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incognit0slut · 5 months

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All I Need

Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love? Based on:

Warnings: 18+ mature content but nothing too explicit, this is just sweet love making

words: 2077

A/n: I’m supposed to finish my last kinktober and update my series, but both are very heavy and I needed something sweet to defrost my writer's block. I hope you don’t mind me squeezing something else until I finish my other WIPs🥲

“…every time I look into your eyes I see it, you’re all I need…”

SPENCER KNEW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. There wasn't a single thing he wasn't familiar with—from every mole, every scar, to every stretch mark. Any imperfection you considered of yourself he found to be perfect.

He was well aware of the small scar on your hip bone. Or the mole resting at the back of your thigh. Or the way you disliked caffeine, because every time you drank it, it increased your heart rate drastically. Which was why you always judged him every time he had a cup of coffee in his hand, especially with the amount of sugar he never seemed to stop adding.

"That is definitely not healthy," you would always say, to which he simply responded with a small peck on your lips. It was his way to shut you up without saying anything.

He also knew how soft you actually were underneath that hard exterior you always carried. You were an enigma the first time you joined the team, but Spencer always had a soft spot for mystery, and solving you became his mission even when he wasn't the best at maintaining conversations. He remembered making a fool of himself when he talked to you, stuttering about one of the random facts engraved in his brain.

But you still listened to him, and for once in his life, he finally found someone who didn't mind hearing him talk. It was nice to have somebody who found his knowledge interesting, and with that thought in mind, it didn't take long for him to take an interest in you.

Not that he wasn't interested at first, because honestly, you were a splendid sight when you first walked through the door. It was more so an interest that was considered surpassing a simple friendship. An interest that had him push his confidence into asking you out.

Spencer never pegged himself as someone who would be content having a significant other in his daily routine—his past relationships never seemed to work out, after all—but the more time he spent with you, the more he realized he was actually in pure bliss. It seemed as if you had cast a spell, drawing him deeper into your presence, a magnetic force of affection that went beyond the superficial. Every smile, every touch, seemed to emanate a radiant heat, and he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnitude of your warmth.

Especially at this moment, staring into your eyes as they slowly fluttered open from a long night of slumber, he found himself leaning forward. You were so warm, so inviting. The soft light coming from the curtains cast a shadow over your curves and he couldn't help himself from trailing down your body.

You were fully awake now as he pressed his lips on every part of your skin. The slight movement of your arms wrapping around his neck had him grunting, and somehow he was suddenly positioned between your legs, pressing his hot length onto your wet folds, wanting nothing else but to push himself deep into your warmth.

As he watched you beneath him, eyes half closed, mouth open in anticipation, he couldn't help but mutter his next words because you looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heavenly gorgeous covered in a sheen of sweat, so damn pretty with eyes full of desire. You looked like a siren, an angel, and a lustful woman all rolled into one.

Everything about you was so divine, and the desire to consume every part of your existence became an insatiable hunger. It was a need, a yearning that made the idea of spending a lifetime without you seem unfathomable as if oxygen slowly drained from his world, leaving him breathless.

The words bubbled up from the depths of his heart, and before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Marry me."

Your eyes snapped open as he finally sank his hips into you, and before you could even respond, before you could even register his words, his rough thrust stole the breath from your lungs. Rational thoughts shattered as he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was slightly painful yet completely pleasurable.

He slowly pulled out, then pushed back in, your back arching, legs wrapping around his waist. "Spence," you moaned as he started a steady pace, trying to gain your focus but failing miserably. You couldn't think of anything else except the sensation between your legs. "Oh, God."

Languid and smooth, his hips continued to roll into you. "This feels good, doesn't it?"

The feel of his cock sinking in and out of you had your head falling back against the mattress. Your fingernails tightened upon his back, and he drove you gently into the bed with low grunts. His voice was rough, broken by focused breaths. "We could do this every morning."

A whine broke out of you.

"I'd wake up first," he told you. "I'd make you breakfast in bed..." He slipped out again before thrusting into you slowly, dragging his cock along your inner walls that had you mewling. "...right after I wake you with my tongue between your thighs."

You let out another moan. He drank in the sound with a smile before lowering his mouth to the base of your neck. Heated kisses trailed along your skin as his fingers trailed down the outline of your body before they stopped at the warmth between your legs.

Your mouth was wide open against his shoulder, eyes watering with the force of pleasure from having his cock smacking through your wetness, his body forcefully shoving your knees apart. You felt his fingers trailing your clit in slow circles and you arched your back, each tender brush tightened that coil of heat simmering in the pit of your stomach. The simulation drove you further into a haze of pleasure that a soft yes finally escaped your lips without you realizing it.

The barely whispered word didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Yes to this," he wondered as prompted his weight on his other hand. "Or to my proposal?"

You glanced up at him, your face a mixture of pleasure and alarm as you gave him a look. "You're crazy."

He watched you closely, mesmerized by the way your hips were bucking every time his cock hit that soft spot inside you while his fingers continued their tease. "Maybe." He leaned down and softly bit your shoulder. "But I am crazy in love with you."

When you didn't respond, he slowly pulled away and fixed his gaze on you. Your reaction, or lack thereof, spoke volumes, and as his eyes met yours, he found himself captivated by the reflective pools of emotion within. There was a hint of fear and concern, shadows that danced with the flicker of uncertainty. Yet, beneath those layers, he could see the distinct longing in your eyes. It was hard not to distinguish it as it matched the same look in his. Your stare was warm and domineering.

They were so full of love.

And that moment, Spencer realized, that was what you were to him—love. You were the greatest passion he had ever known.

You felt completely in the moment with him as you let your gaze scan over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room, but you could still see the soft lightness of them. Then, you leaned up, noses brushing gently against each other before you pressed your lips onto his. His body moved again in response, hips bucking into you and you felt him pulsing inside your core as his mouth worked harmoniously along yours.

"Marry." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.

You whimpered. Everything was too much. The intensity of the pleasure was almost intoxicating, a heady concoction that wrapped around you, rendering you momentarily breathless.

"Having you for the rest of my life is a privilege." He continued, grunting as you clenched around him. He lost himself with one final, jagged plea. "Marry me and make me the happiest man alive."

His words, touch, and the stroke of him inside you—it all blurred together. It pushed you so wildly that the coil in your stomach twisted sharply through along your body. He lunged down to kiss you again, tongue pushing deep as he stole your moan before it could break into the air. He tugged you into him at the same time that you submitted to his pull.

There were times when you would appreciate this. The contact, the intimacy, the warmth of your boyfriend connected with you. Right now though, you needed release. So you buried your hand in his curls, all messy and askew.

"Spencer," you breathed out against his lips. Each of his thrusts fed the growing flame in your body as your body turned pliant for him. “Oh god, yes,” you cried, head thrashing side to side as your eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by pleasure.

He peppered kisses over your neck, your jaw, your temple, desperate to be even closer to you, to melt into you. "Yes to what?"

Your senses were heightened, every touch and every breath seemed magnified in the intensity of the moment. Your body shuddered with every vicious thrust.

"Yes, yes, yes." A desperate, needy little whine slipped past your lips and you opened your eyes wide to give him a pleading look. "Spencer, please, please."

You were panting, your breath hot and your skin even hotter, and you could barely hear him when he spoke, "Yes to what, Angel?"

Angel. The syllables carried a warmth that resonated deep within your heart. Sometimes you were his Angel. Sometimes you were his Sweetheart. While you cherished the way he expressed his affection, a yearning for more had taken root.

Marry me.

You could be more than his angel. You could be his wife. But it wasn't just about the affectionate words anymore; it was about a promise, a shared future, and you realized as he hovered above you, all sweaty and desperate, that you wanted to feel this bliss every day. How could you not when he fits so perfectly inside you that you could swear he was made for you?

And then you felt it, his hand trailing down your arm before it stopped right along your fingers, intertwining them with his. Your hand clutched onto his as his thrust sped up a fraction—but it was still deep and lazy, enough to make you squirm. His cock was achingly hard inside you and when you clenched down on him, you adored the twitch and resounding moan it drew out of him.

You wanted this for your life. You wanted him every day. You wanted to wake up each morning in his arms, him whispering sweet nothings as he buried himself inside you.

You wanted him so much you would be a fool not to accept his proposal.

"Yes," you breathed out. "I'll marry you."

He grunted against your lips. "Say that again."

His thrusts were now fast and ruthless, his groans filling the room while the sound of skin slapping together echoed with it. Every time you could feel him deep inside you, it brought you closer to that familiar coil in your stomach. It was a heady sensation, an intoxicating blend of desire that quickened your pulse and set your senses ablaze.

"I—shit," you cried out, legs shaking at the pleasure traveling along your body you were starting to wail desperately for your release. "Fuck, baby, I'll marry you."

A sound of satisfaction erupted from him as he kissed you with every ounce of power he had. He kissed you as he had never kissed anyone before. He kissed you deeply, possessively even, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from different angles, but it felt perfect.

You felt perfect. Your lips. Your curves. Your scent. It was as if you were made especially for him. He was fully consumed with you, consumed by you, and yet he couldn't get enough. Though you were beneath him, he was at your mercy, and the fact that you could still have such control over him made his stomach twist even more.

He was so in love with you. He was so sure of it, so sure of this abundance of passion, for Spencer Reid could sometimes be dense when it came to sudden bursts of emotions, but he was not stupid. He wasn't oblivious, nor was he lacking in perception. It wasn't about intelligence or lack thereof, it was simply about the purity of his emotion.

And he was deeply, unequivocally in love.

Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim

PLEASE READ: The crossed out ones are blogs I can’t tag. And if any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

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candy69gurl · 23 days

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can you do hybrid! Wolf toji claiming you during his rut?

THE HOWL OF DESIRE

Hybrid! Wolf toji x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, dark, slight non/con (Toji does not intend to harm you), size kink (both are adults), cave sex, multiple orgasms, nipple biting & play, fingering (Toji has black big nails), raw sex (cumming inside many times), breeding, pussy eating

wc - 2.6k

ART NOT MINE !

As you traverse through the dense woods, you find yourself getting increasingly disoriented, unsure of which way leads back to civilization. The sun's rays barely penetrating the thick canopy above, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. You begin to worry, knowing that spending the night here could lead to dangerous consequences.

Suddenly, your senses pick up on the sound of rustling leaves nearby. You freeze, trying to discern whether it is an animal or something more sinister.

A figure emerges from behind a tree, and you gasp involuntarily. It is a creature of height 6'1ft, he appears as a magnificent wolf-human hybrid. He is slender but muscular and athletic, and his wolfish aura makes him look intimidating. As he closes on your position you notice his ears flattened on his head and his tail is pointed upright, his body has chiseled muscles and trademark scars, his green sword-like eyes looking through your soul. His mouth bore fang-like teeth that you swear are more vicious than natural canine teeth of humans.

His eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of hunger and desire burning within their depths.

"Hello, human," he growls softly, his voice tinged with an animalistic quality. "Lost, are we? Well, I don't normally go for humans, but you seem intriguing enough."

As you stand frozen in fear and confusion, Toji takes a step closer, his form shifting slightly, the wolf aspects becoming more pronounced. His eyes gleam with lust, and you can faintly smell his pheromones in the air – a testament to his overwhelming need to mate. "Ah finally," he says, taking another step toward you. "It's just my rut, and I need a mate to breed with. Normally, I wouldn't ask a human, but I cannot wait anymore."

His voice is calm, almost soothing despite the terrifying situation. Your heart races as you contemplate your options, but you realize that running might only agitate him further. Nonetheless your legs unconsciously start to move. There is only one way to get out of this- by running.

"So," he continues, his back facing you but when he turns to you, he sees you running, " What's a prey if they don't try running".

With a grin spreading across his face, Toji starts running after you, muscles rippling as he leaps after you. His movements are fluid and quick, darting through the trees with ease. You feel your adrenaline surge, pushing your speed to its limit as you navigate the unfamiliar terrain. However, he seems to know these woods intimately, and your panic increases as you realize you're unable to shake him off.

"Caught you little bunny" he exclaims, grabbing your neck. Despite his triumphant words, there's a hint of concern in his eyes. He pauses, contemplating his next move. "Running isn't going to solve anything, and believe me, you don't want to get hurt.. Or do you?"

"P-please let me go.. I have to get back home."

Toji weighs your plea, his gaze lingering on you thoughtfully. His need for release is urgent, but he doesn't wish to harm you unnecessarily. "I can let you go, but I'm afraid you won't find your way back alone." His voice holds a note of genuine concern, his eyes softening momentarily.

Then, his expression shifts, the wolfish hunger returning. "But," he adds, "If you agree to stay and help alleviate my… condition, I promise to guide you safely back to where you belong. You won't regret it, trust me." He leans close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "I'll make sure you enjoy it too."

You stand there, contemplating your options. The thought of being alone in these woods, possibly lost for another night, is daunting. On the other hand, submitting to Toji's demands is equally terrifying, but there's a strange allure to it as well. His promise of safety and pleasure seems almost too good to be true.

As you weigh the pros and cons, Toji watches you intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He can sense your hesitation, and it fuels his desire even more. "I understand if you're scared," he says softly, reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "But I promise, I won't hurt you. I just need someone to share this with, and you seem like the perfect one."

His touch is warm and comforting, despite the situation. You can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, as if he truly means what he says. "So, what do you say?" he asks, his voice low and seductive. "Will you help me, and let me help you in return?"

"O-only if you promise to be gentle..", you reply, your voice shaking from his intimidating aura.

Toji's eyes crinkle at the corners, a rare smile gracing his features. "Gentle it is," he assures you, his grip on your cheek gentle but firm. "I can't promise but I will try since you are my first human mate.. Come, let's find a suitable spot. We don't want to draw attention, do we?" His voice is smooth, radiating confidence and control. You hesitate, but there's a sense of safety in his presence that you can't deny.

With a deep breath, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you deeper into the woods. The fear is still there, but it's tempered by a growing curiosity. You're stepping into unknown territory, but for some reason, you don't feel threatened. Instead, there's a strange excitement coursing through you, making your heart beat faster.

As you follow Toji deeper into the woods, you begin to notice subtle changes in the landscape. Brambles part before you, revealing a hidden trail leading to a small clearing. In the center of the clearing lies a cave, half-hidden by the surrounding foliage. This is where Toji leads you, guiding you inside with a gentle push.

The cave is surprisingly cozy, lit by the dim light seeping through the entrance. There's a palpable sense of warmth and security, and you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Toji observes your reaction, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"This is my den," he explains, gesturing around. "Now, shall we proceed?" He tilts his head, his eyes holding a mix of anticipation and expectation. You can tell that his rut is still strong, but he's patiently waiting for your lead.

Your nod sends a wave of excitement through Toji, his eyes glinting with eagerness.. He quickly steps closer, nearly ripping your pants and panties off. He hovers over you, his eyes locked on yours as he positions himself between your thighs.

Surprised by his sudden movement, you struggle in his grip, "W-wait you need to loosen me up"

Toji pauses, confusion clouding his features for a brief moment. "Loosen you up?" he repeats, his voice heavy with confusion. Then, understanding dawns on his face, and he chuckles softly. "Tsk, I can wait no more but fine since you beg me so obediently", moving between your legs. He gently parts you with his fingers, feeling your dampness.

"You're already prepared," he murmurs, a note of approval in his voice.

"Ah~", your back arches at his finger movements, your back hitting the ground of the cave.

At your response, Toji's eyes darken with lust. He thrusts his fingers into you roughly. You arch your back,

"Are ya loose yet?" His eyes remain locked on yours, his expression a mix of impatience and excitement.

"n-no not yet.. a-ah", your voice cracks up in pleasure.

Toji's eyes narrow, his brows furrowing in concentration. He inserts a third finger, thrusting harder this time, stretching you wider. You cry out, a mixture of pleasure and pain washing over you as you near your edge.

"Humans are so responsive..." he mutters, his voice thick with desire as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity between you and him building, is only heightened by the dim light of the cave.

Finally, after several more thrusts, you reach your orgasm and he withdraws his fingers, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips. "Ready?" He asks, his gaze locked on your face, waiting for your answer.

"mghh.. n-not now.. I need sometime.. I am sensitive right now", you protest.

Toji's eyes squint in annoyance "Shut up, I have been patient enough. I can't wait any longer."

With that, he positions himself between your legs again .With a sudden powerful surge, Toji thrusts into you, his giant cock stretching your poor hole wide. You gasp, your nails digging into the cave floor as you struggle to adjust to the intense sensation.

"Please.. A-ah .. be gentle"

"Shush..I am trying .. You humans are so fragile.. But", he grunts in pleasure, "ya feel so good. I never thought humans feel this good"

Though he is trying to be gentle, but your insides feel so good that he can't help but move relentlessly, his hips pumping in a primal rhythm. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain through you, your body responding to his dominance.

Despite your initial protest, you can't help but moan loudly, writhing beneath him. His roughness sets you ablaze, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts eagerly. His scent, his strength - everything about this experience overwhelms you. Your body cries out for release, and you know you won't last long.

"That's it, take it!" Toji growls, his eyes locked on yours. His primal nature is on full display, and it's intoxicating.

Your toes curl up as Toji's thrusts intensify, his eyes widening at your reaction. "Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his voice thick with lust. "You feel incredible." His pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with brutal efficiency. You cry out, the cave echoing with your sounds of pleasure and pain.

His rut is nearing its peak, his body trembling with suppressed energy. With one last powerful lunge, he buries himself deep within you, filling you with his seed. "Take it all," he rasps, his breath hot against your neck.

In that moment, you surrender to the sensations, your own climax washing over you. Together, you collapse onto the cave floor, feeling spent but incredibly fulfilled. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, holding him close.

As he recovers, Toji nuzzles your neck, his breathing ragged. "I hope I was gentle enough," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction.

"No .. you are so mean..", you reply panting.

Toji laughs, his chest rumbling against your throat. "Mean? Maybe, but effective, wouldn't you agree?" He teases, his grip on you tightening. "Besides, don't lie, you enjoyed it too."

He's right, you did enjoy it - despite the roughness. The intensity of the encounter left you shaken yet exhilarated. He turns you on your stomach "don't think it's over yet.. It's just a starting"

"w-what?", your pupil dilates at the though.

Toji pushes you on your stomach and he enters from behind. You moan, feeling him stretch you once again. With a smirk, he begins to thrust relentlessly, his body slamming against yours. His large hands grip your sides, holding you steady as he takes you from behind.

"We are going to do it whole night" he growls, each word punctuated by his thrusts.

You cry out, your body responding eagerly to his advances. You can't deny the pleasure surging through you. His dominance excites you, the raw intensity of his actions sending you spiraling towards another climax.

"God, you're so good," he praises, his voice thick with lust. "I could spend hours with you, sweet human."

"P-please can't no more", you plead.

Toji stills, pulling his cock out, your body shaking from oversensitiveness. "Already?" then he thrusts into you again. "I know you can handle this."

You cry out, feeling him entering you again.

Time skips, and you and he are still at it, you don't know what time it is, you don't know how many orgasms coursed through you.. The only thing you know is the pleasure you are getting from this.

Toji's eyes shine with lust, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he bounces you on his lap. Your hair falls in disarray around your face, your skin flushed from exertion. Each thrust elicits a soft moan from you, your body responding to his every command.

"Feel good?" he asks, his voice low and sultry. His eyes hold a mixture of satisfaction and hunger, his gaze never leaving your face. You nod, breathless, your nails scratching lightly at his shoulders.

"Good," he growls, increasing his pace. "I knew you'd love this." His hips buck, driving into you harder, faster. You cry out, your body reacting to his every touch.

"p-please play with my nipples too.. mhmm", your face flush with shame as you beg him to pleasure you. Unknowingly removing your hands remove your top and push up your bra, revealing your breasts with stiffening nipples.

Toji's eyes light up at your request, his hands immediately moving to your breasts. He pinches your nipples gently, then harder, eliciting a mix of pleasure and pain from you. You cry out, your body arching in response.

"You like that?" he asks, his voice thick with lust. "Is this what you wanted?"

You nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He leans to catch one of your bouncing tits in his mouth, licking and sucking. His fangs brush your nipples, nibbling on them gently

"f-fuck .. dont bite them.. ahhh."

Toji pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. He looks at you, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "My apologies," he says, feigning innocence. "It seemed to please you though."

He resumes his thrusts, his movements fierce and unrestrained. His hands pinch and twist your nipples, his tongue lashing over them in turn. Each touch sends waves of pleasure-pain coursing through you, your body responding eagerly.

"I'm close," you whisper, your voice hoarse.

"Not yet," he growls, his eyes darkening. "I'm not done with you."

His words send a fresh wave of arousal coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge. You cry out, your body writhing beneath him as he plays with your nipples, fucking you relentlessly.

"R-really can't anymore.. please let me .. let me cum", you beg him, tears falling from your cheeks.

Toji's eyes meet your teary eyes, his breath ragged.

"Don't cry little human", he licks your cheek wiping off your tears. "Then cum," he growls, his voice rough with pleasure. "Let go."

With a final, hard thrust, he drives into you, the motion perfectly synchronized with your climax. You cry out, your body shaking as you crest over the edge. He follows suit, his cock pulsing within you as he finds his own release. He growls which sounds more like a howl, as he fills your womb with his thick seed.

Exhausted, you slump against him, your breathing ragged. He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

Soon you pass out. Toji catches you easily, his grip firm yet tender. "Awww. I wanted more though," he whispers, his voice softening, "but fine.. I have had enough fun.. I will help ya return tomorrow"

He gazes at your sleeping form, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. Despite his rough exterior, he cares for you. He wraps his big arms around you covering your fragile body, ensuring you stay warm throughout the night.

You awaken slowly, feeling warm, wet warmth between your legs. Your eyes flutter open, landing on Toji's face, his eyes gleaming with desire as he licks your cunt. The sight is both erotic and overwhelming.

"Morning," he greets, his voice thick with lust. "How are you feeling?"

You swallow hard, your heart racing. "W-what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" he responds, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Cleaning you up after last night's fun."

You blush, your body reacting to his touch whether you want it to or not. Your eyes squeeze shut as he licks and kisses your most intimate places.

"Mmm, you taste delicious," he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. "Like sweet honey."

"H-hey you said.. you will help me return back home.."

Toji raises his head, his eyes locked on yours. "Go home?" he repeats, surprise clear in his voice. "Oh yes.. But I want to fuck you before I leave you alone for good"

Your skin is already sensitive from his licks and touches, your body ready for more. You bite your lower lip before nodding.

He grins, his eyes filled with lust. "What we waiting for then?" He quickly moves, positioning himself between your legs.

He chuckles as your walls devour his huge girth. "I love how good your taking me.. Fuck.. I'll always find you during my rut, my little bunny."

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after-witch · 2 months

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Check Out Time is Eleven [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Title: Check Out Time is 11 [Yandere Chrollo x Reader]

Synopsis: You're invited to a hotel for a warm meal and a place to sleep by a mysterious stranger. Soulmate AU.

Word count: 7100ish

notes: yandere, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, a really useless and non-philosophical reference to My Dinner with Andre

The red thread on his finger loses slack for the very first time in his life, and for the smallest of moments, Chrollo Lucilfer forgets himself. His steps falter, expensive, stolen shoes nearly scuffing on the sidewalk, and a startled breath quivers through his chest. His mouth gapes, ever so slightly.

In surprise.

In trepidation.

In realization.

The red thread was, had always been, attached to you. His soulmate. Whoever you were. The gentle tugging of the thread meant that after years of fruitless searching, you were finally somewhere nearby, close enough to reach. Probably, given the tautness of the thread, even within walking distance.

How lucky for him.

How unfortunate for you.

You were finally discovered. You were finally within his grasp, fingers itching, warm satisfaction blooming through his skin. How often had he ruminated over the fact that you had yet to belong to him? How often had he wondered what you would look like, how you would feel under his touch? And what you might do to him when he had you in person? Would he find himself changed, however slightly, as the others in the Troupe had been? Or would he mold you with his own presence, looming over you like a shadow?

The mere thought of you is enough to get his heart racing, bring a bead of sweat to his neck. It was so unlike him, and wasn’t that a thrill?

And then, just like that, the moment is over. He recollects himself and his mouth closes and his mind whirs back into focused gear.

He needed to find you, first thing. The rest of the logistics could come later.

His eyes track the movements of the thread, and without missing a beat, he turns on his heels to follow the direction of the movement. It was possible--no, highly probable--that you were close enough to reach on foot. Within the city, certainly, and he didn’t mind the exercise.

As he continues to walk, the cold gleam of the business district turning into rows of glitzy restaurants and downtown attractions, he’s glad that you weren’t too close. It gives him more time to think about what he wants to do with you.

The Troupe members that had already found their soulmates--and Chrollo feels a surge of pride in his chest, counting himself among them now, fulfilled in that goal--had taken on different approaches.

Some merely kidnapped their soulmates and kept them in secure locations. Simple, effective in terms of security, but that would ensure it would take him a long time to win you over. And he knows that he will do just that, eventually, no matter how he decides to keep you. Others took their time, attempting to strike up something of an ordinary relationship before revealing their knowledge of the red thread, and persuading their soul mates to come with them for safety (and romance)’s sake. Surely the more appealing of the two options, but it did come with the downside of expended time and energy.

What he would do with you depended on so many factors. Did you live in some stationary location, or were you prone to travel? What did you do for a living? Were you already in a relationship, some inferior partnership with someone who could never appreciate you the way that he could, as your only soulmate?

All of these questions circle heavily in his mind as he walks, following the thread that was becoming tighter and tighter between the pair of you. The ritzy downtown buildings were now gone, replaced by rows of old buildings that had seen better days. In place of fine dining were small cafes and diners that practically exuded grease, laundromats with blinking signs, and the occasional busted out window. The scores of people walking, gabbing, waving around fancy handbags were replaced by only the occasional person walking with clear destinations in mind, eyes in front.

As the thread becomes even tighter, it leads him down an alley that most people would have surely avoided. But he doesn’t worry about the glances of the people leaning up against heavy exit doors, or the people crouching on the ground with needles against their arms. He thinks about you. Will he find you here, perhaps, curled up in the arms of a drug dealer pumping you full of toxic chemicals that flushed you with endorphins and heat? Or you might be on the other side of the needle, pocketing cash and going on your merry way?

But, no. Perhaps not. Instead of leading him further into the den of seedy dealings, the thread brings him away, feet crunching on broken bottles, towards some type of fenced-in parking lot. Or it had been a parking lot, once

From a short distance through the metal fence, he can see burning barrels, tents, carts. The smells of cooking grills waft over, greasy foods, easy to cook outdoors. It wasn’t a new sight, in this city or otherwise. Chrollo had seen worse. Had lived worse.

And then, there--at the end of the red thread that weaved in between one of the fence’s metal honeycombs: you.

He sees you for the first time and knows, with a burning intensity that threatens to knock him over, that he needs you. He needs you now. He needs you always. You have something that he lacks and perhaps possessing you will give it to him.

Is this what the others felt, when they first saw their soulmates? Or is it something unique to you and him? Some unfathomable bond that has shaken him to his core? Not for long, of course, never for long. He regains his senses within moments and catalogs the feeling away for later analysis.

It’s you that he focuses on, now. And the fact he will have you, as soon as he decides on the where, when, and how. He wouldn’t be the leader of the Phantom Troupe if he wasn’t skilled at taking what he wanted.

Today what he wants is not a gallery of paintings or a rare gruesome artifact, but a person.

You.

What to make of you?

You’re standing in front of one of the burning barrels, rubbing your hands together. They look red and chapped, even from his vintage point. Behind you is a shopping cart filled with odds and ends. On the side nearest the fire, you had clearly laid out clothes over the edge of the cart--wet ones, from rain or maybe you’d had the opportunity to wash them. Your current ensemble is a simple hodgepodge. Clearly, you wore whatever was cleanest, whatever was warmest, whatever you could find.

He remembers such a living.

You appear to be on the outskirts, avoiding the groups scattered around the encampment. No one approaches you and you don’t approach them. A loner… by choice, or not? You wouldn’t be alone for long, if it wasn’t by choice, and in time you might be grateful for it. If it was by choice, well, there were ways to tame feral cats.

It doesn’t take much analysis to decide what to do with you, to decide how best to approach things. He’s glad that he wore something casual today. Just some simple slacks and a nice sweater. If he was overdressed, it might be more difficult. Not that he couldn’t manage it, but he enjoys advantages when he can get them.

With no hesitation, he walks through one of the ragged gaps in the metal fence and begins to approach you.

Your head jerks towards him the moment that his steps become even remotely close. He doesn’t mind. It’s only natural, especially for someone who has been living the way you surely have. There’s a tugging somewhere inside him--memory of himself and connection with you.

He smiles, not broadly, but in a way meant to disarm.

“Hello,” he says, stopping a few feet away from you.

You stiffen.

“I’m Chrollo,” he continues. His voice is undisturbed and calm. As if he was meeting you on a sunny afternoon in the park while you were both buying ice cream from the same cart. That might have been a more charming meeting, he muses, but this one can work to his advantage just as easily. “Won’t you tell me your name?”

You snatch your hands back from the barrel and step, refusing to turn your back to him, behind your cart.

“None of your business,” you say.

And oh, he thinks, it would be heaven if he could somehow bottle the first time he hears your voice and listen to it on demand. But he supposes, he has the rest of his life--and yours--to hear you speak.

“That’s all right.” He gestures towards you, the cart, your life. “I see you are in need.” You frown at him, but he continues. “How would you like to go somewhere warm?”

Your lip pulls back in a sneer and you move yourself on the other side of the cart.

“I don’t do that. Fuck off.”

Ah. You thought he wanted you to--well. It wouldn’t be the first time people took advantage of others in less fortunate situations. There had been enough of that in Meteor City.

“No, nothing like that,” he says, voice going soft. “I should have clarified. I’m a… missionary of sorts. I look for people in need and offer what help I can give. I’d like to buy you a hotel room for the week.” He notices your wary expression. “Or even the day, if that would be more comfortable for you. Somewhere you can get some safe sleep, a shower, something to eat. I wouldn’t even be there.”

He recognizes the look on your face all too well. Wariness. Suspicion. The face of someone who knows that people are tricky and greedy and cruel. That people will take things that they haven’t earned. Oh, yes-- he knows all of that so well, from both sides.

And he also knows how to get your guard to drop enough for him to accomplish his goal. Sure, mistrust is essential in an environment like this. But mistrust can always be overpowered when there’s something essential within reach. Like comfort. Or food. A warm place to stay, even if it’s just for a few hours. A private bathroom, a toilet, a tub.

“I don’t know,” you say, finally, having given him the appropriate stare down.

He nods his head.

“I understand. I would feel wary myself, in your position. It’s perfectly reasonable.” It is more than reasonable, he thinks, but you don’t need to know that. You just need to believe that coming with him will be worth your while, worth ignoring what he’s sure is a growing pit in your stomach.

“What I would like to do is accompany you to a hotel where I often book rooms for those in need. It’s a private room, of course. And I will pay for your meals.” He sees the gears turning in your mind at the promise of a bed. The promise of food. “I have my own room in the hotel, but it’s on a different floor, and I won’t have to see you at all,” he adds, and this is how he will make you step over that cautionary line. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everything is pre-paid on my card, of course, and you’re free to order whatever you’d like. What do you say?”

He lets his words hang in the air, wafting like smoke from the nearby barrels.

You wet your lips. You glance around at the people around you. A few of them have taken notice of Chrollo, perhaps as a mark, perhaps more; but he pays them no mind. He could kill them in a fraction of a second and whisk you out of here just as easily, if he needs to… But he hopes it will not come to that.

“All right,” you say suddenly, softly. “If… you’re just going to give me a room and feed me, then all right.”

Chrollo smiles. It is, he thinks, perhaps close to a genuine one.

“Wonderful. Follow me, if you please.”

The hotel is expensive, but thankfully not terribly ostentatious. Chrollo would hate to put you off by throwing you into some gilded lion’s den. But the hotel is more reserved, classy. Comfort and luxury without any of the ridiculous trappings that often come with them.

Chrollo does bring you with him to the front desk, if only to reduce the chances that the security will kick you out for looking out of place. And you do look out of place, but perhaps that’s for the better. It will make you appreciate what he’s going to do for you more, won’t it?

You’re quiet all the while, but that’s to be expected. You only hold tight to your backpack, where everything you hold dear has been crammed, and let him do the talking. A reservation is easily made under the guise that only you are to know the room number--you certainly don’t need to know that he’ll swing back and reserve the connected room next door--and the key is given without fanfare from the polite desk clerk who gives you curious glances but nothing more.

Chrollo walks you to the elevator, ever the gentleman, and hands you the key. You stare at it. The uncertain expression on your face is unbelievably precious, he thinks. He hopes he can see more of it before it inevitably morphs into shock and anger and fear.

“Would you like some new clothing?” Chrollo asks, after he pushes the button on the elevator for you. “I can have some sent up from the hotel’s boutique. I’ll tell the front desk, so they can give the concierge the room number. Ah, and I’ll need to know your size, if you’re willing to give it.”

“You want to buy me clothes?”

You almost splutter out the words, and he has to restrain himself from kissing you right then and there. You are terribly cute, and there’s a slight disturbing tinge to how much he finds everything about you enticing so quickly. The way you furrow your eyebrows at his question. The slight look of embarrassment, the twitch of your lips.

He needs you so much, and he’s only known you for a few moments.

You tell him your size, then glance at him before staring at the glossy metallic doors. “Um, I need something warm. No useless stuff.” Your head gestures back towards the hotel lobby, where a few women are walking on the arm of male companions, dressed in sleeveless dresses and likely heading for the restaurant.

“Of course.” Chrollo does not tell you that he can envision you wearing all sorts of useless things in the future his mind is creating, brick by brick. You would look heavenly in something strapless, something slinky. Something that hangs off your shoulders. He would drape a fine wrap over them, were you behaving enough to go out with him--no one else but him will be privy to such delicacies.

For now, though, he resolves to send you the clothes he knows you want. Things will be a little more seamless if your guard isn’t entirely raised.

The elevator doors open.

Chrollo steps aside, and gestures for you to enter.

“This is where I take my leave. I will let the restaurant host know your name, and you can order whatever you’d like. It’s on my card. Please, don’t feel the need to hold back.”

You take a step inside the elevator and ah, there it is. Just the slightest hesitation. The slightest jerk of your head as you look back at him. Do you feel bad, leaving him in a lurch when he’s giving you charity? Do you feel beholden to him in some way?

“I guess it’s okay if we share a meal. You’re paying for it, anyway. It’d be awkward otherwise.” You stare down at the elevator carpet as you say the words, and Chrollo realizes that he’s perhaps misjudged the gesture. Your sense of shame, maybe, outweighs your desire to be rid of him and his potential alternative motives for assisting you.

That might come in handy.

He nods, as you turn around and make brief eye contact with him.

“Well, then. How about we meet here in 5 hours for dinner? I can send something dressy to your room, if you’d like.”

You shrug your shoulders as the doors close, which is as good as assent in his view. The string on his finger rises with the elevator, but now there is no fear that he’ll lose you. The string, something which had been maddening in its slackness for so long, is now something of a treasure itself. A little leash, keeping you to him, wherever you go.

Which, for now, is your hotel room--meaning he needs to get moving. He won’t pick anything too flashy out from the boutique; something modest, something simple. There are delicate steps to take to avoid making you feel ashamed without offending your sense of dignity all in one go.

Thankfully--for you and himself--he’s attuned to such needs.

5 hours. That would give you enough time to take a shower or bath, to change into the fresh clothing he’ll send up, to take a nap. Perhaps you’ll stare out the hotel window at the view or curl up in the bed, rolling on the fresh sheets.

Five hours would give you time to freshen up and relax, yes. And it would give him enough time to get hold of Shalnark and procure anything he needs to make your removal from the hotel as smooth as possible.

The shower is running again. He doesn’t blame you. He remembers days where a hot shower was a luxury beyond imagining.

He keeps his side pressed against the door connecting your rooms--not that you know he is on the other side with a key to yours, of course--and holds back a contended sigh as he watches the red string on his finger twirl and shift with your every movement.

What are you thinking about? He wonders. Are you thinking about how long it’s been since you had a hot shower? Are you thinking about slipping the shampoo bottles into your backpack?

Perhaps more inviting… are you thinking about him?

He knows what’s on his mind, and has been for the last few hours now. You.

What were you like, deep down, underneath your layers and justifiably guarded stance? Maybe you liked to read, maybe you once had a dream of being a dancer before life went to hell, maybe you were shy, maybe you liked to get drunk and sing your favorite songs at full volume.

What would you be like, once you were fully his?

What do you look like, underneath all of your clothing? What has nature and nurture shown fit to bestow upon you, your skin, all those secret places you keep hidden?

The thread bobbles again. Are you stepping out of the shower soon, or still scrubbing yourself? You’re so vulnerable, naked and unawares, just a few feet away from him. The water running is a delicious sound to his ears, because he knows that you’re underneath it.

He imagines what you might look like naked. He imagines what sounds you might make, underneath him, gasping and--

Oh, but he’s getting ahead of himself. He smiles and shakes his head at the rush. He should slow down, yes. Slow down and savor it all.

He clenches both of his hands. In one is the duplicate key, in the other is a syringe. Both go into opposite pockets, awaiting their respective time to shine.

The dress that arrives at your door with a prim knock from a porter is not quite what you expected--which is a relief. You expected the stranger to send up something ridiculous. Something slinky and glittering, maybe with only a half shoulder.

But instead it’s a simple dress with a flared skirt, all made from dark blue fabric. The sleeves are elbow length, the neckline isn’t too low, and there’s a matching black belt to go with it. He’s even sent up a pair of nylons, which are something you haven’t worn since you were a little kid, desperately trying to mimic your mother’s fancy outfits.

He also--and maybe this is overkill--sent up a few pairs of shoes in different sizes, along with a transcribed note instructing you to call the front desk if none of them fit, or simply wear your own shoes if you are uncomfortable with it.

This stranger--Chrollo--is awfully accommodating. And kind. And considerate.

Which is exactly why, when the dress is on and your nylon-clad feet are resting in the shoes easiest to run in, you tuck your switchblade into one of the dress pockets for safekeeping.

Maybe he is just kind. Or he’s one of those people that makes themselves feel better by occasionally being charitable; he’s harboring some sort of guilt that can be alleviated, however temporarily, by buying a person a sandwich or two.

But maybe he’s not. You’ve known people who have been hurt or killed or sometimes worse by so-called charitable people. People that lure you in with showers and hotels, meals and clothing. People that slit your throat before or after they have their way with you.

Life was dark and life was shit, and you weren’t born yesterday. If this stranger had any nefarious intentions, you certainly weren’t going to walk into them like a bleating lamb.

And yet, and yet… some part of you wanted to believe he had good intentions. You’re not sure why, exactly. You weren’t the type to look on the bright side or always see the good in people--or at least, you hadn’t been that way since childhood. Yet something about this Chrollo made you hope that he was a good person. That you’d have a nice conversation and he wouldn’t do anything more than give you a nice afternoon and a place to sleep comfortably for a bit.

It was an almost primal feeling, which made it all the more stranger. Your gut feelings usually told you something like: this place is dangerous, this guy’s probably got a gun, that alley’s too notorious to use as a shortcut.

Your gut didn’t give you silly notions, like wanting to trust someone, hoping they would talk to you during dinner, wondering if they’d be pleasant to be around for longer.

At least, not before today.

“And the lady will have the cailles aux raisins.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Quail,” Chrollo says, allowing the waiter to take the leather-bound menu from his hands. As if your issue was with the choice of food--okay, you didn’t know what it meant, but still--and not that he ordered for you. “Stuffed with shallots, grapes, liver, and ah, I believe, some cognac, if I’m not mistaken.”

“That’s correct, sir,” the waiter says, not giving you a second glance--you didn’t even get a menu, which irked you, but considering you had nothing to pay with and perhaps the hotel staff knew it, it was a practical snub.

Your lips twist into a frown, although you suppose you can’t complain. The dish does sound good. Not that you’ve ever had quail. But it can’t be that different from chicken. Or duck. You had duck, once, as a kid. Your mother brought you to a hotel just like this for a Mother’s Day brunch and you sat at a table with an embroidered cloth and wore a pair of your mother’s white gloves, so that you would look extra fancy.

“I apologize,” Chrollo tells you. “I should have asked your preference first.” The strangest part is how sincere he sounds, like he really didn’t want to offend you. Like he actually might be interested in what you want to eat. Part of you can appreciate that, and part of you wants to finger the handle of your knife inside your pocket.

“It’s fine.” You shrug it all off. Because you can, and you choose to--but also because you’re famished and the smells wafting from the other tables is enough to make your stomach growl. “People usually don’t order things like this for me, anyway. If they do give me anything.”

Chrollo tilts his head slightly, looking at you like a particularly interesting painting on a wall. “No?”

You smile thinly. “Nope. I’m lucky if I get someone’s leftover fries from a fast food shop.”

“What a shame.” He places both hands on the table, clasping his fingers together. His gaze bores into yours. You look away, briefly, but find yourself wanting to look back. How odd. “I’m sure,” he begins, talking slowly, measuring out his words, “that must be demoralizing--to be treated as lesser-than.”

You can’t help the snort that comes out your nose, or the quick words that follow. “Yeah? And what would you know about that?” Your eyes rake over his outfit, your mind whirls over how much money he’s spent on you alone, as if it was nothing. A drop in the bucket. Some rich man playing with his money. Or daddy’s money, depending on the circumstance.

Of course, you expect him to get offended. You expect him to call you ungrateful and cancel the order and ship you out of here like yesterday’s trash. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has gotten angry that you didn’t play into their savior fantasies. Your muscles even prep to stand, your face goes stony, ready to block the anger that he’ll throw your way.

Only... none of that happens.

His face looks--it’s hard to describe, really. It’s almost like it glitches for a moment, and you see something you weren’t meant to see. You’re not even sure if he realizes it. And then his expression gets so remote and so quiet. He looks away from you for perhaps the first time, looking instead, at his hands.

“I know a lot about that, actually.”

It’s not offense in his expression but… sympathy? No, that’s not it either. You know “sympathy face” like the back of your hand, for all the good it does you.

It’s empathy. Trace, but there. A shared experience between you. Maybe that’s why you’ve felt inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt all day. Why you went with him in the first place, hunger pangs aside.

“So you’ve been…” You begin, but is there a need to finish. He’s been homeless, or something like it. Downtrodden. On the bottom.

He nods.

“Sorry.” The word comes out blurted but soft. Well, I’m an asshole, you think.

He smiles at you, a soft, thin thing--almost like a gloss that covers up his previous expression. “No, don’t be. You had no way of knowing, dear.”

Dear.

The word hangs between you silently, as if it’s being dangled on some sort of invisible string. He opens his mouth slightly--maybe to apologize--but shuts it when you don’t say anything. Instead, he simply blinks, and watches you.

Perhaps a minute ago you might have bristled at the nickname, might have sought to cut it right down, in fact. But for now, you brush it aside. He’s being nice--he knows what you’re going through. And sure, there’s some sort of guilt relief in his actions, but it’s not coming from the place of a rich man making himself feel better. It’s coming, you think, from a place of not just knowing where you’ve been but having been there himself.

Before either of you can speak, the waiter returns with your appetizer and despite the guilt in your gut, your hunger practically sings at the sight of the plate of bread and butter. It’s fancy bread, already cut, gleaming with what smells like garlic butter spread over the top.

The flavored butter is shaped like a rose and it’s only after you childishly dip your bread right into it and take a loud, chewy bite of the delicious goodness that you realize you’ve committed a faux-pas. There’s a tiny butter knife on the plate, obviously meant to delicately smear the butter onto your bread. And here you are, gnawing on the piece like some sort of medieval peasant during a bad harvest.

A pang of shame tingles over you. It’s a silly kind of shame--inconsequential, really. Who cares how you eat bread at some hotel you’ll never step foot in again in your life? But it lingers terribly. Until Chrollo picks up a piece of brand and dips it right into the butter, too, taking a chewy bite with far less graciousness than you imagined with his sophisticated appearance.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” He asks, not even bothering to cover his mouth.

You smile. You almost-snort. And the shame dissipates like ice crystals on a sunny day, as you and Chrollo both finish off the appetizer. He lets you eat more without saying a word, which you appreciate.

There’s a lot to appreciate about him, really. He’s been kind. He hasn’t been terribly condescending, dinner order notwithstanding. And he seems to know how to approach you with actual empathy and not just the sticky, coddling sympathy that most people do.

And you won’t lie--he is nice to look at. He even smells nice, but with the amount of money he had to spend on the clothing he sent up to your room, he can likely afford to buy expensive cologne.

If he notices you staring, he says nothing. Instead, he half-closes his eyes and appears to be deep in thought. Over… you? Or dinner?

He hums a bit under his breath, and you realize: it’s the music. It’s a delicate song being played by a small group of musicians set up on a stage in the corner. It’s familiar… your brain strives to catch up with your ears.

“You like this song?” You ask, because the silence has stretched too long, and the bread is now gone.

Chrollo opens his eyes and regards you with a sober smile. “Yes.” He pauses, then. “It’s--”

“Elgar's Chanson de matin,” you blurt, before he can. “I know it.”

His eyes widen, just a tad. Enough to show that he’s curious. A funny bit of pride thrums through you. It can be retribution for the quail earlier, you decide.

“You’re familiar with his work?”

You feel your cheeks heat up, even though you don’t get the sense that he asked to be cruel. He seems actually interested. Like he wants to know you. It’s nice, and confusing, and a little startling.

You nod, wishing there was more bread to break up the conversation. “What, you think someone like me can’t be interested in classical music?

“Of course not.” He answers swiftly, resolutely.

He reaches his hand towards yours and grasps it before you can think to pull away. It seems silly to yank your hand out of his, so you don’t. Even if the way he looks down at your interlocked fingers makes goosebumps dance up your arm.

His expression is so strange. He looks… lonely. And desperate. And relieved. But why?

Both of your gazes meet for one electric moment and for that moment, you feel like he sees you. And you see him. Not as clearly. But you see something inside him that is not quite on the surface. Something which does make you pull away, but not with distaste. You withdraw your hand from his slowly, like he’s a wild animal that you don’t want to startle.

The waiter, impeccable timing as ever, arrives with the main courses just as your hand makes its way into your lap.

And just like that, the spell is broken. Ripples of water dash whatever it was between you, and he’s speaking charmingly to the waiter, who appears swiftly again with a glass of champagne for each of you. You weren’t intending to drink, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt. It could calm your nerves.

Neither of you talk much for the rest of dinner. It’s not tense, exactly, but you can tell there’s something in the air. Questions unspoken, maybe, or just an awkwardness between two strangers who seem to both understand and misunderstand each other in equal measure.

The hotel’s restaurant begins to thin out after your main courses are taken away. A dessert menu is brought, and Chrollo orders a simple slice of cake for both of you.

Real vanilla bean frosting is on your lips when you ask your question. Quiet, but with most of the other guests gone, he has no trouble hearing it.

“So you were… homeless, before?”

You’re not sure why you need to know this. To confirm that he’s not some rich boy playing with his father’s money? To see how much he can really understand you? Maybe the champagne went to your head. You don’t normally drink, it wouldn’t be impossible.

His fork stalls as the question comes out. He glances up at you and there’s nothing offended or hurt in his eyes. He seems to weigh his answer before he gives it. It doesn’t really surprise you; he could be just as mistrustful of you as you are of him, couldn’t he?

“Something like that.” He rests his fork on his plate. “I suppose you are trying to decide just how much I can sympathize with your… situation.”

Heat floods your cheeks, and you’re grateful the water brought another glass of champagne that you can sip from to loosen the tightness in your chest.

If he notices your flushed countenance, he doesn’t remark on it. You like him better for it. He continues speaking, looking at you with a measured expression. Like before, his words come slowly and carefully, given to you with something akin to grace.

“Our situations were not exactly similar. I don’t find it terribly useful to compare them. Better in some ways, worse in others. Like anything.”

“Better?” You dab at your mouth with a napkin.

“Ah.” He seems to weigh his next words with even more scrutiny before he decides on them. “I had something you didn’t, which surely benefited me.”

“Which was?”

There’s something wistful in his voice now. It makes you lean forward over the table. With most of the other guests gone, it feels strange to talk so openly about clearly delicate matters. Chrollo mimics your lean, and while he doesn’t take your hands across the table into his, you get the feeling he’d like to, if you let him.

“Companionship,” he says simply. The word settles in the air like a brick that seems to land right on your chest. You blink and feel the beginnings of tears in your eyes. You really did have too much champagne, and this is all getting to be a lot. You start to lean backward when he speaks again.

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“No,” you lie. The shock of the question does make you lean back fully. Then, to be spiteful. “Are you?”

He doesn’t answer. He only looks down at his hands and the empty spot where yours used to be, and then back at you.

Nothing more is said on the matter. He pays for the meal and leaves a nice fat tip for the waiter--who has, you think, been lurking nearby either to witness your drama or to make sure no one swipes his tip from the table--before escorting you back to the elevators.

Shame slams back into you while you’re standing in front of the elevator doors.

“I’m sorry.” Sure, he asked it first, but fuck--you hate being rude. If you were rude. It was hard to tell how Chrollo felt about anything. The champagne making your head fuzzy doesn’t help. Not at all.

He tilts his head a little. “What for?”

Your eyebrows furrow together. “You know, for asking… for being…” You wave your hands around a little. It’s too hard to put into words. You’re tired, you feel out of sorts, and you’re tipsy bordering on drunk. You can give yourself some forgiveness in a lack of coherency in this matter, at least.

Chrollo regards you for a moment before he shakes his head, scoffing a little as he smiles.

“For being yourself? Or at least showing some small part of it to me? I don’t mind.” He holds out his arm and you, unsteady champagne fuzz in your head, take it. “I’ll escort you to your room, if that’s all right. I don’t feel comfortable letting you go there alone.”

You should tell him that you’ll be fine. You should. But the champagne in your brain and the way you feel drawn to him--however slightly--makes “should” fly out the window. So you nod and let him lead you into the elevator, where the ride up makes you dizzy enough that Chrollo has to steady you carefully, and you mumble out another apology.

He only chuckles a little and helps you walk out of the elevator without stumbling over the threshold. Your room is just down the hall and he keeps a steady grip on you the whole way, even though you’ve told yourself that you won’t stumble anymore. It feels weird, to have someone so close to you; to smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin.

It feels weird, yes, but giddy too. He is handsome. And he did buy you dinner. And clothes. And he’s not as shitty as you thought he might be at first. The way he ate the bread in solidarity with you earlier--you can’t forget that, can you? It was… cute, even. If someone like Chrollo could be called cute.

Is it the champagne, the newness of this stranger-but-not-entirely, the rich disarmament that comes with a full stomach and freshly washed face? All of the above? Whatever it is, it’s got you thinking too much about Chrollo as he gently takes the key from your hand and opens your hotel room door.

A gentleman, he only sees you just inside before taking his leave, promising to meet you for breakfast in the morning--if you’d like.

You would like, you tell him, and the door shuts and locks swiftly afterwards. Chrollo’s cologne lingers in the air, or maybe it rubbed off on you from all the steadying he had to do.

The hotel room is just as you left it. Clean and pristine, smelling vaguely of lemon. Your duffel bags and personal belongings are shoved in the corner. Maybe you’ll try to read one of your books tonight, before you sleep? It would be the first time you read on an actual bed in ages. Maybe you could even call for room service? A little midnight snack? It’s not like Chrollo would mind, or at least, he probably wouldn’t. It’d be something small anyway, nothing wild.

Unless you wanted a bubbly nightcap.

Full of ideas, you take your giddy champagne self back to the bathroom to change into pajamas that he sent up earlier, humming Elgar’s Chanson, thinking about bread and quail and… Chrollo. The knife in your dress pocket gets left on the bathroom counter. It was silly to bring it, now that you think about it.

Still humming, you flop on the bed and grab the menu for room service. It wouldn’t hurt to order some extra dessert. And another glass of champagne. Maybe two…

You’re so out of sorts that at no point for the rest of the night, before your weary head hits the soft pillow, do you stop to wonder how Chrollo knew your room number.

There are few things Chrollo truly regrets in his life. One of them, he knows, will be that he couldn’t plant himself in this town for a few months in order to properly court you; to introduce you, gradually, to the concept of nen. To the knowledge that you were his soul mate.

But it can’t be helped. He has to leave tomorrow night, come hell or high water. And he certainly won’t let you drown here a moment longer. It’s for your sake. You’ll come to realize that eventually, just as you will--in time--come to forgive him for what he must do.

You’ll no doubt regret letting down your barriers in the morning. But if you hadn’t been so keen to trust in someone, to trust in him, then he wouldn’t have gotten to see something of the real you underneath all of that built-up survival instinct. And didn’t you see something of him, too? He thinks you did. Just a moment, a spark, but it was there.

You sweet thing. He could hear you humming through the door earlier; heard you order room service (champagne and desserts) and he regretted not having Shalnark swoop in during dinner to set up some security cameras.

The key to your room feels heavy in his hand. On this side, he is simply himself, staring ahead as the red thread of his soulmate leads away from him. But once he turns it into the lock and quietly opens the door, there will be nothing between you but sleep.

He opens the door and relishes in the way the thread sags even further downward. If only you could have seen how beautiful the thread looked during dinner, all tangled up as he clasped your hand in his. That’s how the thread was meant to look. Not tight and taut and unforgiving.

You’re fast asleep when he silently enters the room and unlocks the deadbolt so that Shalnark can help him remove you from the premises. Curled up underneath the covers, you look like you’re in bliss. It’s likely the first restful sleep you’ve had in a long time. Months? Years?

How awful for you, to wake up tomorrow and realize that you’re no longer in the hotel bed. And that he’s the one to blame for it. How awful for him, too, to lose his grasp on the tentatively pleasant and revealing evening you had together. But he doesn’t think you’ll be empathetic on that matter. Not for a while, anyway.

He sits down on the bed next to you and it takes a considerable amount of self-control not to curl up against you. It’s not worth the risk of you waking, although the tranquilizer in his pocket could be jabbed into your thigh early, if need be.

Besides… you’ll have a lifetime of nights together after this.

There’s no need to rush what is finally his to keep forever.

#yandere chrollo #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo x reader #yandere #yandere chrollo lucilfer #afterwitch writes

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jyoongim · 3 months

Note

I have a silly request: al continuously licking or nipping at reader's ear just to tease them bc he finds it cute making them twitch

but when reader goes to have their payback and pet al's ears, al just melts and goes full sub even when his pride is trying to deny it🥺

I wanted this to be super cutesy and fluffy, sorry if its super short ;)

Alastor enjoyed teasing you. Your surprised yelps and blushing face always gave him a good laugh. Especially, when it came to your ears.

You were currently reading a book on the couch in the lobby, while Alastor had a lone arm around your shoulders as he read the newspaper.

It was blissful silence.

But your ears always told your emotions, and whatever you were reading was getting to you. Your soft ears flicked and twitched as your eyes scanned the pages. You didn’t know that their movement had caught the demon’s attention.

Alastor watched with a soft smile as your ears moved. Sometimes they would twitch and flick about on your head, others be alert, or they would be relaxed.

Maybe it was the animal instincts, you were a doe in distress (youre literally read a book-) or maybe he found the faces you made so entertaining, because as you tilted your head back onto his shoulder;

Alastor tugged at your soft ear, sharp teeth nibbling at the appendage.

You paused your reading, trying to figure out what the demon was doing.

You gasped as his teeth were replaced by his lips and he grazed your ears softly, giving them a lick here and there.

”A-Alastor?” You tried to swat him away, shaking your head slightly to rid his assault on your ears.

Thinking maybe they were in his way, you pinned them to your head, hoping the action would tell him you were sorry.

But he was still nipping at the soft tips.

”S-Stop that” you said as he chuckled as your ear flicked in a trembling circle to get away from his mouth.

You huffed as he blew on them, swiveling your head around to finally look at him

”Something the matter my dear?” He asked. You pouted “Why are you petting me?” He let out a laugh, soundtrack rolling “Why my dear to see the entertaining faces you make of course!”

You continued to pout, trying to keep your ears as flat and away from him. The thought of how you were going to get your payback started to brew.

You found Alastor up in his radio tower, flipping through his scripts.

You were on a mission. Pet the red tuffs that stood at the top of his head.

Alastor always was nipping at your ears. Tugging at them when you least expected it, laughing when you flicked them about or flattened, whining.

You were just gonna give him a piece of his own medicine.

You crept up behind him and your attention was on the tall tuffs.

Alastor must have sensed you and turned to around, his face dawning a soft smile. His lips fixed to greet you when the weight of your hands found his head. Your eyes were wide with curiosity as your fingers rubbed at the fuzzy tuffs.

Soft.

definitely were ears

What you failed to notice was the record scratch Alastor had let out as you played with his ears.

The way you held his ears were quite a contrast on how he handle you.

You softly felt up his ears, you didn’t tug them or pinch.

Alastor pulled you into his lap as you petted him.

He was resting his head on your shoulder, letting you play with his ears, every so often twitching them when you teased the base.

”How come your ears don’t make you jittery?” You pouted.

You tugged a ear with your mouth, lips covering your teeth so its playful.

Alastor let out a deep purr and you mouthed on his ear (think like how babies teethed, just gummin it)

You giggled as you felt him melt, he was nuzzling into your neck, vibrations like a engine.

”Alastor…do you LIKE being petted?” You cooed, scratching his scalp.

He hid his face in your throat, giving you a growl

”No”

You caught sight of his shadow and as you toyed with his ears, his shadow seemed to whither in a smile on its face, eyes in the shapes of hearts.

You giggled “Your shadow is telling on you Al” you pressed your lips to his ears, enjoying how Alastor was practically a kitten.

Who knew the feared Radio Demon was such a softie

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #hazbin hotel fluff #alastor fluff

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pseudowho · 3 months

Text

Operation: Babymaker-- Benchpress

When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready.

💜 💛 Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💜 💛 Part 3 LINK HERE: Ditch the Party...again

💜 💛 Part 4 LINK HERE: Wet Dreams

💜 💛 Part 5 LINK HERE: Honeytrap/Maid Café

Interrupt Kento's workout? Get ready to be manhandled 💛

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink, fertility/infertility discussion, manhandling, full nelson 💛

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"How strong are you, Kento? Really?"

In just his checked pyjama trousers, Nanami Kento still cut an imposing figure. Even though his waist was thick with muscle (though not with heavily defined decorative abs-- just subtle planes under freckled skin), his chest and shoulders broadened out dramatically, his arms thick and veiny, his hands bold and angular.

Kento paused, his coffee halfway to his lips, holding his book open with one hand, before answering; "Strong enough, I should think. Why?"

Just modest, you thought. You looked him slowly up and down, your filthy imagination whirring. You smiled, tucking your legs up under you on the sofa, cupping your tea between two hands.

"No reason."

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You couldn't help yourself from watching.

"One."

A home gym was a blessing for Kento, who neither worked out for enjoyment nor vanity, but purely for the demands of his job.

"Two."

He was away from home enough. And people at the gym stared so much, that Kento's workouts used to feel cloying, claustrophobic, skin prickling with the eyes of thirsty or envious fellow gym-goers.

"Three."

As he pulled himself up again, feeling everything in his body clench with exertion, he did, however, feel one pair of eyes on him.

"Four...why are you hiding in the shadows, hmm?"

You jumped, biting your bottom lip between your teeth. Your mind had been spirited away by thoughts too obscene to say out loud. Thoughts of being restrained. Thoughts of being grappled into submission, pinned, gasping. Thoughts made so easy to have about the man who you knew would never hurt you.

Stepping out from behind the doorframe, your coy demeanour made Kento huff, a short puff of air from his nose, and you watched blatantly as he finished his set. In snug shorts set halfway up his thighs, and a loose drop-sleeved tank top, you reasoned you couldn't be expected to take your eyes off him either.

Kento continued, walking over to the narrow Benchpress bench, beginning to place weights on the bars, one, after another, after another and you felt yourself filled with wicked intent.

"You can't lift that," you scoffed. Kento's jaw clenched, a small smile gracing his lips, as he continued shifting plates. Your words rolled off him, water off a duck's back. The ungoadable man.

"If you think you're going to interrupt me," Kento toned, smooth and reasonable, "you're wrong. I always get my workout done in 45 minutes, and..." he crooked his wrist, checking the time, "...I won't be late for anything."

Kento laid himself back on the narrow seat, no bench left at all on either side of his hips, the wings of his shoulders gaping out over the bench's confines. As the soft fabric of his shorts stretched over his thick thighs, settling over the prominent bulge of his groin, you gulped. Your mouth watered. And as Kento began to lift, with short ragged grunts rumbling from his chest, it all became too much to resist.

Kento's eyes were fixed upwards, hyper focused, feeling the impossibly deep ache of lifting something just about too heavy for him to lift. He barely noticed the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye-- you, languidly undressing down to your underwear, eyes fixed on Kento's thighs.

Kento jolted as he felt you settle, warm and blushing, straddling his spread thigh. He almost fumbled his lift, and coughed in alarm to see you sat, almost naked, pressing your core against his tensed muscles.

"Won't be late for anything? Even me? Even when I want your baby so badly, Kento," you purred, your hands coming up to remove your bra, dropping it onto Kento's twitching abs as your breasts slipped free. Kento felt a bead of sweat drop down his temple, and he growled at you in warning, frustrated to feel his composure wobble.

"Shit...you little-- got to keep to time--" Kento's arms shook as he completed the lift, resting the bar for a moment as he panted, and you rocked your hips against his thigh, pleasure immediately churning through you. Kento's jaw twitched, fists clenching and unclenching, determined to maintain his schedule, but feeling his body betray him, his cock twitching to life in his gym shorts.

Straight after, Kento reassured himself, fighting the urge to throw you over his shoulder, throw you onto the bed, and pound his cum into you until you begged for mercy, nearly done, keep to time, keep to time.

Kento's watch beeped, and he bolted to action, gripping the bar again, beginning another set of lifts-- anything to distract himself from you slipping your underwear to the side as you continued to rock your pussy, now wet and puffy, against his bare thigh. You sighed and keened, two hands planted for support on his hips, the palm of your hand brushing temptingly against his aching cock.

Kento groaned, unsure if it was from the painful stretch of the lift or from your desperate attention to his thigh, heat spreading across his shoulders and chest. His cock was throbbing now, uncomfortably tight in his shorts, pressed down at an awkward angle.

You watched Kento shift and twitch as you humped his thigh, and shivered with a sweet little moan as his muscles fluttered under your clit. Kento felt his throat go dry when your hands drifted lazily to pinch and roll your own nipples. He could feel you getting closer to orgasm, and it drove him mad that he wasn't filling your belly with his seed at the same time.

Leaning forwards, still panting, furiously rutting against Kento's thigh, drips of your arousal now running down the sides, you ghosted your hands over the outline of his cock. Kento gasped mid-lift, almost dropping the bar onto himself.

"Fuck--" he gasped, snapping your name. He hopped one hand centrally on the bars, and clapped his other hand over yours pressed to his erection, "--wait a few minutes or I swear, you're going to kill me--" Kento's words caught in his chest, his other hand darting up to stabilise the tilting bar, as you lowered his shorts, his cock springing free against his clenching abs.

With a lip-biting, devious smile, you waited until Kento had begun another lift, still stubbornly refusing to stop his workout, before grasping his cock, and laying a long, flat-tongued lick to the underside from ball to tip.

Kento cursed like a sailor, his elbows buckling, the bars lilting sideways with a metallic smash into the dock. Spitting curses at you, coming out of him in a series of growling chastisements, Kento coughed again, a spurt of pre-cum salting your tongue as you giggled around his needy cockhead.

Kento fumbled, lost in your wet little mouth sucking him in. He struggled to lift the bars again to place them in their dock, as your thighs cramped and trembled, approaching your orgasm.

His hands splayed above him like a surprised kitten, his chin to his chest as he stared down at you in fury and alarm, Kento groaned. His head snapped back to press to the bench, then back to his chest to watch your nose graze his honey-blonde hair again.

As he moved a hand down to tangle in your hair, colours popping in his eyes in ecstasy, you released his cock with a wet suck, mouth falling open as you came on his thigh. With one hand still gripping Kento by the cock, he bit into the back of his knuckles to stop himself from emptying into your hand.

Kento still glared at you in barely-restrained fury, for having nearly ended his life through means of a deadly benchpress, and opened his mouth to bark at you. His orgasm still threatened at the edge of a precipice.

"Not only am I now late," he growled, "you almost killed me-- I don't know which one is worse, I--"

When you moved up his body, straddling his hips and rolling your slick heat along his cock, Kento gripped the bars above him again for sanity, spitting feathers at you again, infuriatingly flustered.

"Thought if you were that strong," you panted, cheeks flushed and euphoric, "you could do both at once." Kento huffed at you again like an angry bull and, as if to prove a point, rolled the bar in his palms, shifting his shoulders, brick-like and tense, ready to begin another lift.

For a second time, as Kento moved into another benchpress, you raised yourself above his weeping cock, and sunk down onto his length, your wet walls plump and stretchy and inviting him to bottom out in one slick movement.

Kento moaned, his hips lifting you clear of the bench for a second as he brought the bar down to his chest, twitching and heaving with exertion and twisted pleasure. You stayed flush, rocking backwards and forwards, revelling in the fullness of him inside you, not pulling him out of you for a second.

Kento thought he had died and seen heaven when, the moment he pushed upwards to lift the weights off his chest, you leaned forwards and whispered up to him; "Hey, Kento-- I'm ovulating."

Kento came with a hoarse, wounded cry, everything pushing out of his body at once as he completed the lift, and his cum spurted up into you with mind-blowing force. Groaning a series of short, agonised groans, his cock still jumping and gushing, he slopped the bar back into the dock. You continued to rock his seed into you, eyes closed and a satisfied little smile on your face. Kento saw red.

You felt yourself being instantly grappled. Kento lifted your thighs up towards you enough that he could spin to you face the other way, his cock still plugging his cum inside you. Lifting you against him, locking your arms behind your head and your knees beside them, Kento dropped you both to the gym mat, completely restraining you in a full-nelson.

You squeaked, trying to squirm. It was absolutely futile, and you felt Kento's hot breath in your ear.

"Not that strong, hmm?" He hummed, low and threatening, "Strong enough to open your pickle jars for years though, apparently." You started to laugh, and cut off abruptly as Kento squeezed you tighter, chuckling as you squeaked again. His chuckle stretched into a groan, low and lusty, at the feeling of your pussy throbbing around his length, which had barely softened, and was rapidly hardening again.

Grappling you with his back to the floor, Kento shunted his cock up into you, satisfied at you crying out and pressing back against him; "Not that strong?" Kento planted a harsh kiss to your temple, and bucked up into you again, satisfied to feel you melt, helpless in his hold. Kento felt a lick of pride run through him as he continued to hammer upwards into you, the air filled with the squelch of his cock in your cum-filled cunt.

"Punched men through concrete-- haaah, shit-- crushed Curses under brick walls," Kento listed, grunting and ruthless as he slammed into you now, feeling his tip bully into your cervix, "and look at you now-- more origami than woman-- and you will take every-- fucking-- bit-- of --it--" Kento snapped his hips back to punctuate each word, and you mewled pitifully at him, tears streaking into your hair.

Kento laughed, feeling himself peaking again, licking your tears away with mock-gentle shushes, captivated by the way your tits bounced every time he rutted up into you.

"So-ooo-- good-- Kentooo-ooo," you squeaked out around his thrusts, a thick hot pleasure roiling in your womb as you begged him, "h--harder--please." Kento snorted, his hands gripping your thighs harder, lifting you off him to slap you back down in time with him pressing up into you. You shuddered, marshmallow-soft, twitching in pleasure as your second orgasm washed through your belly, ready to gulp Kento into you.

Kento was awash with the closeness of you, the delicious hot wet suck of your walls around his cock, the thought of you round and full and growing, because of him. Keeping you restrained with one thick forearm holding your thighs and arms back, his other hand drifted to your belly, pressing lightly, feeling the jolt as his cock rammed against your cervix.

Feeling your pussy squeeze and flutter around him, Kento's grip never faltered as he gasped, husky and satisfied, feeling his cock spurt inside you again, rolling you from side to side as he thrust lazily up into you, careful to not allow any of his seed to slip free. He lay with you in his arms for a few moments hand massaging your belly, willing his cum to soak up inside you.

With one final slow groan, Kento pulled out of you, pressing your thighs together on exit, and releasing you from the trap of his arms. Though you had planned to fall asleep, there and then, on the gym mats, Kento had other ideas.

You felt yourself being scooped up, held upside down against Kento by the waist, and he walked you to his pull-up bar across the room. You were appalled to feel him drape your legs over it, and as he let go of you, you were forced to hang upside down by the backs of your knees, a child on the monkey-bars.

"Kento!" You squeaked, appalled, cupping your breasts in your hands as he dusted off his hands and moved to settle himself again for benchpressing, "You-- how dare you-- you can't just hang me up like wet laundry!"

Kento hummed smilingly to himself as he checked his watch, reaching up to grip the bars again;

"Well darling, I've got a workout to finish. And you've got a baby to make. Isn't that what all this nonsense was about?"

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Up next: Ditch the Party Part 2 and more surprises

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myfictionaldreams · 3 months

Text

Subspace // Batboys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel introduces Rhysand and Cassian to Subspace, with your help, of course.

A/N: Please make sure to read the tags before reading. Specifically for the breathplay aspect, as it's nearly to the point of passing out. This is also a reminder that this is a work of fiction and not a way to teach fetishes; if I have described anything wrong, then I apologise; this is just my interpretation of a specific scenario. It is not real. Please stay safe out there if trying different kinks, only practice with those you trust!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, Polyamory, Mates, creampie, size kink, dom/sub undertones, rough sex/oral, restraints, praise kink, masturbation, subspace (!), discussion of safe words, multiple orgasms (!), crying, overstimulation, fingering, breathplay (!!), nearly passing out, cum eating, past emotional abuse (ex), aftercare

Words:6.4 k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Unsure as to who was louder with their orgasmic cries, you or Cassian, as he pumps you full with his seed, the pulse of his cock matching the time of your fluttering cunt. Not only was Cassian’s cum coating your inners, mixing with your slick, but also that of his High Lord, who had thoroughly filled you moments before. A steady creamy puddle had been dripping out of your delicate hole and was saturating the satin bedsheets beneath.

It was a beautiful sight to Cassian as he tried to catch his breath, staring down at where you were both still connected as his firm hands clenched around your thighs where he was currently pressing your legs so far back that your knees and ears almost touched.

You always mused that you thought he looked like a God when he looked like this. Yes, others who had witnessed your mate on the battlefield, in charge of his High Lord's armies and defeating the enemies, was a sight to behold and often had people whispering for the Mother.

You agreed with this astonishment, but when seeing him like this, naked, muscles flexing from the exertion, a sweaty sheen over his body that caused his hair to stick to his face and the pure dominance that radiated from his energy. Cassian was beautiful, as was each of your mates, but with his cock currently still stretching you full, there was no one else on your mind but him.

Cassian’s full mouth twisted into an all-knowing, arrogant smirk as he gazed down at your lust-filled eyes ravishing his body.

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious after that; you must really be in a mood”, he jests with an eyebrow raised, the scar running through it moving with the movement. You’d have laughed and agreed with him if you had the energy. These ‘moods’ that he referred to was the polite way your mates described you being unfathomably horny.

Of course, you wanted your mates every second that there was air in your lungs, but sometimes it would become so overwhelming your skin felt too tight, heart palpations, tremble in your fingers that would settle until one of their bodies was touching yours. Rhysand reassured that it was expected to feel this way whilst newly mated, and you had not one but three mates - possibly a joke played to you by the Cauldron - so it was rational for your body's reactions to be heightened.

That didn’t make it any easier as you fucked each of them to multiple orgasms and only felt sated after reaching a new unconscious state. You were close too, but not close enough as you continued to admire Cassian, from how his beautiful wings stretched out behind him to how his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, moistening them for a moment before he dipped lower.

The kiss was heated and messy, saliva and sweat mixing on your tongues as they stroked together. A flicker of joy warmed in the centre of your chest as you could finally run your fingers through his damp hair, tucking the strands behind his rounded ears so you could see his face without the shadows.

Each of your legs was carefully lowered on either side of his body so that his chest pressed against yours. His powerful arms now rested beside your head so that he could stroke the back of his knuckles against your cheeks.

The affection and love he was projecting were the opposite reactions to moments ago when he was pounding into you like it was his latest mission. After Rhysand had teased and pinned you to the bedpost, making you orgasm until your knees trembled and he had to carry you to the bed where he finally came inside of you, Cassian had chuckled that he wasn’t sure you could handle him with the fucked out expression on your face.

You smirked and instructed him to fuck as hard as possible. Cassian never backed down from a challenge and did just this, leaving you exhausted and dreamy.

“Cauldron, I fucking love you”, Cassian pants into your mouth, the warmth of his breath tickling your neck as he kisses his way to the sensitive area below your ear.

“I love you too, " you sigh in contentment, fingers lowering over his powerful shoulders, causing him to shiver as you neared his sensitive wings.

As his lips hovered over the shell of your pointed ear, he whispered, “Do you really think you can handle my brother's cock?”

You can’t help the giggle that bursts from you, wishing you could stroke Cassian’s ego and say you were too tired for the last of your mates, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

“Oh, I know she can, can’t you, my love?” Azriel's deep voice comes from behind Cassian, who observes you closely. The male hovering over you turned to look at his friend over his shoulder, but Azriel continued to glance at you as his wing twitched, indicating Cass to move.

With one last kiss to your cheek, the warmth and weight of Cassian crawled from your body, meaning the setting sun was now directly beaming into your eyes, causing you to try to bury your face into the pillow beneath your head. “What can I say? I’m greedy for you all”, you insisted with a sigh, smiling to yourself but attempting to keep your voice quiet after seeing the windowless arches to the sun.

You were pretty sure all of Veleris had heard you being fucked by your mates, and every time you remembered that there were no windows in your home and only the sheer curtains flowing in the breeze, you attempted to keep the noise down. This only meant that your mates’ attempts to make you cry out in euphoria improved tenfold.

“Insatiable you are indeed”, growled the voice of the male who had been quietly watching the three of you interact. Rhysand’s usually perfectly combed hair was thoroughly ruffled from and sticking to his temple from where you’d been running your fingers through it earlier in the afternoon. Your eyes connected with his; the usual brightness that gleamed with the violet colour seemed clouded to a near-pitch-black colour of pure night as he admired his mate being thoroughly worshipped on the bed.

You were thankful the three of them were so close, Brothers in a way that close childhood friends were. Their possessive tendencies were always there, growling or baring their teeth at one another when they’d decided it was enough touching. However, most of the time, they were patient, more content with the fact that you were feeling happy and thoroughly pleasured. On the occasions where all three of them touched you simultaneously, it was more fun than you could handle most days due to the manhandling and dominance, but that’s always what made it more fun.

Today was not one of those days, though, as you admired your handsome High Lord as he stroked his thick cock slowly, those dark eyes searching over your body and resting on the puddle that was growing beneath your cunt.

Smiling over at him, Rhysand’s lips twitched into a soft gaze, the speed of his hand increasing as the joy on your face increased his arousal. For a moment, you contemplated trying to crawl over to him, kneel on the floor and offer to keep his cock warm with your mouth, but the growing shadow forming at the end of the excessively large bed captured your focus entirely.

You’d thought for a moment that Azriel’s shadows had been the object to block out the sun from blinding your vision, but a quick glance showed you that it was his wing, which meant a deep red hue now covered your body from the sun beaming through the membrane of his wing.

An ice-cold breeze circled your ankles, dragging your attention away from Azriel as his shadows formed into pairs of hands, trapping your legs in their spread position. Licking your lips in anticipation, you attempted to sit up and reach for Az, but the shadows grew in size, skimming over your sides and adding pressure to your shoulders until you were lying back down. The pressure remained over your shoulders, and further hands firmly gripped around your wrists so that they were pinned to your side. There was no getting out of the hold you were now captured within, and as your pulse began to pound within your chest, a delicate caress against your cheek fluttered by as the shadows tried to calm away your anxieties.

Azriel watched you closely, from the way your breathing rate increased as anticipation and adrenaline began to pound through your veins to the way more thick white cum dripped out of your cunt with the movements.

The Shadowsinger’s head tilted to the left as he asked, “Do you remember what we discussed earlier?” Azriel could have been perceived as the opposite if Cassian had looked like a God earlier. The setting sun beamed around his body, causing a light aura over his outline, but the front of his body darkened into a shadow so that you couldn’t see his handsome face. Power rolled off of him in waves as he waited for your answer.

Your mouth became suddenly dry, making it difficult to form words, so you simply nodded yes in response.

“Wait, what did you talk about earlier?” Cassian asks as he heaves his bulky body into the spare seat on the opposite side of Rhysand. Your eyes flicked to him for a second, noting the fact that his cock was still very much hard and now glistening in your juices. Cassian spread his legs and took the object of your desire in hand, beginning to stroke slowly, his balls tightening due to the action.

You didn’t answer, not wanting to discuss what had been talked about earlier. Azriel took a step closer to the bed, not taking his eyes off you for a second, as he casually remarked, “You’ll see. "

“You know, it’s not nice to keep secrets from your High Lord, " Rhys says quietly, his eyes flicking to Azriel with the underlying command that laced his words.

“All you need to know is that we have trust between the four of us. I know what I’m doing, and our sweet mate knows what’s doing and has trust. Isn’t that right, Love?”

“Yes, I trust you. All of you, " you say confidently, gripping the sheets beneath you until your knuckles strain.

Azriel nods, moving closer to the bed's end as his shadows pin your body down. “And what else do you need to tell me?” Azriel asks.

“If I want you to stop, I shake my head, say red, or tap twice” As you explained, you made the motion, tapping against the bed and shaking your head no.

“Good girl”, Az praises, his deep tone causing sparks of arousal to heat in your pussy as you attempted to rub your thighs together to ease some of the tension, but the shadows kept your legs separated.

Cassian’s fist stopped moving as he looked between you and Azriel and asked, “Are you sure I don’t need to be worried if we’re talking about safe worlds?”

“It’s fine”, you answer in place of Az. “I wanted to try this and didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, which you two are making with the silent conversation I know you’re having, so please, just have some trust that this is something that I want, and it’s safe”. Cassian at least had the decency to look embarrassed, having been caught talking to Rhysand mind-to-mind. However, the High Lord just continued to glance between his Shadowsinger and you with uncertainty.

A flick of coolness strokes down your sternum, and a shadow spirals over your skin. Azriel continues to use the darkness to praise you with subtle touches.

Cass leans further back into the chair until it groans under the strain of his powerful body. “Fine, fine. I’ll shut my big mouth”, he explains with a grin, his fingers tightening around his cock once more.

You were too busy admiring the drip of precum that had formed at the tip of Cass’ cock that you’d not noticed that Azriel was finally on the bed until his ice-cold scarred fingers trailed up the sensitive area of your inner thigh.

“I’ve been counting, you know”, Azriel casually mentions under his breath.

“Counting?” you ask, confused about what he was referring to.

Azriel settles between your knees; with him having moved closer, you could see him in all of his glory, the smooth, perfectly formed muscles over his body, the black swirls of both ink and shadows that ran over his skin and those captivating hazel eyes that seemed even darker than Rhys’.

“How many times you’ve came. I’ve been counting. Even the little one, you didn’t verbalise as Rhys took you from behind. Now, usually, at this point, you’ve had so many. I know you’re only one or two away from passing out, but that’s not our plan for today, is it?”

Even though your cheeks flood with warmth at his truth, you still shake your head, wishing you could reach up for him. Azriel smirked cooly down at you as his hands began to smooth over your stomach, higher until cupping your breasts, his finger and thumb pinching your pebbled nipples, causing you to moan and try and arch into the touch.

“My greedy, greedy girl. Is it not enough that both of my brothers have made you cum all of those times already?”

“I need you” you gasp breathlessly at his rough touches as he continues to play with your already sensitive nipples.

“And I need you”, he says earnestly, and you couldn’t deny the whimper that left your throat at his words. “What do you want first, fingers, mouth or cock?”

“Cock”, you say without a hint of hesitation but are unable to look him in the eye at the use of the crude word, which also earned a hearty laugh from Rhys.

Azriel’s hand's massage further up your body until he's covering you completely, almost in the same position that Cass had been, as his fingers cup around your jaw and hips slot between your thighs.

“My pretty girl can have my cock”, Azriel muses as he lowers his lips to hover just over yours, not closing the gap entirely as you try and lean up to capture his mouth, but he teases by staying an inch away.

You’re soon distracted by your cunt once more, stretching to accommodate your sizeable mate, particularly Azriel. A moment passed when he allowed you to collect your breath before his restraint was released.

He fucked you with long, powerful thrusts that, if you weren’t already being held down to the bed, you probably would have shifted up into the headboard with how hard his hips slammed into yours. Those lips of his that you had been desperate to kiss finally closed the gap as well, absorbing all your begs and moans for more. The restraints around your wrists released but only for a moment as Az eased your hands above your head, holding your crossed-over wrists in one hand as his other squeezed and held onto your hip for stability.

The dominance of his hold was similar to how Cass and Rhys had held you, but there was just something else when it came to Az; whether it be his shadows or the way he paid such close attention to your body, he seemed to be able to bring you right to the edge in no time at all.

Pulling your lips back from his for a second, you gasped, “I-” Your words failed with the need to tell him you want to orgasm, but he already knows.

“Cum for me”, he demands, not slowing with his fucking. Your cunt tightened around his girthy cock, squeezing in flutters until you were squeezing your eyes closed and forgetting to breathe.

The hand on your hip moved to your throat, wrapping around it, pressing slightly but not enough to stop you breathing as he ordered, “Cum again”.

You weren’t sure whether it was a shadow or the specific way he was rolling his hips, but your clit was being massaged in time with his thrusts, and you were just about ready to explode. One orgasm led to another without a break in between, and with the previous orgasms that you’d already experienced, Azriel was right that something seemed to switch as you reached your level of exhaustion.

“You look so beautiful when you're cumming on my cock. Want to know how I’ve been keeping count of your orgasms? When you cum, your eyes glaze over for just a second, like you’re so lost in pleasure that you leave your body and then come back, but feeling how tight your cunt is gripping me right now is just a bonus”.

Hearing his words and grunts had you in a state of pure bliss, wishing even more that your arms were free to hold onto some part of his body. Your mouth opens to let out a mewling moan, biting your bottom lip as you try to remain focused on Az.

“I know it’s a lot for you to deal with. Love, do you need to use your words?”

“No, please don’t stop”, you demand, trying to roll your hips to match his movements, but the weight on top of your body pinned that area of you down.

“Good girl. Want to cum together? I know you can do it again for me; I know you’re sensitive, but let’s cum together, my love”, he groans as he finishes his demands as he watches your eyes glaze and then roll back as your cunt begins to squeeze him tightly in bursts as you came again.

Azriel’s wings flared even further, nearly knocking Cassian and Rhys as he came with a heavy grunt and thrust, stilling so that every drop emptied inside of you until there was no room left, and it began to trickle out to join the puddle of your other two mates on the sheets below.

Soft lips caressed your cheek as Az praised you with kind words, “You did so well for me”. He moved lower, exploring your throat, collarbones, sternum, over your belly button and only then did you realise what his plans were. “I’m not done with you yet”.

The shadows release your ankles so that your mate can grip your legs and press your thighs back, baring your thoroughly fucked, pulsing, cum filled cunt to him. Az growls as he delves his tongue deep within, feeling the lingering pulses of your overstimulated walls, the softness that had slightly swollen from the amount of fucking you’d been doing.

Even though you released a guttural scream, back arching as far as you could reach, his warm tongue was a welcome sensation, soothing the ache. Your arousal also burned in your core at the thought of Azriel eating all the different concoctions of seed still spilling out, but he only groaned in pleasure at the taste.

You were enjoying the feeling of his tongue trying to empty your pussy of juices with a flick and curl of the muscle, but as he moved p to your hypersensitive, swollen and throbbing clit, the fire and burning returned as he circled the nub slowly.

“Ah!” you cry out as your eyes clench close, attempting to close your legs, but he held them firmly open.

“Eyes on me”, Azriel demands, looking up at your face closely to look for signs if it's too much or if you’re doing any sort of sign for him to stop.

“Please!” you beg, eyes widening as you make sure to look at him lying with his face between your legs, his hair sticking up, and once more, your hands itched to stroke through the strands. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but as he continued with the slow circling of your clit with his tongue and the burning subsided and was replaced with the tightening within your pussy, you knew you were going to cum again. The thought frankly scared you with how many you’d had already.

“I know you can do it”, he encourages as his wet tongue returns to your hole as his cold thumb presses your clit. Tears had begun to line your eyes, streaking down your cheeks as you came with a cry, your entire body trembling and muscles aching from the amount of tensing you’d been doing for what seemed like hours now.

Your hearing was turning fuzzy, so when Rhys deeply groaned as he came over his chest from watching you orgasm so hard, it sounded like he was in another room, almost like cotton wool had been forced into your ears.

“It’s too much, " you hiccup, wishing you could wipe away the tears wetting the pillow beneath your head.

Azriel tried to sound as sympathetic as possible as he looked up at you, kissing your thigh that was once more being held back by shadows, “I know, my love, but only a few more times. You can do it”. You cry out once more as he begins to lower his face back to your pussy but pauses just as two of his fingers circle your hole. “Remember what we talked about?” Nodding your head in response whilst maintaining eye contact, he continued, “You’re in control of the situation, understand?”

“Yes, I understand”, you utter whilst taking a deep breath, trying to calm your cries. His two fingers enter you slowly at first, easing and out before a third one joins. Usually, it would take you some time to adjust to the size of his fingers, but after the sizeable cocks, you didn’t need any prep for the three fingers.

Az moved them with speed, curling to stroke against that beautiful spot that had stars beaming in your eyesight which only heightened as his lips sealed around your already overstimulated clit, and he sucked. He knew exactly what he was doing, and with each orgasm that came, the response was more exaggerated from you, and the time between them decreased. You were pretty sure if he continued, you would just be having one single orgasm that went on and on until you inevitably passed out.

Just when you're tensing all over, cunt tightening around his three fingers, did he move in with the next and final step of his plan. Azriel's icey, scarred hand wrapped around your nose and mouth. It was a relief at first to have something cool against your hot skin, but as you tried to suck in a breath as your orgasm neared closer, the panic set in.

It was what you had hoped for, to have the control taken away, but knowing that if you tapped your fingers or shook your head underneath his palm, it would stop. The thing was, you were already beginning to feel somewhat loopy from the orgasms that you didn’t want it to stop, which was why Azriel was doing this; he knew your body down the tiniest detail, especially with his shadows whispering away in his ear, counting your heartbeat.

The adrenaline only seemed to increase further as panic was doubling as you attempted to pull against the shadows around your wrists and thighs. The overwhelming pleasure between your lungs was the only thing that burned more than the need to breathe. You’re unsure what you need more, to cum or breath, but you’re only given one option, just as dark spots replaced the stars in your vision as you came around his fingers with an incredible squeeze of your walls around the digits.

Musky, sweated scented air filled your lungs desperately as his hand now cupped your cheek, supporting you as you tried to regain your full consciousness, but as Azriel continued to finger you, now at a slower pace, all you could think about was him and nothing more.

“That’s it- nice deep breaths for me. You’re doing so well for me. Did that feel good?” Az asks.

“Ye-Yes!” you stutter while trying to catch your breath. Your head lolls to one side while you nuzzle into his palm. Your eyes are entirely gazed at and unfocused, looking down at your mate.

“Good”, is all he says as he returns to sucking your clit and covering your mouth and nose again.

This time he had to tap your face a few times after you came to rouse you properly, but you were still greedily sucking air without an issue. However, now, Cassian and Rhys had stood, towering over the sides of the beds with concern, but arousal still evident across their beautiful faces.

“That’s a good girl. How do you feel?” Azriel asks, ignoring the two other males.

“Goo-Good. Good, " you say repeatedly, having only the energy and mental capacity to repeat the same words repeatedly.

You’re starting to feel a tingling sensation throughout your limbs, the edges of your sight blurring completely as your thoughts remain on how good you felt. Az watched you so closely that you weren’t sure he was blinking. “I know I can get you to cum one more time for me”.

However, before you can nod, you’re both interrupted by Rhysand growling, “Azriel. She’s had enough”.

“No, she hasn’t. I know she hasn’t. Just trust me. You can do this, can’t you, Love?” Azriel asks you.

Making sure to look him in the eye, you nod your head and say, “Yes”. Those special fingers of his begin curling with great speed once more as his tongue circles your throbbing clit.

You’re breathing heavily, screaming constantly until the air is cut off once more. Your lungs burn, your head is spinning, and all you can think of is cumming, begging silently to cum for Azriel, to be good for him, that you could do this, you could cum and show your other mates that Azriel was right.

As your orgasm rushes through you, your entire body does the opposite as it had been before. Instead of tensing, it went completely limp, eyes rolling back as your cunt continued to pulse and squeeze around his digits. When your eyes opened again, Azriel was half hovering above you, his fingers carefully easing out of your cunt, but you could hardly feel it as he tapped your cheeks a few times to bring you around more.

“I-I-I-I-I”, you mumbled incoherently as the shadows dispersed from your body entirely so you were no longer restrained.

“Shhh, you’re ok. You’re safe, Love, you’re ok”, Azriel whispers carefully as he begins to massage areas of your body to help you feel more, but it doesn’t help the complete and utter bliss settled through your mind and soul. It felt as if you were floating, and you never wanted to come back down again.

Azriel gave silent instructions to Rhysand, who shared these with Cassian as they stood beside the side of the bed, unsure if they should be ripping Azriel apart or helping their mate.

“Azriel”, Cassian warns, his entire body stiff and muscles flexing as he watches you blink heavily, body twitching with uncontrollable movements. Even though you were sucking in deep breaths, it seemed like you couldn’t catch your breath again.

“She’s fine, aren’t you?” Azriel asks, stroking away the flowing tears that you hadn’t noticed had started again down your cheeks.

“Ye-Ye-Yes. Yes, Yes”, you say, nodding tiredly.

“Are you sure?” Cass whispers, kneeling on the side of the bed and reaching for your hand, noticing that you couldn’t even squeeze his hand back as he held it carefully.

“Just give her some time; her head is all over the place at the moment, but it’s exactly where she wanted to be”, the Shadowsinger explained under his breath, still watching you very closely.

“Cu-Cum, cum”, you mutter, words still somewhat muffled from how heavy your tongue felt in your mouth.

“What’s that, Love?” Azriel asks, “You want to cum again?”

“Y-Yes”, you nod slowly, still staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Azriel smiles down at you. “So good for me. I think you’ve had enough for today. Just take some slow, deep breaths for me” You follow his instructions, taking slow, deep breaths until you don’t feel breathless anymore. As exhaustion begins to take over, your eyes close, but those scarred hands tap gently against your cheek to keep them open; you can’t even feel the temperature of his cold hands.

“I need you to keep your eyes on me. I don’t want you to fall asleep in this headspace, okay? Just like we talked about. "

“Ok”, you say just once, looking up at him but not seeing at all.

“What headspace? Did you break my mate, Azriel?” Rhysand snarls as he, too, kneels on the side of the bed, his wings extended to match his Brothers. The darkness of night crawls from his tense shoulders as he reaches forward to run a hand over the arm and leg closest to him.

“She’s not broken; she’s just floating. Isn’t that right?” You nod, looking only at Azriel. Cass sighs through his nose, having not had the answers given to him right away, as Az continues to give only half sentences. “I’ll explain in a minute, but I just need you to be there for her as she properly comes back”.

It takes several moments of tense massaging and silent raging for the boys as they watch you tiredly blink, the unfocused gaze and dreamy stare slowly hardening until you’re actually looking at your surroundings, shivering at the coolness of Azriel’s hands as they travel down your ribs.

Floating was the only way you could describe the experience like you had miraculously grown your own pain of Iillyrian wings and were flying through the clouds without care. Even the soft sheets beneath you couldn’t be felt when you were in that high headspace. Not even your name could be drawn out of you if asked, but slowly, with the help of your mate's touches and scents and Rhysand caressing the wall in your mind, you finally topple back to reality.

Eyes flicking between your three mates, two of which looked like they were bracing for war, you finally gave a tentative smile, feeling your cheeks warming back up from their intense gazes.

“There’s my girl”, Cass praises as he squises your wrist gently.

“Hey”, you whisper croakily, throat aching from all the screaming you’d been doing.

Azriel lowers himself, kissing your lips carefully once before maintaining intense eye contact. At this close proximity, you can see the hints of green throughout his hazel eyes. “You’re safe with us; you know that, right?”

“Yes, I know. I feel safe”, you reassure him, trying to lift your hand to caress his cheeks, but your arms are still too quick.

“Good, we’re going to bath together and clean you up. Then I think we need to explain to these two what’s happened”, Azriel explained as you nodded in understanding and closed your eyes, but a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose had you opening them again as his gaze softened, “I still need you to keep your eyes open. I don’t think you’re completely back yet, so no sleeping just yet.”

Before you can nod in understanding, two arms are carefully shifting beneath your body. One hook is under your knees, and the other supports your back as Rhysand lifts you to his chest, your head carefully laying across his shoulder as he walks the two of you into the bathing room.

Nuzzling into his warmth, he rested the two of you in the vast-sized bath and began to run the water hot, letting it slowly creep up your body as you sat between his muscular legs. Rhys held you close, ensuring that your eyes remained open and on his. The violet colour returned to the brightness you were used to as he continued to massage your limbs back to life.

Splashing from behind you indicates that the other two had joined in the water as they both hissed at the heat soaking into their muscles. Az takes your legs into his lap, massaging carefully over your calves as Cass takes hold of a hand, kissing the back of it and linking your fingers together.

Everyone’s attention then turns to Azriel as he begins to explain. “It’s called subspace”.

“Sub? Space?” Cassian repeats slowly, as if trying to sound out the new phrase but is entirely unsure.

“Yes”, continued Az, “It’s related to hormones and an emotional state where an individual becomes so lost within the moment, almost like a trance, that they aren’t able to make decisions for themselves and experience side effects like feeling the sensation that they are floating or euphoric. Similar to an out-of-body experience or a high. It can come from a physical response like shown today or an emotional response depending on how submissive the individual is”.

Rhysand seemed to tense further after the explanation, so you tried to lean into his body more as he began to talk. “Right, ok. So, this is something you’ve experienced before?” he asks, tilting his head down to look at you.

“Yes”, you say stoically, now not looking him in the eye as your fingers curl and grip Cassian, as the sensations return to you. “You know the male that I was with years before I met any of you? He um- He,” you were struggling to find the correct phases to say as you could feel the tension suddenly thick in the air at the mention of your previous lover.

Thankfully, Azriel continued the explanation for you, but you didn’t miss the stern tone of his voice. “With subspace, it’s important for the one experiencing it to have some sort of support. As I’ve explained, it’s to consent or look after yourself when going through a high like this. What my love is trying to explain is that this fucker used to leave her like how she was and either go drinking or fall asleep. She’d be on her own and-” Azriel blows out a long, steady breath as he closes his eyes, the shadows beginning to shake around him with the increase of his anger.

Sitting up further in Rhys’ lap, you continued the discussion. “I like getting to the point of being in subspace. It feels so freeing, and I trust you all to look after me; that’s why I spoke to Az first, just to make sure that you’d even want to try it, and I know it can look scary. But with my previous partner, he would leave me by myself, and I’d fall asleep, and when I woke up, I would have this impending doom sensation. I’ve read that it still has something to do with hormones. Still, I would feel so low and depressed without the support, almost like I was going to die with how low I felt. Still, after a few days, I would feel back to normal”.

You wanted to be open with them all, but seeing them all holding back some restraint with the anger they were experiencing, you knew you needed to pull them back before they went on the hunt.

“Please, for the love of the Mother, tell me this fuckers name”, Cassian demands lowly. It was your only secret, the name of the male you’d once been with and had been emotionally scarred from. You were unsure as to why, whether it be fear or to refrain from violence, but you had never told any of them the name.

Shaking your head no, you collapse further into Rhys, which causes some tension to leave his body as he holds you close with an arm around your waist and his lips caressing the back of your head.

“You know, I could just slip into your mind and find out”, Rhyand whispers, stating something that both Cass and Az were wondering.

“Yes, you could, but you won’t, " you confidently say. It was the one wish you had made him promise upon becoming mate- no creeping through your mind, no matter what. Rhys kisses your head again to confirm that he wouldn’t do this.

“So this subspace, " Cassian interrupts the anger by changing the subject to something you were thankful for. Are you sure it feels good? I thought you had passed out earlier, which frightened me, to be truthful with you. "

Your fingers squeeze his once more as you look over at him and give him a reassuring smile, “It feels amazing and a little addicting to feel like that and like I said, I trust the three of you more than anyone. Usually, it doesn’t take long for me to fall into subspace, but it’s been a while; I think I’ve put some barriers up in my mind to stop going to that place because of my past”.

“And luckily for her, I’ve seen this sort of thing before”, Azriel explains.

“So how do we make sure she doesn’t feel awful like she did with that fucker?” Cass asks with a subtle growl.

“Aftercare”, Az explains with a shrug of his shoulders, “Exactly like you have been doing already. Making sure she stays awake and feels safe, food and water helps. Talking to her, holding her, and warm baths are always good”.

You gently smile with Azriel as he lists what you cherish most about aftercare, but Cassian’s next question causes you to nearly bite your tongue.

“And the choking? To the point where she nearly passed out. Was that part of the subspace, too?”

Azriel smirks cockily as you giggle and hide your face in Rhys’ chest. “No, she just wanted to try that out. It’s called breathplay. It’s not for everyone; I’ve had some experience with it. Can’t just go around choking people until they pass out like a brute, Cass”.

The water sways as your mate shoves Az in the shoulder.

The chest you’re learning on begins to vibrate as Rhys muses, “Guess even after 500 years of living, I still have lots to learn”. You hum in response, exhaustion fully settling into your body now as you wish to close your eyes so you look over at Az,

“Can I sleep yet?”

“Not yet. I need you to eat and drink something first. Stay here; I’ll get you something, " he explains as he kisses your knee, lowers your feet into Cass’s lap, and climbs out of the bath. You sigh into the embrace of your other mates.

#batboys smut #batboys x reader #acotar smut #acotar #batboys #azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand smut #cassian smut #cassian x reader #cassian #ive never written for acotar before im excited #mine*

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cordeliawhohung · 4 months

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i’m going feral for shy!reader x mafia!underboss simon like i need him flirting with her at johns club and her blushing hard at him lighting touching her cheek but also she doesn’t really know how to flirt and is getting all flustered but he enjoys watching her get flustered while there’s a crowd of people around them

oh i've had an idea about this brewing in my mind for a bit and i'm so glad that i can use you a catalyst to make it everyone else's problem <3 think of this as a part 2 to this drabble here

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, fluff and flirting, some tension, mentions of alcohol/club settings, reader is too shy for her own good lmao, short-ish drabble/oneshot

The very appearance of the building in front of you spoke volumes, warning you to turn around and run away while you still could. Dark, thumping music sounded more like an alarm than it did something to dance to, and the stench of alcohol was strong even from outside. To make things worse, you were very much out of your depth not only in location, but in the clothes you wore. Some short, scantily dress your friend insisted you borrow from her because a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt simply wouldn't do in a place as high profile as her husband's club. You tried to feel confident, or at least appear so. Tried to straighten your back and relax your face as if you were above everything in that building, but you were never very good at pretending.

However, nothing was worse than the fact Simon fucking Riley stood outside the door to greet the two of you. At first, you almost didn't recognize him with the face mask on and the long sleeves covering his tattoos, but you'd recognize those eyes of his anywhere. So dark in the dim lighting that attempted to illuminate the area outside of the club, you knew you would get lost in them if you stared at them too long.

"Evening, ladies," he greeted. His voice was all too familiar, and you tried not to think about how you still felt his breath on your ear when he taught you how to shoot pool.

"Riley," your friend whined, "don't tell me John sent you."

He crossed his arms over his chest, and you found yourself having to look away from how his biceps bulged with the movement. "Boss's orders."

"So much for girls night," she muttered.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he assured while his eyes flickered to you. "You won't even know I'm here."

And he was right. Mostly, anyway. Once he led the two of you into the building, up past the lower level and up into the elevated and sparsely dense VIP section of the bar, Simon had pretty much blended in with the shadows. You and your friend were unbothered while you enjoyed your free drinks (thanks to either John or Simon, you didn't know for sure) all while you tried to ignore the fact you were in your a place that utterly terrified you.

Of course, all good things had to come to an end. Eventually John emerged from somewhere in the mass of bodies that surrounded you, and your friend, who was more than a little tipsy by that point, hung off of his arm within an instant. And it was kind of cute, watching the way John rested his hands on her hips while she tried to make him dance with her. Yet, at the same time, you got secondhand embarrassment from it, so you averted your gaze as you looked down at the dance floor on the lower level. There were so many people packed together, jumping and dancing to the music, that it looked like a pulsing mass of flesh. The sight of it mixed with the alcohol in your stomach and you started to feel queasy.

"Wanna get some fresh air?"

You hadn't even realized Simon had walked up to you until he was right next to you, arms resting on the railing that separated you from becoming a messy stain on the lower level.

"Huh?" you asked, not because you hadn't heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.

Though his mouth was covered by that black medical mask, you could still see his smirk crinkle the corner of his eyes. Before he explained any further, his hand gently reached up where he grazed his thumb along the flesh of your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you found yourself utterly frozen by the gesture. You tried not to think about how warm his hand was on your skin, or how your stomach fluttered at his touch just like it had the last time his skin had grazed yours. As you tried to hold back a shiver, you silently prayed no one was looking at the two of you.

"Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time," he finally continued as he pulled his hand away from your face. He flicked his middle finger along the flesh of his thumb, as if he had taken something on your face and was getting rid of it, but since he didn't even bother to look at his hand before doing so, you couldn't help but wonder if there had even been something on your face to begin with.

God, it was fucking hot in that building, and the cool night air was a welcomed feeling on your exposed skin. Towards the back of the VIP section was the entrance to the terrace, where plenty of people still mingled about, but it was significantly more quiet than inside. Simon led you underneath the hanging lights over to a dark corner where the railing looked too sketchy to be safe or up to code.

"You smoke?" Simon asked as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. His fingers wrapped around the object with ease, and you swallowed hard as you shook your head.

"Good," he hummed as he removed his mask and lazily shoved it into his pocket, "don't start."

You didn't mean to stare, and you really hoped he didn't notice, but it was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from him. How could anyone expect you to when the cigarette sat so perfectly between his lips while he lit it? It only got worse when he held it limply between his fingers and exhaled the smoke out into the night air.

"You look good," he commented as he nodded his head at you.

"Oh, uhm," you muttered in surprise. You stared down at yourself and the obnoxiously sequined dress your friend insisted you wore and self consciously pulled at the skirt. "Thanks. I'm, uh, just borrowing the dress."

He hummed as he placed the cigarette between his lips again. "You'd still look good despite it."

This was strange. Something you weren't used to. Being complimented. Having someone look at you in a way that made your stomach churn, and it only got worse the longer you stood there speechless. And you tried to come up with a response, but the wider his smirk became, the harder it was for you to formulate a sentence.

And god, he wouldn't look away from you, like his eyes were stuck on you for the rest of eternity. Not even as he stepped closer to you. It felt like he was the sun, and the closer he got the warmer you felt until you were rendered breathless. He was so... close and just so... fuck. Fuck you wished he'd stop looking at you like that. Like he wanted to eat you alive, like he wanted to devour you, like-

"We should go back inside." The words left your mouth, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. It was all too much at once, between the crowd of people, how flustered this man made you; all of it was too much.

"Right," Simon hummed. "Should make sure Mrs. Price isn't getting in too much trouble," he teased.

Yet, neither of you moved. Simon raised the cigarette to his mouth again and took a long drag of it. Instead of turning his head to the side to exhale, he leaned his head back and let the smoke drift up and out of his mouth. And you were stunned, eyes locked on him as he did so, too captivated by the skin of his throat and the curve of his Adam's apple to look away. Then his head rolled back down where his eyes found you once again and his lips pulled into that signature smirk he could never seem to wipe off when he was around you.

He gestured towards the door that led back inside of the club as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette. "After you, sweetheart."

writing this gave me the worst thoughts ever. what if shy!reader is a virgin? someone needs to sedate me at this point. hope y'all enjoyed more of our boy :3

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mafia!ghost #mafia!simon #mafia!141 #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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samodivaa · 4 months

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Lust looks pretty on you

Bucky x Reader : One Bed Trope. But he is your crush and his body is too close. He can't tell that you are masturbating, right...?

Warnings - soft smut, masturbation Words - 2.5k AN - I want to make a filthy version as well, but this felt just right.

Somehow you cannot help being reminded of a him, you look at him with compassion, sometimes with sympathy—though suddenly in one instant he becomes, as though by chance, lovely and exquisite, you can’t comprehend the power of those pensive eyes flashing with such fire—between the shadow and your soul, you love him, feelings can’t be repressed. But sometimes his eyes, his soft features burn with anguish and you grieve, in silence, that his beauty fades—your eyelashes glisten with tears Bucky never knows of.

When he comes close to you, there is already a gleam of a smile on your lips, faintly blushing and looking down.

“There is a room, but it has only one bed” he says uneasily. “I am okay with that” you say with an indescribable gesture, a gravest face, but your heart begins throbbing. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and-” Bucky speaks timidly in an ingratiating voice. “I assure you” you say in a whisper, full of affection, eyes beaming with delight as you take his human hand.

Finishing your answer, you pause pathetically, because there is an intense desire to force yourself to laugh, already feeling that a malignant demon is stirring inside, making you imagine curtain scenarios and suddenly there is a lump in your throat. You are always so tender, so solicitous with him—your soul is full with loving sympathy. “I can sleep on the floor-” Bucky begins in a plaintive voice, in which there lies a hope, though a very faint one and bends his head. “No, I would never allow that” He is looking at you intently, while a strange curiosity gleams in yours. Bucky stops, with his mouth open, because he can’t speak for delight as you continue to hold his hand. Your lips are quivering and you try to say something as well, but can only convulsively squeeze Bucky's hand in silence. You continue to look affectionately at him as a smile passes over his lips. “Okay” he brings out at last.

When you enter the hotel room, you say tragically “Oh, the bed is small” Your eyes meet, he is gazing at you with a sort of wonder that evidently surprises you. Then, he tilts his head, his thin lips threatening to break into a smile

“But we will manage!”

You say briskly, quick to add to the previous statement, and, indeed, on the mad idea that flashes on your giddy brain—you will take a long shower in the hopes that he will fall asleep. That position is desperate, but you are hot with shame, because he keeps staring at you, grasping at once that you might be up to some mischief. Bucky always does that—studies every gesture, every movement you make, listens to every vibration of your rich voice, but strange to say, as the result of all his observations tonight, he feels, mixed with a sweet and timid impression, a feeling of intense curiosity. It seems as though he is on the verge of uncovering the mystery of your unusual behavior. But with your masterly acting, trying to keep you together, the whole process goes on in you unconsciously as you approach the other side of the bed in wide steps after having closed the door behind and sit on the mattress. You have purposely chosen this solitary spot, your eyes facing the wall. “You go shower first, I want to call my mom” Bucky grows suddenly confused, and a faint trace of vexation is betrayed in his impatient movement and he is glad that you can’t see it, but he remains quiet, in his heart there is a sort of haunting worry—are you scared of sleeping next to him? Is it because of his nightmares? He is irritated, boiling with indignation and hate, towards himself, for it is the first time that he has felt like that in your presence. Feelings so coarsely handle him—he is reminded of what he truly is.

The sound of running water echoes as he decides to go and turn the faucet on, adjusting it to a comforting warmth. Heaven. He winces as his back is met with hot water, swapping through his hair, through the curls and then running in streams down his shoulders, muscles protesting with each movement, but the warmth provides a reprieve from the ache that is a companion throughout the whole night. Bucky is analyzing the situation while he showers. His heart leaps and shudders when he exits the bathroom, but he is thankful that you are still talking on the phone so he lays on his side in despair and misery, hiding his face in the pillow, and is alternately feverish and shivery—he will make sure not to sleep, because his mind is too frightened by the the idea of scaring you with his nightmares, in his exhausted state all the emotions of the day come back to him in a rush. Whatever lies hidden in both your secret and behavior, he understands, but it causes moments of anguish of which he won’t forget. You longed to cheer him up, to relieve his anxiety if only by a glance, but when you see him sleeping, you tip-toe to the bathroom as Bucky lays with his eyes shut. When you come back into the room, his eyelashes quiver, but he controls himself and does not open his eyes. Was he that tired? When you begin pulling up the quilt over you, shame or some other feeling drowns him, wishing to hide from this moment, but he can’t fall asleep so he persisted in lying in bed in silence as you obstinately pull the blanket higher and higher.

A terrible, awful weakness overcomes your senses, you try to lay with your eyes closed, because desire is the kind of thing that eats you and leaves you starving and you can’t master your need for him—that realization leaves you rather embarrassed, and at once flush crimson. This feels all so humiliating, and then you make that blunder, a very important one—you think about pleasuring yourself. That’s just what makes you so ecstatic, that you have a presentiment.... and though it’s so dreadful, it’s all for the best. In fact, you believe nothing better could have happened, because this is once in a life's opportunity. Involuntarily, you find your eyes scouring the darkness, looking for the outline of his bulky body, but you can only feel the warmth radiating from it. You move your fingers slowly and strainedly, working your way down your torso and swallow when you reach your panties as your nipples harden, poking through your shirt. You swiftly pull your panties to the side, strings of your wetness part from your underwear and you realize—there is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. You breathe meekly and squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, because you hate the notion of being reduced to pleasuring yourself merely because of his close proximity, an embarrassing, desperate thing to do, but even so you keep on gently touching yourself.

You begin sliding your index finger between the folds of your entrance, it makes you shiver and your mouth slightly hangs open, heat rushing to your puffy cheeks, eyes halfway shut. The magic that coils through your own touch leaves you breathless, and your back arches a bit into the sensation as a strange euphoria. You struggle slightly to stay motionless, the other hand trails down to your breasts to squeeze them slightly, purposely avoiding your nipples for now. You use the gathered wetness and press your finger firmly against your clit, making your thighs twitch. A sinner who sins boldly—but that makes you freeze. And yes, you have a sordid soul in many ways, but on the contrary, it is full of a fine feeling—of love for him. You are anxious, worrying is using your imagination to create something you don't want —but what if that movement woke him up? What if he somehow knows?

You start to rub slow circles around your clit as you tilt your head to his side, taking a shallow breath in through your nose. You are so aware of your sin that you fully cherish it and your imagination is a wonderful thing, it allows for all manner of undiscoverable thoughts —will he rub your clit like that? Maybe he will eat you out and moan into your cunt as he devours it? The soft flesh of your inner thighs ripples just a little as your legs shake, even though you try to control it, your chest heaves up and down just by thinking about it. You knead violently at the flesh of your right breast, pinching and flicking at your own nipple as you stimulate yourself. Then something unexpected happens. He sneezes. “Sorry” he says quietly, distinctly. It feels like you are caught, tried, and condemned to death. “Bucky? Bless you” you talk with as much composure as you can. And he was not supposed to hear, because It's a horribly private moment, a vulnerable moment on your part and he should be sleeping.

“Are you—” begins Bucky, but pauses in confusion. “No-” you interrupt suddenly, with a look of weariness, focusing on your lungs, on your ability to take a deep breath, to soothe with oxygen as the word rolls off your tongue while a deep blush suffuses your face. “Because I am” He is jerking off—? Well he was sliding across the painfully erect cock slowly through the fabric, making sure he didn't cum. His tone is so natural and respectful that you can't possibly suspect him of any insincerity. He feels instinctively that some such well-sounding humbug, brought out by him, will soothe your worries, and will be specially acceptable to you in such a delicate position. It is clear from his radiant face that he considers his words for the right ones in this moment, despite you not seeing his features in the darkness. Bucky gets up on his elbows, there is no glamor, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his lust takes over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive need, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state. His hard dick twitches and arousal trickles down his spine, because of his own confession. You feel him shift on the bed and he turns on the light on his nightstand.

His eyes narrow until they have faint darkish glitter. You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as he stares at your face, his consciousness already vanishing and deforms itself in something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze.

You have curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes, eyes that are very pretty and very nice, he loves when you turn to stare at his blue orbits—but you are fantasizing right now—which is utterly inappropriate for the part of your mind which wants to just hug Bucky all day long. “Were you thinking about me?” He asks innocently as he shamelessly stares—swallowing you whole. Slowly, you nod. He pushes off the blanket and your gaze drops to the outline of his cock, pushing up his heart into his throat—your breathing is eager and exciting—lips are faintly chapple, but soft in the corners.

And then, his hot mouth is breathing into your ear and before you can even blink, he is on top of you, lips ghost over your earlobe. His hot mouth is breathing into your skin, your chest is pressed against his and he can feel the swell of your breasts through your shirt. You gasp as you feel his broad chest and toned abdomen holding you down as the hard bulge in his boxers rubs deliciously against your clothed pussy lips. For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary—he kisses your neck, lips, cheeks, worships your skin, because holding you in his arms is more natural to him than his own heartbeat. He doesn't want just sex—he seeks passion. “Bucky-”

You keen between short breaths, between his gentle kisses as your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck. He rips your panties down with his metal hand and then reaches into his own to help his cock spring free. Drop of precum lands on your abdomen as he runs his thumb over the veins that run along the underside, barely audible as he drags his fingers across his tip, gathering the wetness before moving his fingers in front of your face. He gently rubs your lower lip, a finger working its way inside of your mouth, pressing on your tongue, eliciting a gag before removing it completely. “God, baby girl” he growls in your ear as his fingers brush up your soaking cunt “You look so innocent yet you were mastrubating right next to me” he goes on as he runs the tip of his finger back and forth, collecting your slick. Your eyes are pinched shut, lips parted ever so slightly, panting softly, a rosy flush coloring your cheeks. If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, of his words, the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be—you are shameless, he thinks, swallowing the guttural groan that escapes him. You moan when he puts his fingers in his mouth, feverishly licking them, tasting you.

He is eagerly holding up his cock then he lines up your hole, he thrusts his hips forward, his cock pressing into your front, earning a squeal from you as he runs back and forth dragging his length across your opening and then slowly plunges into you. It is a slow, torturous process as your cunt stretches around him, accommodating his girth. Love is something he wants to nurture and grow, a connection that exists within each one of you—he has not missed a single one of your gestures, not one of the indications of your body and now it occurs to him that your eyes themselves have the color of love, they speak the language of both emotions and pleasure.

He breaks the intense eye contact to attack your neck, sucking and lightly biting on your weakest spot. Never have you been more aroused than, more needy as you continue to be relished by him by cock inside of you. "You are so bold sometimes. It's why I love you" he smiles against your hot skin, wondering how on earth he'd been lucky enough to find you. Whiny, stranded pleads leave your lips. His words are so sweet in comparison to the filthy trusts. His lips find yours as he feels you getting closer and he pushes you farther to the edge as he begins to fondle with your clit, your breathing becomes more labored. He keeps circling his finger in just the way that you love it and you can feel the beginning of the orgasm, sending your body into a wave of pleasure. You clenching around him—shuddering against him, as an orgasm washes over his own body. Bucky lose himself in your eyes—in the vocabulary of them as the pleasure goes through your body. The words became unnecessary. He made you feel loved.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #one bed trope

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wineauntie · 2 months

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THOSE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS – Luke Hughes x fem!reader (smut)

summary: those nights where you can’t sleep are the worst, but luckily Luke has the perfect remedy.

note: oh good lord, I low-key really like this, I can’t lie 🫣 there’s something about sleepy smut I love :)

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, MDNI 18+, fem!reader, smut, fingering, f receiving, p in v, no protection, cockwarming, praise, little tidbit of aftercare. Use of nicknames: pretty girl, sweet girl and baby. Also Luke has a dirty mouth fr.

word count: 1.5k+

You couldn't sleep.

You had gone to bed hours ago, wrapped in Luke's reassuring embrace, ready to be completely enveloped by the tranquil embrace of the night, yet as your boyfriend slowly drifted off, all sleep seemed to evade you.

The soft hum of the ceiling fan filled the room, its gentle breeze stirring the curtains and casting shifting shadows across the walls. The moon bathed the room in a silvery glow, as your eyes traversed the bedroom in discontent.

Despite the serenity of your surroundings, sleep remained a distant dream. Tossing and turning, you sighed, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and worries. The events of the day replayed in your mind like a broken record, each moment dissected and analyzed until they lost all meaning.

You got like this sometimes.

The days when your brain refused to shut off and cooperate, instead choosing to torment you and test your patience.

You let out a frustrated and defeated whine as you again turned away from Luke, trying desperately to find any comfort and relaxation. Beside you, your boyfriend shifted closer to you, his arm snaking under your waist, pulling you back into the warmth of his embrace. You flinched from his sudden movement before you burrowed closer into him, seeking solace in his touch.

"Can't sleep?" Luke's sleepy voice was a soft murmur, his breath warm against your ear. You weren't even sure if he had opened his eyes. You let out a small hum as you nodded, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his arm as he held you closer.

"Yeah, my mind won't quiet down," you confessed, your voice croaked barely above a whisper. Luke pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of your ear, his other arm moving from behind his head to around your lower stomach. "I'm sorry for waking you."

Luke hummed, his fingers lingering along the hem of your panties, which were barely concealed by one of his t-shirts that had ridden up as you'd struggled to fall asleep.

"I can try to help?" He murmured against your skin, pressing more languid kisses to your neck, his fingers stretching over the top half of your panties. You leaned into his touch with a small whine, as he let out a low chuckle, holding you closer to his chest, pressing your ass against his thickening cock.

You mewled as his fingers dipped beneath the fabric, brushing against your folds, and spreading your growing wetness. You pushed further against him, his cock firm against your barely clothed behind. Luke let out a deep breathy laugh as eased two fingers into you, his mouth fixated on the skin behind your ear, stuttered gasps escaped your lips as he moved his fingers in and out. The length of his fingers brushed against your soft walls whilst your body melted against his strong hold.

Your body shook in his hold, your head thrown back in exhausted pleasure. You had found yourself lost to the intoxicating pull of lust that lured you deeper into a desire that knew no bounds. Luke suckled at the skin of your neck, leaving behind purpling bruises in his wake.

"This was all you needed, huh?" Luke murmured, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks. "Needed your little pussy tired out." You moaned in protest as he pulled his fingers out, circling your clit. "You always take my fingers so well." He praised, his eyes focused on your blissed face. Your hips bucked towards his fingers with a shameless moan, as you tried to feel as much of him as he was letting you. You whined in desperation as Luke lifted his fingers and raised them to his lips, groaning as he tasted your juices.

"Taste so good, sweet girl," he mumbled whilst you turned your head to face Luke, who adorned half-lidded eyes dusted with the deepest carnality. He leaned forward and captured your lips as you ground backwards against his cock, fidgeting in need as Luke plunged his tongue into your mouth, his hand reaching to cup your face.

You panted into the kiss, writhing with need as you turned around, your hands reaching downward to pull at Luke's boxers. His grip tightened on you, as he shifted to allow you to move the fabric down. He pulled away from your lips briefly, his hand guiding yours back up, leaving them to link around his neck.

You allowed your fingers to sift through the curls at the base of his neck as he pushed your panties aside. You whimpered against Luke's parted lips causing him to let out a quiet hum as his nose brushed against yours.

"You gonna take me, sweet girl?" He murmured against your lips as your fingers locked behind his neck. You felt his cock brush against where you needed him most, his hand opening up your thighs, lifting on to rest atop his hip.

"Please, Luke," you begged, the lustful heat swirling around the room and engulfing your body as you bucked towards him. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he slowly positioned himself at your entrance, one hand gripping your thigh and the other guiding his cock.

"Atta girl," he soothed, watching you carefully as he slowly stretched you out, your face scrunched in pleasure.

"Luke, please," you rasped, clinging to your boyfriend. You gripped his curls as he emitted a low groan, thrusting into you as you arched toward him.

"My greedy girl," he hummed, his hand digging into your thigh to hold your leg tighter as he thrust into you in shallow thrusts. Your head dropped backwards, letting out a string of lewd moans as you felt him throb within you. "Just needed a good fuck, hm?" You careened at his words, your sweat-beaded forehead pressing against his.

"Luke," you gasped, as he continued to pump inside of you, his tiredness lost amongst the vigour. You could feel the bubble of pressure in your core growing by the second, your need to be closer to Luke being satisfied as he dragged your chest forward so that you were tighter in his hold.

"I know, baby," he groaned as you grasped at his shoulders for some form of stability. "I can feel you coming all undone for me."

You're breathing stuttered as you clung to Luke, his sharp movements hitting all the areas you needed to feel him the most. The pressure in your stomach had grown significantly as he plunged in and out of you in a rhythm you had come to learn. A rhythm that you knew would bring you toppling over the edge of satisfaction.

"N-Need to come," you stammered, every single nerve ending in your body had been lit alight, ready to explode into a raging inferno. Luke's eyes darkened upon your words as he began to thrust deep into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You felt his hips slap against yours as he relentlessly pushed into you, filling you up with ease. You couldn’t even bring yourself to emit any more words while his wildfire touch, ignited your skin with a fervent passion that consumed your senses. With every breath, you could feel the electric pulse of desire coursing through your veins, drawing you irresistibly closer to him. Entwined beneath the moonlit canopy of your shared desire, your bodies moved in a symphony of longing and release with each movement sending cascades of spine-numbing pleasure through you as jolted with each plunge.

"Come," Luke spoke, his voice instantaneously releasing the pressure that had grown in your core as you came hard around his cock. Your body writhed in pleasure as waves of aftershocks wracked your being. Luke, who had been teetering along the edge of his own release, spilt into you, keeping his thrusts shallow as he filled you to the brim.

Your body felt boneless whilst you sunk into Luke's weight and the bed beneath you. He held you to his chest as the sound of both of your heavy breathing filled the room. You could feel Luke shift your positioning slightly so that you were completely lying atop his chest, his cock still buried inside of you. His hand gently stroked over your mussed hair, brushing it back out of the way as he pressed soft kisses along your hairline.

"Did so good, sweet girl," he muttered, his voice breaking with a yawn. You couldn't bring yourself to respond, opting to sink deeper into his warm embrace. He raised his hand, cradling your jaw as he looked down at you. His eyes were decorated with grey bags beneath them, but the affection in them wiped away any semblance of guilt you felt about keeping him awake. "C'mon, we gotta clean you up."

"No," your voice was broken with tiredness as exhaustion began to claim you as its own. You nestled your head into his chest, your nose brushing against his damp skin. "Can we please just...stay like this?"

There was a slight pause as Luke's hand faltered in its movements before he resumed his comforting motion. He pressed another light kiss to your face, before settling back into his pillow, one hand continuing its soothing stroking whilst the other curled around your waist.

"We can stay as long as you want, sweet girl," he mumbled. You let out a small breath and nodded against his torso, your exhaustion dragging you into a serene lull between sleep and reality. "Try to get some sleep, love you."

"Love you, Luke," you sighed happily, snuggling deep into your boyfriend, as his cock softened inside of you, grounding you to him as sleep finally graced you with its presence and allowed you to slip further and further until all you could feel and hear was Luke and his sweet nothings before the world faded completely.

#nhl x reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes smut #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes fanfic #wineauntie #nj devils #hockey smut #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes oneshot #luke hughes #hughes brothers fanfiction

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m00nlight-ramblings · 5 months

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Eat Your Young

Astarion and Tav take advantage of the rainy weather in camp. Pure smut, no plot.

Pairings: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, swearing. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Listen, usually I like a lil plot but Astarion sometimes deserves just some good ole smut, right?! Also inspired by the Hozier song, "Eat Your Young"

REMINDER: my inbox is open for requests!

Astarion's hand roughly ran down your neck, the candles in his tent casting shadows over the space. He hissed in pleasure as his fingers gracefully found your collarbone, his nails tickling the skin around your neck. You groaned, your eyes fluttering closed.

"This is not what I came in here for." You said, even though you knew that was a lie.

Well, partly.

Basically since the beginning of your adventure with the companions, you and Astarion had found yourselves drawn to each other. First as friends, but then quickly into a sexual situation. A way to satiate yourselves, and to have a bit of shining light in the darkness that was all the doom and gloom and battle and blood.

"Oh?" Astarion asked, his mouth dangerously close to your neck, "And what did you actually come in here for?" His voice was melodic, almost a purr. You felt his fangs lightly drag across your neck - enough to leave a scratch, but not enough to break skin. You gasped.

"F-for the book," You were able to choke out, one of your hands finding his hair. You ran your fingers through his locks, earning a quick moan from Astarion, "The book I lent you last week. I know you're done reading it, so-"

"You came all the way across camp in a rain storm for a book you could easily get from me tomorrow?" He pulled away, his eyes twinkling. It was bullshit, and he knew it. "Is that why both of our clothes are off, and were discarded on the floor within 45 seconds of you coming into my tent, my pet?"

"Um..." You bit your lip and both of you smiled, "I'm easily distracted." You tried to argue, but Astarion's lips were on you again, his tongue quickly finding yours. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed his body on yours, his erection pressing into your stomach. Thunder clapped outside, causing you to jump, which caused Astarion to wrap his arm around your back tighter, bringing you closer.

"What do you want, my darling? Tell me," He pulled away from your mouth, but his lips were still touching yours. Your heart pounded in your chest from his breath on your face, "Tell me what you want." His voice was velvet smooth, causing your stomach to clench. You groaned, unable to stop yourself - how did this fucking man know exactly what to say, and exactly what to do to get you going?

"I want your cock in my mouth," You said quickly, it coming out as one breath. His eyebrows raised and he smirked, wordlessly pushing himself to the edge of the bed to give you space. Looking down at his erection, you felt a wave of heat rush to your clit, unable to contain yourself.

Before he could even lay down, your mouth was on his cock hungrily. He moaned in surprise, his voice echoing off the tent walls. Immediately your mouth filled with spit as you worked on his thick member, using your tongue the exact way you knew he loved. His hands found their way into your hair and pulled, causing you to grip the blankets underneath your hands.

"Hells, you're so fucking good," Astarion grumbled, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, "Deeper." He commanded.

You made your way fully down on his member, causing his hips to buck in your mouth. You felt your eyes water a bit, and pulled up, taking your mouth completely off of his cock. "Does that feel good?" You toyed, pumping him in your hand. He moved his head back to look at you, his eyes a deep red. You watched the end of his mouth turn up in the shadow of a smile.

Suddenly, the rain started to beat harder against the tent walls.

In one swift movement, Astarion's hand grabbed your chin, pull you on top of him. His member, slick with your spit and precum, slid against your body, causing you to gasp. He looked between your eyes before hungrily crashing his lips against yours again, this time pulling your hair roughly.

"Not as good as it'll feel when I'm inside of you." He said in your ear, before biting your lobe. You moaned loudly, the noise getting lost in the rain.

"Then fuck me."

"Say please."

"Please, Astarion! I need you."

"You need me to what?"

"To fuck me. I need your dick inside of me." You reached down to his cock and started to pump him again, causing Astarion to erupt a small moan from his lips. He looked into your eyes one final time before he flipped you below him.

"On your stomach." He said, waiting patiently. He was sitting high up on his knees, looking down on you. Now, his cock was in his own hand and he stroked it slowly, taking the full length of his member in his palm. He didn't break eye contact as you got on your belly. Soon, you felt him spread your legs gently, and his body weight pressed on top of you.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, you'll be screaming to the gods by the end of it." He murmured in your ear. You shuddered at his voice, and soon you felt him lining himself up at your entrance.

"Oh, Astarion..." You breathe, your thoughts becoming a jumbled mess. You heard him chuckle before he continued on.

"Are you ready?" He asked. You felt like you couldn't speak, your stomach was so clenched in anticipation. You nodded, and almost instantly his cock was deep inside of you, sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body. You called out, lifting your head. As you lifted your head, Astarion took hold of your hair and pulled.

"Gods, you are so fucking tight." He groaned, every word accentuated by a thrust inside of you. You clapped you hand over your mouth so you wouldn't cry out, but he pulled it away, "Don't. I want everyone to hear."

"Fuck, Astarion!" You called out, his hands finding your hips for better leverage. You felt a heat start to rise within you, causing you to breath harder. "Don't stop! Right there-"

"Right there?" He purred, his voice teasing, "Right there and I'm going to make my good girl come?"

"Yes!" You moaned, his voice ripping through you, "Yes right there and I'm going to come. Don't stop!"

The sound of his cock pounding into you filled the tent as your mind became foggy. The pleasure started to soften the sides of your vision as Astarion gripped your hips, definitely leaving marks for tomorrow. As your words turned into incoherent noises, you felt Astarion thrust into you harder, making sure you felt filled.

"Show me you're a good girl," He murmured, his voice steady; in control. As Astarion often was - in control. It drove you crazy, usually the catalyst in tipping you over the edge. "Be my good girl and come for me."

Finally, you felt yourself spill over him as you cried out his name - the heat rose completely in you and for a moment, Astarion stopped thrusting in you, taking his hands and wrapping them around your waist, so that he could feel your orgasm completely. With your head so close to his, he whispered words of praise in your ear - "Good girl. That's it - come for me. Let me feel it. Give me all of it."

You panted, your thoughts finally starting to align again. As you regained control of your body, Astarion gently flipped you over. Spreading your legs open, he entered you again slowly, earning a whimper from you. Two thrusts in and he caused you to throw your head back, crying his name.

"That's it - that's my girl," He hissed, speeding his thrusts up slowly, "Let me see that pretty face, darling. Your pretty face is going to make me come."

"Astarion, FUCK. You feel so good!" You couldn't help yourself as he started again, one of his hands finding it's way to your erect nipples. He pinched and palmed your tits as they bounced with every thrust - the sight of your body bouncing, and your face calling his name, he wasn't far behind you with an orgasm. But, he wanted it to last...

He wanted to wear you out.

It was always so sexy seeing you struggle in the following days, knowing that he alone was the cause.

"Your cock...feels so good..." You panted, your hands finding their way to his shoulder blades. Thunder clapped again, drowning out the scream you cried as Astarion hit your spot. Once he realized how crazy he was driving you, he smiled.

"All for you," He grunted, "This cock is all for you." Sweat beaded at his temples as he stared into your eyes. They were dark, hungry - he started to get the glint in his eyes that he would before he was sent over the edge.

Astarion pounded into so hard that the bed groaned under the pressure. You could feel Astarion's body start to tense above you, so you gripped Astarion's ass, pushing him deeper into you.

The extra effort made you start to see stars, and Astarion was on the same page; "I'm close," He grunted, touching his forehead to yours, "Hells, you're going to make me come."

"Come for me," You breathed, placing a sloppy, rough kiss on his lips, "Come for me."

Suddenly, Astarion called out your name, and you felt him spill into you. The tension in his body reached his climax and gradually released, his body laying completely on top of you.

The only noise in the tent - besides the pounding rain - was your and Astarion's breathing. The shallow, quick breaths turned into deeper, heftier breaths and you regained your composure, the heating slowly leaving your body.

"Gods, you're beautiful." Astarion murmured, brushing your sweaty hair behind your ear gently. He delicately placed a kiss on your lips as he slid down to your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you tight. You sighed contently, running a hand over his side and snuggling your head closer into his shoulder. A moment of silence passed before you spoke.

"I did actually come here for that book, you know." You teased, causing him to chuckle.

"Oh? Would you like me to go get it for you then?" He asked, pretending to get out of bed. You giggled and gently pushed him back down.

"Shut up," You playfully scolded him, "I just wanted to let you know that I didn't just come here to seduce you."

"But darling, it's so much fun getting seduced by you." He looked at you and smirked, his eyes sparkling. You rolled your eyes and placed a kiss on his mouth.

"Well...I guess I'll have to let you borrow my books more often, then."

------

My first time doing smut with no plot - I'm gonna be honest, I don't know how I feel about it yet! What did you all think?

Just a reminder: my inbox is open for requestions!

#astarion bg3 #bg3 #astarion headcanon #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion fan fiction #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #baldurs gate 3 #astarion one shot #astarion oneshot

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pellucid-constellations · 4 days

Text

If It All Fell (6)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst, PINING

a/n: Sorryyyy for the wait <3 As a lot of you know I have been going through it lately, but I really enjoyed writing this and hope to post more immediately 🤜. Let me know what you think :))

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ✶ Part 4☼ Part 5 ☁

Series Masterlist

Day Court was immeasurably beautiful—with all of its pristine columns reflecting orange light. Marble flooring shone with distorted images of acrylic brush strokes that hung on granite walls. Fountains billowed at the mouth of every doorway, sculpted fixtures at their bases. Warm wind kissed your skin and glistening waters welcomed you and Day Court was so incredibly beautiful.

You were sure, if given the chance, you would think the same of its residents.

Unfortunately, you were not given the chance to come to that conclusion.

“The High Lord is in a meeting. He sends his apologies for not meeting you upon your arrival—the merchants of Day can get a bit rowdy,” the servant laughed. “I can show you to your rooms in the meantime.”

“Rooms?” Rhysand posed. You attempted to look over Azriel’s wing to gauge the conversation, but Cassian took another step to the side, halting your movement.

“Yes, Helion informed us that the four of you would be here, so we prepared four rooms. If that’s not—”

“Three rooms will suffice, thank you,” your High Lord drawled.

The servant squeaked, and you were sure if you could see her, her nerves would be evident. “Of—of course, High Lord. I assume Lady Y/n will be with—”

“We will deal with the division of our rooms on our own. Thank you…”

“Amira,” the servant offered. “My name is Amira. I will be attending to you, Lady Y/n, during your time here.”

You knocked your head to the side, brushing Cassian’s bicep as he stood beside you. You barely caught Amira’s mousey brown hair before the membrane of a wing flushed out and pushed you back.

“She doesn’t need an attendant,” Azriel bit out, misplaced malice creating tension in the hall.

“Oh, it’s okay, I—”

Apparently, not even your voice was allowed to be heard. Rhysand cut you off. “No attendant,” he confirmed, after sending his spymaster a sidelong glance laced with reproach. “No servants in our rooms, either. We are rather private, you understand.”

A pause.

You wished you could see anyone’s expression.

From beside you, Cassian offered you a pity smile, nudging you with his elbow in an act of comfort.

“Anything you require,” Amira shakily responded. “Shall I walk you back, then? Just to show you where you will be staying?”

“Lead the way.”

Azriel immediately stepped back, his shadows scrambling past him to enclose you in dim light. You felt his presence, firm and tall, looming at your back as you took the first few steps down the hall.

This all felt entirely misplaced, with the bleakness of your group extinguishing some of the vibrance of the court you walked through. Cassian kept close to your side, some of Azriel’s shadows drifting off and cloaking the red glow on his hands and chest. Rhys, ever the High Lord, took up the front, footsteps light but purposeful.

Everyone looked grim.

Except for you.

This court held no negative connotations for you, no malicious undertones that impacted the rest of your family. It was simply beautiful, and your family was simply cloistering you.

But you agreed to this; anything to make them feel better.

To make Azriel feel better.

You turned your head to the side as you walked, catching the shadowsinger in your peripheral. Tense, on-guard, unyielding; Azriel’s jaw was set in a firm clench, but it was different from what you were used to. When he was tense at home, it was almost out of… anticipation? Trepidation?

Here though… here his posture was derived from rage. From practiced, honed fury.

You turned your head away before you attempted to fix it, to comfort him. He wanted to be angry, told you as much before he winnowed you to Day in a flurry of his shadows.

I’m going to be different, he had told you, I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt.

The fear in his eyes had melted away in the Day Court sun; the second your feet landed on meticulously carved cobblestone, Azriel was no longer just your friend.

Amira led you to three doors along a wall, mumbled a few parting words, and bowed away before anyone could send her a second glance. You attempted to offer her a reassuring smile amidst her flee, but Azriel’s shadows were too dense. A hand on your back led you into a room and Amira was gone.

“That went well,” Cassian breathed, a long sigh punctuating his descent into a loveseat by the bed. “She didn’t look terrified at all.”

The bedroom door clicked shut. Rhys raised his brows. “She’ll thank us later.” The High Lord’s eyes drifted to the shadowsinger sulking by your side. “This isn’t exactly a leisurely visit.”

Your gaze shot around the room in the following lapse of silence, analyzing the tense nature of each male. The air felt stagnant and stiff, the light somehow dimmer even with the open windows, and you weren’t sure if your voice would make it worse or ease some of the pressing emotions.

Rhys took a seat in a chair by the door, and you decided speaking was better than leaning into the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you began, playing with your fingers, second-guessing your decision to stand. Azriel remained motionless at your side. “The sun feels different somehow. Brighter, maybe?”

“The skies have an affinity for their namesake in the solar courts,” Rhys offered kindly.

You hummed, rolling onto your toes and then rocking back on your heels. “I suppose that makes sense. The nights are incredible back home.”

The use of that word—home—did not go unnoticed by the group. Not by you and certainly not by the male standing guard at your side. The replacement of the word had been relatively common since you woke up.

Here in Velaris, there is….

When you came back here all those years ago…

Let’s go back to the house…

Never home.

But being in Day—being away from Velaris—just solidified what you already assumed. Velaris was your home. You were sick of letting your family dance around that truth.

“Mother above, I was sure I would never see you again,” a strange voice tore your attention from Cassian’s vivid retelling of your first time flying with him, and although it was an interesting story, the man before you was even more enticing.

With deep skin and an even deeper smile, white linen billowed around his confident figure. The man appeared to glisten as he walked toward your small group, golden sandals trailing up bronze calves. Even the air around him seemed to glow.

Enticing didn’t seem to be the correct word.

You’d been directed into a rather large study after a brief lunch and a “tour” of the grounds that only included the wing you were staying in. Rhys had chalked it up to Helion stalling for time. You’d tried to coax a more comprehensive tour out of the guard leading you around, but a sharp look from Azriel was enough to put that conversation to rest.

“You look just as you did. Perhaps a bit gaunt but…” The man—Helion, you’d deduced—trailed off when the whisper of a shadow trailed at his neck. “I am Helion,” he smiled. “You have known me for many years. In love with me, as most are. But, alas, it is not fated.”

Some of your awe shifted to shock. “I am—I’m sorry, I am in love with you?”

In front of you, Cassian let out a long breath and fanned his wings out before letting them hang behind his chair. You sat straighter in your own seat, mortification creeping into your chest at the small laugh Rhys let slip across the room. What set your mouth into its flurry, however, was the raised brow you received from Helion.

“I didn’t mean that to offend. I mean—what I meant was just that… Well, no one said I had a lover or even mentioned you in that way so it came as a shock. But I presume there is much about myself I have yet to learn so… you are a very beautiful man and I’m sure—”

“Y/n, it’s alright,” came Azriel’s soothing voice from beside you, his scarred fingers pushing hair behind your ear halting your apologies. “He was only joking.” A pointed look in the High Lord’s direction. “He does that from time to time, unfortunately.”

More mortification made an appearance.

“Oh.”

Helion’s raised brow had morphed into an unsure expression at some point amidst your rambling. “When they said you had no memory… You will have to excuse me, y/n. I assumed you’d have more… context. Especially with your abilities.”

“We told you she remembered nothing and had no access to her magic,” Azriel defended, his fingers dropping to rest beside your thighs.

“Well, yes, but often when magic tampers with the mind, the personality remains intact. Like a muscle memory.”

“Oh, her personality is there,” Cassian retorted, a bittersweet smirk playing at his lips. “Just not when she’s met you five seconds ago and you’re revealing fake truths. Sarcasm doesn’t often work with strangers.”

Helion nodded grimly, turning back to you. “I apologize.”

“It’s really alright,” you comforted, attempting to calm some of the twisted guilt marring the High Lord’s face. “They worry too much. Right now everything I do is without context and I find myself embarrassed more often than not. It’s not your fault.”

Helion did not look convinced or reassured. His eyes simply traveled to the corners of your face and tracked down to the patterns Azriel was drawing into the skirts of your dress.

“Do you see now why we needed to come to you,” Rhys chimed in from above his crossed arms.

Helion hummed. “Yes. Shall I get started then?”

The room shuffled. You were informed that Helion had to be touching your head to assess the injury—unlike Rhys’s assessment—so you were sat atop a table to give him better access. Azriel followed by your side, his front pressed against the table, Cassian stood his ground behind Helion, and Rhys took up residence on your other side.

“In Day, we have a type of healing that extends to magical wards and enchantments, was that explained to you?” Helion asked, kind eyes never leaving yours. Too kind—uncertain and full of reproach.

“Yes, they said maybe the witch put something in my mind. Like a blockage.”

“Precisely. And I was informed about Rhysand’s unsuccessful attempt at entering your mind. That could be due to a spell, which is why I would be more useful.”

Rhys scoffed.

You let a smile tug at your lips, but it was quickly extinguished when you considered the outcome of this process. “Will it feel the same? What you’re doing and what Rhys did?”

You could almost hear the way Azriel ground his jaw.

Helion glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “It will feel different. I am not in the business of thoughts or memories. I won’t be able to access anything other than any inflictions you may have.”

“So it won’t hurt?”

“I cannot promise anything.”

The table beneath you shifted an inch, just to be caught by hands glowing with blue light.

I need to be different. It can’t be like the last time. I can’t let you get hurt.

“Still sure you can’t just beat the crap out of whatever’s going on in my head?” you posed to Cassian, tilting your head up to call over Helion’s shoulder.

The general’s chuckle eased some of the tension in the room. “I would if I could.”

“Promise?”

“Always.”

With a resigned breath, you nodded to Helion. The High Lord’s hands glowed a golden white, he lifted them to your head, and then there was nothing.

Azriel

If he hadn’t shot his hand out when he did, Azriel was sure your head would have fallen out of Helion’s grasp and plummeted to the floor.

You were limp.

Eyes closed, neck bent—completely and utterly limp.

Azriel took the liberty of tugging on the bond just to make sure you were still alive. He hadn’t done so since you woke up in the forest, remembering the fear in your eyes, but you looked so incredibly lifeless.

“Helion,” he barked, his worried expression never turning from your face.

Icy panic gripped his stomach, twisting it with fervor.

Cassian took a step forward.

“Why is she unconscious?” his brother gritted out. His tone was an empty threat; he couldn’t hurt a High Lord, and neither could Azriel, but Azriel would do much more for much less.

His life had become a nightmare.

Literally.

On his worst nights, he relived the time you went missing and the subsequent loss of your memories over and over until he woke up screaming. His heart would beat so rapidly it seemed impossible to slow and he would be inconsolable for several minutes, but he always had you there. He would wake up from that nightmare and you would be there.

He had that dream every night now, and he woke up to the same. The guestroom he occupied didn’t smell like you, and even though you were just on the other side of the wall, he couldn’t make out the sound of your breath enough to let it lull him back to sleep. Nothing you owned was in that room. Everything he owned was still in a pile by the door after Feyre had rushed to clear the evidence of him from your space. But why did that matter? What were books and trinkets and clothes in a room that was otherwise devoid of everything he loved?

Leaving his room was worse.

Gods, all he wanted to do was hold you. To really, truly hold you and for you to hold him back. But you looked at him cordially, the same way you looked at Cassian and Rhysand and Mor.

When he left the house he had to deal with Feyre and Nesta’s constant questioning. Even Amren had taken an interest in your well-being, and while he appreciated the care for his mate, he couldn’t take it.

He couldn’t take echoing the words, “She’s fine. Healthy. Less pain today,” over and over when he could tell what they really wanted to know were things you wouldn’t share with him. He couldn’t take the fact that you didn’t tell him you loved him—that he would whisper it at your back every time you turned around and you never heard. You were skittish at his touch and shy when you spoke and you were never the first to voice your opinion and he just couldn’t take it.

With your head in his broken hand, Azriel felt another piece of him crack.

“I did it.” Rhys broke the silence, a concentration twisting his brow. “Helion and I agreed it was the best way to go about this. It had to be sudden though—unexpected. We needed a moment where her mind was completely unexpecting.”

Cassian cursed. “You couldn’t have told us that before you made it look like she died, Rhysand?”

“If y/n were dead no one would be standing here right now and you know that.”

“Still,” Cassian mumbled. “Warn a guy.”

“I’ve felt this before,” Helion said, shaking his head. “But that’s impossible. Rhysand, you would have—”

“I would have, yes, but not if it was created through other means. It was a witch, not a daemati.”

“She could have been both.”

“Extremely unlikely. Keep going.”

Azriel watched the way your lashes fluttered, counted the beats of your heart and pretended you knew who he was.

“What’s happening?” he asked. “You’re both in her head. Talk.”

“I couldn’t get through the wall myself because it wasn’t her magic,” Rhys explained. “I assumed it was the witch’s, but this signature is too similar. It’s exactly like it was before, just muted.”

“Like it was before?” Azriel repeated, finally turning his head up.

Rhysand looked grim. “Almost identical.”

“That isn’t possible,” the shadowsinger immediately refuted. “I killed that bastard myself. There is no way he could have done anything to her.”

“Azriel, I think it’s possible that—”

But Azriel did not let the High Lord of Day finish his thought. “You don’t speak to me about her,” he seethed. “Not when she came to your court and one of your people did this to her. I trusted you with her. I sent my mate here and she has been paying the price for that ever since. This is your fault, so you do not tell me what you think. You tell me what is certain.”

The room went silent, and Helion looked back at you, eyes glazing as he continued his work.

A strong, steady hand clapped against Azriel’s shoulder. It took Cassian three tugs before Azriel reluctantly let your head go, but only after Rhysand placed his own hand at your back.

“Look, I get it,” Cassian comforted, hands on his brother's arms. “If this was Nesta I’d probably be tearing this room apart right now. But he’s all we have here. And you know it wasn’t his fault last time. You remember how hard he worked to get her back.”

Azriel ignored him.

Cassian roughly shook his frame.

“Hey, you know that. And you know y/n’s going to be pissed at you when she gets her memories back and hears how much of an ass you’re being to Helion. She’s going to be severely pissed if you start a war trying to kill the guy.”

“If.”

The small smile Cassian was sporting faltered. “What?”

Azriel finally met his eyes. “If she gets her memories back. It was an if last time and it’s an if again.”

The two High Lords discussed quietly in the back, their hands still on you. Azriel’s shadows refused to leave your side, weaving through your hair and your clothes and the fingers against your head.

“Well last time she got them back, didn’t she?”

“You truly believe that will happen twice? I was praying to the mother for luck the first time, Cassian. She won’t listen again. I guarantee she won’t.”

“Az…” Cassian trailed off. There was no speech to formulate, not when defeat and resolution were so clear on his brother’s face.

“She won’t love me a third time.”

Your cough had Azriel bolting away from his brother’s concerned gaze in an instant. You were no longer in Helion’s grasp, instead leaning against Rhysand’s arm as the High Lord of Day scribbled something in a book.

“Ow.” You rubbed at your head with a pinched expression, squinting up at Azriel as he leaned down. “I think I passed out or something.”

It was mostly out of hysterics, but a small laugh escaped the spymaster. “Or something.”

Gods, you sent a spark of joy down the bond and it was all-consuming. You did that from time to time, unintentionally flooding Azriel with whatever emotion you felt the strongest. More than once he had to stop himself from opening his side completely just to relish in the reminisce you offered him.

“What about this time? Did we figure it out?” you slurred, squeezing your eyes open just to have the drop closed once again.

Azriel tucked his hand against the back of your head and looked expectantly at the two High Lords before him.

When Helion spoke, Azriel let him, if only because he was still living on the high of his mate’s lingering amusement. “Whatever the witch did, it was a mimicry of the daemati that tore into her head all those years ago. I need to do more research, see if I am able to undo whatever it is she redid without irreparably damaging her mind. If I can’t, the only answer is the witch.”

“Is that even possible? To mimic something like that?” Azriel asked, stepping forward so your drooping head would fall against his arm.

“Witches draw power beyond their reserve and even beyond the cauldron. We know so little about them. Tamlin should not have been making deals with them,” Helion curtly replied.

Any lightness in the room had very clearly disappeared.

“Take your mate back to your room. We can discuss this when she no longer looks like she’s fighting to stay awake.”

“I am awake,” you argued, trying and failing to haul yourself into an upright position.

Rhysand huffed out a laugh. “I wouldn’t even be awake after having two high lords in my mind. Go rest. We will talk in the morning.”

Azriel assisted as you stood on unsteady legs, but the attempt was futile. The shadowsinger gathered you into his arms as you sent an accusatory finger in Rhysand’s direction. “Liar.”

It wasn’t until you were alone in the hallway, your head against Azriel’s shoulder, his arms beneath your body, that you spoke again.

“Azriel?”

He hummed in response.

“What’s a mate?”

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel angst

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narcissistshandler · 8 months

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𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘, 𝗕𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧

and here we go again in more smuts I write in 40 minutes randomly overnight. the choso part in the trailer keeps popping up for me all over my social media, so that's for everyone who has this man as husband! top!amab! reader and bottom!choso below. this was written to be read as gn, so if anything is wrong please let me know!

Choso always made the cutest sounds during sex. He was a very domestic and simple man, most of the time he would ask you in a soft voice to turn off the lights before continuing what you were doing, (even though you two knew the darkness of the room did little to hide the flush in his face, his open mouth in an involuntary movement or how his cock twitched at the smallest of compliments). He usually liked looking at your face during sex and blushed like a virgin when you tried anything in daylight. And after one of the neighbors complained about the noise, Choso not only started to avoid them, he also started to have a habit that you hated:

He started trying to be as quiet as possible in bed.

You weren't happy about it. It was hard to actually hear any of the moans or whimpers your husband made when you fucked him exactly like he had wanted all day during which he tried to show you with the eyes - it was never a difficult task, considering you were always itching to have him under you, anytime.

What sounded like a snarl reached your ears, muffled by the pillow Choso was hugging to his face, your pillow.

Your fingers dug into his lean hips, ring sunk into his skin in a way that should hurt and thumbs pressing hard over the knobby bones you pulled him back against you with each thrust, so hard that every time your thighs and his ass met, the twinge of pain shot through your senses.

In the low light, his long hair blended into the darkness and your shadow fell over his torso. You two were completely naked, skin to skin, and even condom use had been discarded when you entered into a relationship.

You liked having him like this, with no barriers between you, raw and messy and wet. Choso liked it too, as much as he never said it out loud, you knew.

He also liked it when you came inside him. It left him feeling used and dirty and belonging to you. It was another one of those things that would be hard to get him to admit, but that was okay too.

"I am close." Your voice filled the stuffy air in the room.

All the windows were closed and the curtains drawn, both the front door and the bedroom door were locked, making it difficult for air to circulate. The idea of getting caught during sex by anyone was mortifying to Choso to the point where he didn't even like you using the scenario as dirty talk.

Big brother thing, you concluded, even if today only you and choso were home.

Choso's knuckles turned white where he gripped the pillow, so hard that the ripping sound rang out, the golden band of the wedding ring shining even in the dark on his finger. His hole tightened around you, helping the boiling sensation of pleasure just build in your stomach.

Your hips reacted on their own, shooting forward, back into your husband's relaxed, wet hole.

"Where should I come?" you questioned, wheezing occasionally interrupting your speech. "Should I take it off?"

It was a mere tease, as you knew how possessive Choso was when it came to your cum, he hated it being wasted, but in his delusional pleasure mind, that should have sounded more like an threat.

He seemed to mutter an irritated reply that was once again muffled by the pillow.

"I can't understand what you're talking, darling," you said as you started to back away, leaving Choso's warmth. You had to fight the immediate urge to just shove back in him and fuck him until you came.

The response was immediate, Choso's hole tightening so hard it looked like it wanted to suck your cock. He pushed the pillow away, allowing you to see the trace of tears on his face and the mess of saliva on his chin.

Beautiful.

"D-don't take it off," he pleaded sweetly. Maybe because he'd been fucked for so long his voice sounded loud, almost like a scream he didn't seem aware of. "In-inside... C-come in me." He repeated, sounding desperate: "Come in me."

And who were you to deny him anything?

Using your grip on his hips, you began to fuck him, eagerly, almost violently. Your cock eased in and out of him, being engulfed by the heat of his tight walls.

Choso's lips were trembling, his whole body was trembling - you noticed right away - and you wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss him. But you forced yourself to just watch as his eyes rolled back, his arms hugging the pillow to his chest as the husky, sweet moans you loved most fell from his mouth.

Your nails pressed into his skin and you came, hard, hips swaying in erratic thrusts to enjoy the pleasure coursing through you. Your cock twitched and spurted inside him, marking his entrails with your belongings.

Choso gasped for air, body writhing on the sheets and you saw the exact moment he came all over his stomach and your pillow. Coming into him was enough to send him into his own orgasm.

Now you kissed him, grabbing the pillow between your chests and throwing it towards the floor. You swallowed each of his sighs; sweat and semen forming a mess between your bodies and before the memory of the inconvenient neighbor and the anxiety of being heard by strangers during sex returned, you rotated your hips in slow circles still inside him, extracting every reaction and every ounce of pleasure from him and gently led him on for a second round, then a third...

Then, you made Choso so loud that none of the neighbors had the nerve to come and complain the next day. Inflamed by it, after being fucked to the point he limped the next day and his throat got hoarse, he never tried to hide his moans from you ever again, even at the risk of being heard by his younger brothers.

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hello-kuni · 1 year

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𝐃𝚬𝚨𝐃 𝚶𝐅 𝚴𝚰𝐆𝐇𝚻

syn: when you're sleeping and they need you and how they remedy that situation

ft. diluc, itto, thoma, kaeya

cw: 18+ mdni, f!reader, somnophilic elements, dubcon-ish, m masturbation, f receiving oral, dry humping, thigh fucking

a/n: welcome to my genshin debut (bear with me pls i'm getting out of my slump)

❁ diluc

it's late in the night when he creeps into the bedroom. you're already fast asleep and unaware of his late arrival. he keeps the light off to change, unwilling to disturb you. as he crawls into bed beside you, he notices the covers have slipped down your body, knowing goosebumps are rising on your skin in the chilly room. he catches a glimpse of your figure as he reaches to cover you, nothing more than a shadow in the dark.

"archons," he whispers, feeling himself harden at the sight. he hadn't realized just how...frustrated he is until that moment. the last thing he wants is to wake when he knows he can stave off his desires for the time being. so that's exactly what he does.

conjuring an image of you, he lays back against his pillow and lets his hand wrap around his cock. his strokes are quick and uncaring. something about touching himself to the thought of you feels wrong to him and he'd rather not draw it out for too long. not to mention his body his heavy with sleep.

he's getting close to his release, unaware of the fact he's quietly moaning your name as he's imagining that it's your pussy squeezing him instead of his own hand. he hadn't noticed you stirring beside him, awoken by the gentle sound of you name in the beloved timber of his voice. but he's well aware that you're now awake when you wrap your hand over his, effectively stopping his strokes moments before he cums.

heat creeps up his neck at being caught. your hand trails lower as you whisper, "even at times like this, i'm yours to have."

he lets out a shaky breath, but his conviction is solid. "i'll never disturb you for a need i can satiate on my own. not like that."

the mere implication of your words was enough to shake any hint of sleep from him, now fully awake and present. the thought of doing something such as that would never cross his mind.

you bring your hand up to cup his jaw, sultry eyes peering up at him. "then come to bed earlier and let me take care of you."

now that was something he could work with. he brings his lips to your own and mumbles in agreement. after this exchange he's prepared to call it a night, his earlier frustration a fading memory, when you disappear under the sheets. and at the warmth that envelopes him, sleep becomes a distant thought.

❁ itto

fours rounds before bed apparently still wasn't enough for itto. he awoke a few hours after falling asleep, hard from a dream where you were--no, no he can't think about it. if he thinks about it his problem won't go away. but not thinking about it isn't helping either.

he resolves to ignore the ache and go back to sleep, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling you in close with his face tucked into your hair. but all that does is rub your ass against his already sensitive cock and now he's greedy for more. he shudders at the feeling, breath catching in his throat. he tries to resist, he really does, but he's weak when it comes to you.

the next movement is accidental, he tells himself. he's just trying to get comfortable. but that little taste is all he needs to be rutting against your ass. it's not the rough thrusts from earlier in the night, but something sloppy and vaguely desperate. all the while, he's still cautious, unwanting to wake you.

guilt is distant feeling creeping closer as he continues to drag the length of his cock against you. but that all dissolves when he feels your gentle hand on the back of his neck. he sucks in a breath, uncaring of the hair in his mouth.

"is this okay?" he asks, voice a rough whisper. "tell me it's okay."

at times like this, it's like his personality does a complete shift. it sends a heat through you and you just want to hear more of it. you don't have the energy for another round, were barely able to keep up earlier, but this--this is fine. your reply comes out a mumble, "it's okay."

the arms wrapped around your waist tighten and his speed quickens, chasing what he's craved since his interrupted dream of you. he doesn't stop until his cum is coating your back.

❁ thoma

the sun still has a bit of a journey before the first rays begin to peak over the horizon. yet thoma is regretfully awake to begin the day's duties. which wouldn't be so bad any other day, but today he awoke with an ache. he feels only a little guilty as he trails kisses down your naked body--the memory of that little fact doing nothing to help his case--scattering them across your thighs and gently coaxing you from sleep.

as he nestles between your thighs, you begin to stir, a soft murmur of his name falling from your lips as your hips wiggle at the first lick of his tongue. your hands gravitate to his hair, urging him on from those teasing kitten licks. he's quick to get the hint. he groans into you as his tongue delves between your slick folds.

in moments like this, even when he’s desperate to alleviate the growing ache, he prioritizes your pleasure over his. always. it's no fun for him if you're not enjoying it. but being buried between your legs is as enjoyable for him as it is for you. his mouth works you like a man who’s forgotten the last time he’s had a meal. it’s sloppy, yet not without thought behind each movement. his tongue licks long, languid stripes up through your folds, flicking across your sensitive clit. his mouth closes over the aching bud to suck and slurp. every lewd sound he makes mixes with the ones he’s drawing out of you.

he would have stayed there a lot longer if you weren't pulling on his hair. he crawls up your body, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. when he gets to your face he gives you a sleepy grin, and says simply, "good morning."

"a very good morning," you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and one leg hooking around his back to pull him closer.

his gaze drifts to the window where he can see just enough of the sky to decide he can spare a few more minutes with you before he gets ready for the day. the slight roll of his hips against you is all you need to understand his plan.

❁ kaeya

archons above, he really can't stand those little shorts of yours. it's gotten to the point they haunt him in his dreams. nightmares, really. the slight peak of your ass is always taunting him in wake and sleep. not to mention the way they hug you so perfectly, sculpting you ass and framing your thighs, his eyes can't help but stare as you walk by him. it doesn't help that he knows you're wearing them right now.

it's no secret to you that he has a rather strong fixation on your ass and thighs. it's those thighs he wants to feel right now, highlighted by those little sleep shorts. he has a long day ahead of him, he should be sleeping, but the only thing on his mind is you.

there's little shame as he reaches down between your bodies and frees his cock from its confines, one hand holding onto your hip. a shiver crawls down every nerve of his spine as he slips his cock between your plush thighs, the warmth enveloping him like a sinful hug. he bites back a moan, swallowing it as it wells up in his throat. chewing on his lower lip, he rolls his hips once.

and it's enough to shatter whatever self-control he has left.

a strangled moan leaves his lips and there's nothing he can do to stop it. his thrusts pick up pace, racing him towards his climax he's desperately sought since crawling into bedside you and feeling the expanse of the bare skin of your legs. he's so close, so close--

"kaeya." your voice cuts through the room, thick with sleep. his hips stutter but don't stop.

"couldn't help myself," he groans. "not when you're dressed like this."

you hummed in response, hand covering his as his thrusts pick up pace again. warm breath fans across your neck. it's not long until he's painting your thighs. and soon after rolling you on your back to lay between your legs.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc smut #itto x reader #itto smut #thoma x reader #thoma smut #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟlyn writes

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bimbobaggins69 · 7 months

Text

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•

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#divider by @v6que #steddie fic #steddie x reader smut #steddie smut #steddie x you #steddie stranger things #steddie x reader #steddie #steddie au #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson #steve harrington

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zorosdimples · 6 months

Text

pairing ⛧ yandere!diavolo x f!reader x barbatos

warnings ⛧ minors: please do not interact! i will block you. this is a doozy… implied toxic relationships, inhuman anatomy, monsterfucking, breeding, knotting, cervix fucking, dubious consent, pregnancy mention, lots and lots of cum, passing out, neglect (kind of), bondage and restraints, implied nonconsensual acts at the end. reader has a vagina and is referred to as “my little human” and “little one.” please let me know if there is anything i missed!

word count ⛧ 1129

notes ⛧ this is the first installment of the garden of earthly delights! i apologize for the wait; i hope everyone enjoys <3

you have never looked more beautiful—more his—than in this moment, diavolo thinks. the demon prince has one massive hand encircling your ankles, pressing your knees flush to your chest. his other hand cradles the back of your head with adoration, forcing your teary gaze to remain on him, a clawed thumb hooked between your swollen lips. his amber irises are nearly subsumed by his pupils, jet as the moonless night.

black spots cloud your watery vision as you slobber all over the digit, broken whines the only sound to leave your lips; the golden tips of his horns flash in your periphery. you’re on the verge of losing consciousness.

diavolo has been breeding you for hours. his long, thick cock—gilt, ribbed, impossibly large, and complete with a knot—has already stuffed you so full of seed that your stomach is distended. the viscous liquid, a rich cream with an otherworldly sheen, spurts out of your abused cunt with each of his powerful thrusts. the rest of it tingles hotly in your core.

“you can take one more, can’t you, my little human?” diavolo coos, breath unnervingly steady given the force of his movements. he leans down to smear a gentle kiss against your damp hairline before dropping your head and sliding his hand down to rub your puffy clit, plenty slick with the fluids coating your flesh.

“c-can’t,” you whimper. your nerves are fried and the overstimulation has your head pounding and your legs shaking as diavolo’s cock batters your cervix. your hands scratch and scrape at his chest in an attempt to get him to slow, to stop—anything—but your nails do not even pierce the prince’s thick flesh. the demon chuckles at your pathetic protests and his pace quickens in response.

hasn’t he taught you that you are not as fragile as you think?

“you can,” diavolo asserts, pulling out entirely. his crimson strands hang past his forehead and obscure his eyes, the glistering gold almost menacing as he leans over you. he strokes himself lazily, grazing his flared knot with a shiver, ready for his high. ready to see your womb swell with his heir.

“and you will,” he punctuates by plunging his cock and knot inside you in one fluid motion, a guttural groan rumbling from his heaving chest. your mouth stretches to accommodate a scream that never passes your lips. your body is aflame, dripping with sweat; the room fades into nothingness as diavolo’s hot cum pumps into your pulsing cunt.

the room is dusky when you awaken. your lover is gone, his warmth and ever-present touch absent, stillness in his place. the slippery silk sheets cling to you and glide along your curves as you sit upright. you clutch your forehead and curse the dull thump in your skull, a wince breaking the quiet. you feel a trickle of sticky cum ooze from you to join the wet puddle you slept atop like an animal.

the demon prince’s little pet.

a rustling sound draws you from your thoughts. a looming figure swathed in shadow floats toward the bed; you squeak in fright as you yank the sheets up to your neck in an attempt to shield your nude form.

“there you are,” barbatos, who you can now see as he emerges from the darkness, says. “i apologize for disturbing you. i am here on behalf of the young master.”

you breathe a shaky sigh of relief—the demon butler is your only friend in the lonely castle. “you scared me, barbatos. where’s diavolo?”

barbatos turns on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a faint glow. his eyes, emerald in the low light, shine eerily as his gaze meets yours. “the young master had to run to an impromptu meeting, but he did not wish to disturb your rest. thus, i am here to aid you in his stead.”

you furrow your brows. a meeting. you were once a member of the student council, privy to conferences and other social functions—until diavolo’s devotion to you got the better of him. (as a human, you are far safer being completely removed from lesser demons. and there is no one better to care for you than the prince of the devildom himself.)

you suppress your memories. “thank you. i can manage myself.”

instead of bowing and leaving, though, barbatos stands still. his forked tail sways at his feet and his skeletal horns gleam resolutely. after a few moments of deathly silence, you rephrase your dismissal: “i don’t need any help, barbatos. i appreciate you checking on me.”

the demon takes a step closer to the bed, his knees nearly knocking against the frame. “you do not seem to understand me,” barbatos muses, gloved hand delicately resting beneath his chin. if you were less disoriented, you would notice the hint of mirth in his tone. “lord diavolo ordered me to assist you, as he had to leave unexpectedly. i shall honor his wishes.”

the corners of the butler’s lips curl into a faint smirk, but no humor marks his visage. in fact, there seems to be a primal hunger lurking in the dark, verdant depths of barbatos’s irises. fear beams through your body. it starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads its icy tendrils out through your limbs, biting your fingertips. headache forgotten, you now feel faint; your heart skitters like scared prey. unconsciously, you pull the sheets around you tightly, temporarily shielding yourself from the humiliation that is sure to come.

“there is nothing to fear, little one,” barbatos soothes, smoothing a hand over your hair, matted with sweat and his master’s cum. the act is more patronizing than it is comforting.

the demon snaps his fingers and the sheets wrapped around you disappear. you scramble to cover yourself with your hands, but barbatos is infinitely stronger and faster than you are. his forked tail—cold and wet—coils around your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed. another snap of his fingers, and your body is bound with invisible restraints. your arms are stretched above your head, almost painfully so. your legs are spread wide and bent at the knee; no matter how hard you try, you can’t move. there’s even a gag in your mouth to muffle your cries and force you to suck oxygen through your nose.

crouching between your open legs, the butler tsks. “oh my, what a mess.” his tail slithers up your leg and settles atop your womb. the slightest pressure from the appendage causes a stream of diavolo’s cum to rush out of your bruised hole. the demon’s snakelike tongue darts out and tastes the semen that is now pooled beneath your ass.

bartabos’s eyes meet yours and he smiles something wicked. “let’s get you cleaned up—shall we?”

#the banner is a detail from hieronymus bosch’s triptych ‘the garden of earthly delights’#dividers are my own!#the garden of earthly delights #kinktober 2023 #obey me smut #barbatos smut #diavolo smut #barbatos x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me x reader #tw dark content #tw dubcon #tw noncon #tw yandere #tw knotting #tw monsterfucking #༄ kae writes

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bunji-enthusiast · 3 months

Text

Closer And Closer

Note || as requested by many, here is the sequel! This was a ton of fun to write 🤲

WC || 2,535

<(Previous Part)> <(You are here)>

Sypnosis || With your new friend in hand, you begin earning some unexpected honesty—and new understandings.

Once, there was a dream. Sometimes it would recur, coming back to you in the encroaching depths of your mind no matter how much you wanted to stop dreaming this very same dream. It was always on and off, how it can always come back–like a nightmare–just how can one describe it?

People can forget their own dreams long after they wake up, lest they be lucky to want to write down the dream. So you were one and the same, the trepidation always sneaking upon you, like an approaching danger that will never fail to make your nerves stand on end.

“Mommy,” You tugged at the hem of the woman’s dress, a baby trapped within a limited consciousness; yearning for love, curiosity and just always wanting to be around your parents. It’s natural and in nature for a young child to always want their parents. “Why are you gonna be gone for so long?”

Oh, that sweet, sweet voice. How adorable could you be? The woman just looked down upon your small form with a smile, so very reminiscent of motherly love. Only a mother could bring a kind of peace like that to their child, the woman thought. She crouched down to your level, patting the crown of your head with a gentle hand, so very gentle as you remember her even gentler heartbeat. A voice came from her mouth, words carried with a saccharine tone. “My little sweet apple pie, it is only a work trip!” She giggled, then wrapped her arms around you and held you close. Causing you to giggle as well, laughter so joyous even the woman holding you now couldn’t help but feel such joy because of you alone. “I’ll be back before you can say Poppies!”

You look up at her, strangely the woman’s face was misty, enshrouded by black shadows. As if reality didn’t want you to see her, your own mother. Still, a smile remained upon your face as you nodded at the woman. “Hehe! Okay, mom.”

Slowly you blinked, the world suddenly began disappearing from sight, the environment twisting upon your peripherals.

“What?”

You groan audibly, cursing to yourself under your breath. “Of-fucking-course.”

Slowly, You remember where you are now. A hand comes into your view and holds you steady, a very familiar one.

“Don’t get up too quickly, you will get weary Angel.” His voice warns, it still seemed so strained and worn worse for wear. Just what kind of things had Catnap done to DogDay? Perhaps you shouldn’t worry about it, something like that is a very personal thing to ask about, no doubt.

You coughed, pounding on your chest as you slowly rose awake. Your companion had been waiting calmly for you to collect yourself, but that had made him a little worried as he winced when you coughed. Slowly enough, you ease yourself into standing with DogDay’s help, all that jumping and landing seriously hurt your body a great deal. No wonder you were exhausted as hell right now.

Right, no time to worry about that now. It was time to be more worried about what to do next, “DogDay, you think you can handle being carried around by me in that state?” You asked with an airy tone, you didn’t want to be too loud and accidentally attract any nearby toys who are under Catnap’s influence. DogDay slumped for a moment, most likely still very worn out from probably the way he had been hanged. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling everything coursing through him, he was very much here and alive.

He always had been continually reminded of this very thing.

Reminded of Catnap.

“No need to worry about me, Angel.” Your companion spoke, his fur ruffling about in his movements. You probably were gonna have to do something about that later, DogDay sorely needed some cleaning up. “I am tougher than you think.”

It seemed his words carried a half-hearted weight, carrying no affirmed meaning to them. You looked at DogDay incredulously, clear as night and day that you knew this well; worn out, tired and cramping for a plan to end the Prototype. You’ve never gotten a good look at the Prototype, only a few times you have gotten a good look at the Prototype’s hand–there must be a whole body from beyond the shadow’s.

Awaiting, no doubt terrifying too. But, you dealt with adrenaline rushes and terrifying monsters from the moment you stepped foot into the abandoned Playtime Co.

“Ah, well, just tell me if anything is bothering you.” You nodded at him, patting down your clothing, the dust falling in your wake. DogDay was quiet for a moment, taking a hand-step back as he looked around at the environment once more. He was considering something, considering how to go about the next phase of the way.

“No safe places here, nothing good.” For a moment, you swore that you had seen his mouth contorting into a frown–though in every Smiling Critter, they always are smiling–So this was completely new, different somehow. “My apologies Angel, safe places are rare to find.” DogDay sighed, he in a sense was habitually instinctive to keep his loved ones safe; going so far as to make sure they have a good sleep. Even if it meant at the cost of his own health.

He cared deeply for his friends, but they were gone now. Catnap was someone he could not recognize anymore, that wasn’t his friend.

DogDay’s only focus was making sure you are alive and safe.

Something of which is admittedly difficult to do, knowing all the horrors that had occurred in Playtime Co. but it wasn’t too troubling for someone like you. DogDay was glad for you about that, impressed even that you had managed to survive thus far before you had met him.

You patted his head, causing him to look back at you. “Nothing to apologize for! Everyone’s just… a little too crazy nowadays.” You mutter, walking over to a dusty pile and finding a tape. There seemed to be thousands of these tapes all around the Factory, some of which you could’ve sworn recording yourself.

Being a former employee for Playtime Co. is one thing to say, but being an engineer was a different process. You were only involved in the works of designing and constructing, not once had you ever really got hand in hand with actually building things. But you were highly proud of the work you had done and completed alongside your fellow co-workers, looking back on it now… all it had done simply saddened you.

How it seemed to be the way that the toys seemed to be so lifeless, once so full of joy, love and empathy for everyone in this place all together.

You wouldn’t mind turning back the clock and doing good for once more, the right way this time. When everything was said and done, the toys you came across were well justified in their anger for being abandoned–but you weren’t looking to be on the top list of being killed either. Considering how you had gotten lucky apparently by quitting the day before your co-workers had all disappeared.

Getting through this place was no trouble, you remember some good places of this Factory like the back of your hand. Huggy Wuggy, Kissy Missy of whom is his spouse, was rather different to the likes of the tall-blue furred beast. Rather inconceivable in behaviors, Kissy Missy was a perturbed ally, one you didn’t expect. All the toys you met so far, (save for Poppy, and Kissy Missy) had full intentions to kill you from going any further.

This Factory is a whole goddamn amalgamation of mysteries you weren’t sure you wanted to solve anymore. Let alone having any trust in every being you come across now too, how disturbing must this get? You sure as hell weren’t Elliot Ludwig.

“I simply wish I could be of more help.” DogDay recounted with a mournful tune, breaking you out of your thoughts and consolation. You frown at him, wanting to offer comfort: the words could not come through. He shuffled around to begin looking for things too, but now something had crossed your mind.

You still couldn’t piece together almost everything between DogDay and Catnap, some things he had said back at the heretic altar had stuck with you. Until now it was dismissable, out of sight and out of mind you supposed. Though you recounted some thoughts that had warmed you in ways you didn’t expect, at first meet he already was of great character–someone you truly wanted to be around.

The repugnant smell that had always seemed to be invading your senses was gone now, this particular area was an untouched one. “DogDay… do you mind if I ask you something?” You spoke, stepping over the rubbish and noting the sound footsteps that echo in your wake. Don’t walk too much, this area may be empty but it didn’t mean that Catnap wasn’t watching. That cat was terrifying to you. Permeating nightmares had run endlessly through your mind, and his gas before when calling back on previous close counters with the obsessed follower of the prototype were far too close.

Continually he had gone about looking for anything that may be of assistance to you both, still he had spoken in reply, “Angel, I will answer anything. You deserve as such.” DogDay recounted, noting what he had said to you before you fell to the slumbers of sweet, sweet sleep.

Cool, cool cool… that was dandy and nice of him. You just weren’t sure how to articulate the very question that lays burning in your mouth, for fear of the fact you might be gazed upon with ranicid and covert questioning, like an ornery old bitch. Pointedly you stepped around the rubble, in turn you came across an old set-up, as if there used to be children here. A blanket laying upon the ground and the ravaged pillows, still in condition that you could say that was okay to be recycled for use. Still quite in a-okay position to sit down on, waiting for DogDay to finish scrambling around.

“So,” You began, lacing your fingers together and intertwining them purely out of your nerves spiking in your body as of right now. “What’s… the deal between you and Catnap?” Abruptly, at those words, his very being felt as if he tensed up. You couldn’t read him right now, suddenly incomprehensible to understand.

“I suppose you should know about it, in order to really understand Catnap.” He motioned, steadily crawling over to where you sat. “Catnap was someone you could get along great with, quiet and not much of a talker, but actions speak louder than words Angel.”

Then, there was a lapse in his words; DogDay was doing his best to keep himself steady and calm. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to fall apart in front of you, that is not very leader-like of someone such as DogDay.

“Oh, his actions spoke so much more for him than one little word.” He nodded, laying his head upon his crossed arms. DogDay had made himself comfortable as he shifted to a proper position. “But, things happened. Very bad things.” You were albeit surprised he was willingly sharing such information with you, as personal as it would appear.

Still, you had remained muted, this was something that could conceivably help you in dealing with the nightmare cat later on. “Something had happened to him, something I wasn’t aware of. Angel, he.. wasn’t the same Catnap. He wasn’t my friend anymore.” Now, you could understand this well.

You yourself never had a good trade off within all your relationships, no matter what kind of relationship it was… be it; platonic, romantic, friends even! Humans are odd and sometimes indescribable in nature, but it simply has always been this way. But friends change, sometimes partially and even supernaturally.

In DogDay’s case, it was gruesome and religious. Catnap by no means was someone to act fool with, something you could pick out with merely just from first impressions. In passing, this was no offense whatsoever–personally that cat looked scary as hell.

“All my friends just,” Then, DogDay allowed himself to breathe again once more. “I wouldn’t wish it even on my own worst enemy.”

“The Prototype?” You snorted, shifting your weight from one end to the other as you gave him a benign quizzical look.

“Angel.”

“I'm messing with you!”

You waved him off, then put your hands in your lap. It was oddly endearing in how you behaved, the normalcy around here is rare, DogDay would admit. “So it seems, Prototype is his god. I don’t understand every detail, but The Prototype saved him.” He beckoned, recounting the mention of the Prototype from not even two minutes ago.

“So Catnap began viewing this, Prototype as such?” You finished for him, tilting your head. Your companion nodded, lifting his head to recover proper eye contact with you.

“Poppy, the rest who are on your side want nothing more to end the terror of the Prototype’s reign. Come to save me Angel, I thank you so much for that.” Honesty was a fickle thing for DogDay since recalling recent events, but had it come to you? The fearless dog didn’t mind.

“Oh it’s nothing to be thanked for,” You grin at him, ever so slightly. But he’ll take that, “You were in so much pain. That’s a position no innocent person, or toy deserves to be in.”

DogDay had to consider this for a moment, so much consideration had been done lately. Yet, it was all done to simply understand the chaos underlying this factory, no doubt it had caused a lot of trauma (to many in this place) alone. “You're right about that, Angel, I suppose I had gotten too comfortable in all my reckless decadence.” Willfully, he was well aware of his actions as a leader. Some of which he had questioned why he had made them.

Your hand on his ragged-torn furred head had snapped DogDay out of his conscious thoughts, “We all deserve peace, that means you too DogDay.”

You were right.

It seems there are still many things to be learned.

“You are far too kind to me.” He sighed, leaning into your hand. You never moved your hand away from him.

“Though we should probably get you cleaned up.” That sentence alone suddenly broke the comfortable atmosphere, still much rather comedic however.

“Right,” DogDay barked, as if he really was laughing. His whole body shook, it was rather a wave of happiness. Something he had not often felt, it had almost shocked him a little. “I believe they would have some bandages and towels nearby, water too.” Your companion then noted it would most likely be at a medical station somewhere.

You raised a brow at this, causing DogDay to nod with an air of laughter about him as he spoke once more whilst you had hoisted him over your shoulders. “I worked with children quite more often than not, you would be surprised at the amount of things that happen during playtime Angel.”

[Taglist: @zacklover24 ]

#poppy playtime x reader #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime #x reader #I’m I using Angel too much? seems in-character for him to keep calling you that.#aughhh I love this fluffy boy

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