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theeveninghour · 2 months

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All My Dreaming

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

Pairing: Azriel x Winter Court!Reader

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

WC: 16.1k ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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

Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1K notes · View notes

incognit0slut · 4 months

Text

Pretty when you sleep

As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.

warnings: (MINORS DNI!) fem reader, consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, very minimum plot yet very heavy smut. words: around 2k

a/n: In another episode of me getting inspired by a clip that I turned into a gif and wrote something out of it🥴 if you want to read my other attempts at writing a blurb based on gifs, find the hashtag #gifwriting on my page. Also, I can't believe this is my first fic of him as a husband.

YOU WERE TOO PRETTY TO RESIST. You just looked so goddamn tempting while laying on your stomach like that. It didn’t help when the strap of your nightgown fell from your shoulder, uncovering the swell of your breast.

You were so breathtakingly beautiful. So soft. So irresistible.

Spencer always made sure he had your consent every time he touched you. He grew to understand what you liked and didn't like when it came to sex, and sure, maybe thinking of brushing his fingers along your skin while you were unconscious wasn't the best idea. But he couldn't help it. You were just too inviting to resist, so he placed a hand on your hip.

You stirred at the sudden contact he initiated and unconsciously readjust into a more comfortable position, your toes curling before relaxing once more. When you finally stopped squirming around, he reached out again, letting his rough fingers travel up your exposed leg. He started at your knee before going further up between the apex of your plush thighs, where that sweet little cunt of yours was waiting for him.

You were still asleep, even as he started to carefully stroke you, dragging a single knuckle up and down against your thin panties and suppressed a groan as he felt the heat radiating from underneath the material. Your breathing pattern began to change as he continued with his teasing. By the time he circled your clit and added the slightest amount of pressure on it, you started to pant and push your ass higher into the air in response.

He smiled. You wanted this.

Of course, you did. The way your body reacted to his touch spoke for itself. You were already getting so wet that your panties were turning damp and sticky with arousal. He continued to massage your clit through the thin cotton, and he watched in awe as your breath hitched in your throat, almost as though you could feel his actions even when you were unconscious.

Spencer kept his eyes trained on your body as he moved to dip your panties down your legs, carefully lifting your body up just enough to slide them down your curves, allowing them to sit around one of your ankles. Then he carefully slipped off his own clothes, trying to keep as quiet as possible, before his palms splayed against your body to move you onto your back.

“So pretty," he mumbled under his breath as he took note of your loose nightgown and the way it had risen up, exposing more of your skin to his prying eyes. He moved over the mattress slowly, making sure you were still fast asleep, and slipped between your now parted legs.

God, how had he become so lucky? Having you reciprocate his feelings was already a surprise when he confessed, but it surpassed his expectations when you agreed to be his girlfriend. Ten months of pure bliss was what he felt throughout your relationship, and when he noticed some of your clutter in his apartment, he wanted to see it every time he came home.

And now, miraculously, you were his wife. The word carried a weight of joy and wonder that he couldn't quite fathom. Every morning waking up to your shared life, and every night falling asleep next to you, felt like a dream too good to be true.

Granted, you've shared intimate nights so much that he should've gotten used to your body by now. Yet, every touch felt as electrifying and exhilarating as the first time and he found himself still captivated by the warmth of your presence. Even now as he fisted his cock, giving himself a teasing tug as he ran his thumb against the tip, his eyes raking your exposed body.

The way your legs parted for him, showing off your wetness and how already swollen you were even when he was barely touching you. His gaze swept over your exposed breast that slipped out of your nightgown and he brushed a thumb against one of your stiff peaks, feeling the way you trembled beneath him.

The way you shuddered made him jerk his hips against yours erratically, pushing his cock against your mound. Your body reacted to his touch, even in slumber, as your hips arched off the bed. His breath hitched when he rutted his hips forward. The sight of his cock against your abdomen showed him just how deep he would be inside you.

He then eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen tip through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way your pussy spread for him, as though inviting him inside. Your arousal coated his swollen head as he focused his attention on your clit, pressing down on it with his cock as he listened to the increased pace of your breathing.

He moved his cock back up as he let the underside split your folds open, resting his girth between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. You were so fucking pretty it was unreal.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, holding onto the base of his cock as he started to drag the tip through your wetness again, grunting softly as it caught against your tight entrance. “Look at you swallowing me.”

Spencer exercised restraint as he gave soft, subtle thrusts into your aching cunt. His gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart as he continued pushing himself forward, feeling your body begin to resist his entrance as he tried to change the angle.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he whispered. His chest rumbled with a groan as he felt you clenching around his thickness, causing his eyes to snap up to your face in surprise, thinking that he’d wake you up. But you were still very much asleep. "I can't resist you."

He let out a sigh as he managed to thrust his hips further. He paused for a second to cherish the feeling of his cock being completely buried deep inside you, running his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel himself inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he throbbed at the sensation.

He held your hips and slowly dragged his thick cock from your cunt, leaving the tip to keep you stretched out before plunging back inside. The restraint he once had now long gone with the way your body hungrily sucked him. His pace increased as he leaned forward, hovering his body over yours with his hands splayed on either side of your head. He sucked in a breath at the way your body adjusted to him, clenching around his cock as he kept rutting his hips.

And then you suddenly stirred. You moved slightly, your chin tilting upward, and your lips parting to release a breath. Your eyes slowly flutter open from your slumber as you feel the warmth of his body, the subtle shift of his weight, and the aching sensation between your thighs.

"What..." Your voice cracked as you turned to see him, only to let out a low groan at him thrusting a bit harder against you.

"Shh, it's just me," he whispered. The haze of your sleep lifted, and your gaze met him at the same time he leaned down, pressing his lips onto yours.

He captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip as your hands pressed to his chest, feeling his flushed, hot body against your own. You let him devour you while his hips increased in speed, rolling against yours as whimpers began to spill from your lips. Your thighs instinctively tightened around him, curses spilling beneath a heavy breath as the bliss filled your body.

"Spence..." you whimpered. You were breathless, eyes screwed shut, legs now parting even further to give him better access. Throughout the time you were in a relationship with him, you never imagined being woken up like this, but you weren't complaining. Not when you could feel his cock stretching you so deliciously.

Spencer was often embarrassed when it came to dirty talk, but once he realized how much you relished those whispered, filthy words, it became a personal mission to keep you thoroughly satisfied. Knowing how much you loved hearing those filthy words became a secret thrill for him, which was why when he leaned closer to whisper in your ear, you became a whining mess.

“You're always so tight,” he began, his voice deep and raspy, right in your ear before he nipped at the lobe, sending a gasp spilling for your lips as you reached for him in an overwhelming burst of arousal. “Look at you taking me so well. It's like your pussy is made for me.”

A rush of burning heat filled your body, his words affecting you with heat spreading from between your thighs to reach even your toes and fingertips. He buried himself between your neck while thrusting inside of you with rising desperation, pushing himself further, his body rolling against yours.

“Faster,” you begged him in a breathless whimper, all before your teeth sank into your lip, brow wrinkling, moans filling in your chest. It only took him a second to comply. The thrusts of his hips created a loud smack as drove his cock deeper inside of you. You couldn’t help but cry out, overwhelmed by the pleasure, squeezing yourself so tight around him that he let out a grunt.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned in your ear, having the proximately to tell you the dirty, nasty things on his mind. His lips brushed over your neck as he increased his pace. “I love fucking you like this.”

“Please… don’t stop—” You gulped with a brief pause. “Feels so... so good.”

He shook his head against your shoulder.

"I'm not stopping," he continued to whisper in his gruff voice, earning goosebumps on your quivering body. “I love feeling you this close.” He pressed an open kiss on your skin. "I love making you desperate."

“Fuck,” you cried out, body weakening with his every word. The sounds of him pumping into your slick, wet arousal became louder the quicker he thrust into you. “I-I’m getting c-close."

You continued to warble out broken sentences, trying to form any coherent thoughts but all you felt was the searing pleasure that flowed through you. The lewd sounds continued to fill the room as your essence dribbled down your ass and onto the bed, staining the sheets. "I-I'm gonna—"

“Come for me,” he encouraged, lips pressing to your skin between words. “Go on, come on my cock.” The choice words sent a shiver down your spine as the heat bubbled between your thighs.

“I'm coming,” you cried out, voice straining and struggling to speak from him leaving you so breathless. Your body tensed as the pleasure swelled through your body and his final confession toppled you right over the edge.

“I love this so much,” he groaned between you gasping as the first wave of pleasure surged through you, “I love you.”

You finally let go, toes curling in ecstasy as you arched your back, legs growing further apart. Your head spins from the warmth filling every inch of you as he fucked you through your orgasm. You gasped his name, overwhelmed with the bliss he offered, the emotions that drove you at his words. You wanted to say them back, but you couldn't even think properly as the wave of pleasure washed over you.

He continued to thrust, eyes closed, brow creased, lips parted, huffing and groaning and holding you tighter until he reached his own peak. The moment a heavy exhale left his lips, his hips slowed and his cock twitched, signaling the pleasure filling him as he released inside of you. You moaned at the sensation before he eased himself and collapsed on the bed, bringing you along with him as you settled on top of his body.

The two of you lingered in the aftermath of passion for a few seconds too long—breathless, hot, sweaty, and tired. When you lifted your head to look at him, you noticed the softness in his eyes, your heart fluttering at the sight.

"Well, good morning to you, Dr. Reid," you teased.

He laughed, his hands absentmindedly stroking your back. There was a warmth in his gaze, filled with affection as you continued to stare at him. "Good morning, Mrs. Reid."

You couldn't help but smile at the endearment as you placed your head on his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you let his warmth envelop you, singking further into the arms of your husband.

a/n: If you have a specific clip you want me to be inspired by, come and drop me a message. But please be specific so I would know which scene you're talking about.

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nvirskies · 4 months

Text

it's getting hot in here - c. la rue

warnings: reader is like half-naked? just no shirt on is all but reader is wearing a sports bra, nothing sexual just like a tad suggestive?, clarisse is a gay mess, kinda ooc clarisse, i know next to nothing about blacksmithing please hang in there with me, fem reader, no use of y/n, self-conscious reader, not beta read

summary: clarisse goes to pick up a custom order dagger from the forge when she's met with an unexpected sight.

hephaestus!daughter!reader x clarisse la rue

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @lvrue @azrielsdiary @b0ok-lover @star-girl69 @petitegavotte

from this post !

a/n: tbh might make this a multi part thing, at least a second part. also, so sorry this took so long to finish- i got sidetracked with a couple other things irl. hope you enjoy! men, nsfw, non-sapphics, 16- / 19+ dni

It was no secret the kids of Cabin 9 ran a side business to make some extra cash. It was pretty lucrative, given that there would always be a line of demigods waiting to have their weapon(s) of choice customized. Custom engravings, patterns cast into handles, ergonomic handpiece add-ons, and so much more. Name it, and it would be done for the right price, forged with impeccable quality.

And that was how Clarisse La Rue found herself heading to the forge just east of the strawberry fields with a thin paper in one hand and a small bag of golden drachmas in the other. The edges of the slip were just barely singed, and the writing on it looked nearly incomprehensible to many eyes, scribbled notes of her order confirmation and gods only knew what else. It didn’t matter to her, she just needed it to get her dagger and go.

Crowds parted for her like the Red Sea, once-lively conversations coming to a grinding halt as she walked straight through crowds and groups with nothing more than a glare and a sharp look in any general direction.

In no time at all, the familiar sounds of machinery clanking, fire hissing and crackling, and hammers striking metal filled the air. It was the forge, the singular place where one could guarantee there would be at least one child of Hephaestus in there at all hours of the day.

She pushed open the heavy metal door, swinging it wide open soundlessly despite its obvious weight. And what a sight she was greeted with. You were there alone, hunched over a piece of blisteringly hot metal, pounding away at it with a hammer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other.

Something about you entranced her.

She didn’t know if it was the way your hair was pulled into a low ponytail, some loose strands clinging to the sides of your face, the way you subconsciously bit your lip as you focused completely on the red-hot metal in front of you. Or perhaps, it was the way your muscles rippled in the dim firelight as you struck the metal again and again, a thin sheen of sweat covering the exposed portions of your skin from both the heat and the exertion.

Maybe it was a combination or something else entirely.

As she gazed at you, a light blush dusted her cheeks as she came to the realization that you weren’t wearing much while working. The heat of the forge had led you to forgo wearing a shirt entirely, said shirt reduced to a tiny, crumpled gray bundle of fabric in the corner of the room. You were left wearing a sports bra, dusted with ash and soot and a pair of baggy sweatpants resting just above your hips.

It wasn’t as if Clarisse had never seen people dressed in less before. Hell, she’d seen her own fair amount of skin for various reasons. But this time, it seemed different. The slip of paper and bag of coins in her hands were forgotten momentarily as she simply stared at you from the doorway.

The way the dim light of the roaring furnace illuminated you from behind gave you an almost ethereal glow, the edges of the flames flickering around your moving silhouette.

She could see the muscles in your arm and shoulder tensing and relaxing with every ever-so-precise swing of the hammer, and she found herself silently watching you work from the doorway.

Ultimately, it was the soft clinking coming from the bag of drachmas Clarisse held in her hand that drew your attention away from the project in front of you. Your head snapped up, tense and a tad startled from the sudden sound, having been so zoned into your work that you hadn’t noticed her presence.

The hammer in your hand dropped to the metal workbench with a loud clang, the sound reverberating throughout the forge, ripping Clarisse from the glossed-over, hazy look in her eyes as she watched you move just moments ago, having been completely and utterly under your spell.

“Shit-!” you exclaimed, jumping slightly and wincing at the harsh sound, eyes widening further as you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed far too casual compared to how she normally treated campers, especially given her outward distaste towards children of Hephaestus.

And all of a sudden, you’re all too aware of your lack of a shirt and your cheeks flare with an embarrassed bright red flush.

Flushed the same color as the heated metal in front of you, Clarisse noted absentmindedly. It wasn’t a look she didn’t like. But of course, she would never admit that. The big, bad Clarisse La Rue flustered over something as insignificant as muscles on a girl? Impossible.

Her attention is drawn back to you, observing as you scurry to the other side of the room to grab your stashed-away shirt, slipping the loose grey fabric over your body, any and all views of the muscles she had seen just moments prior completely disappearing in a matter of seconds.

After having taken a few calming breaths, you steeled yourself for a barrage of snarky remarks that you were sure would come spewing out of the Ares cabin counselor’s mouth like acid out of the myrmeke’s mouths, but they never came.

Instead, you’re greeted with the sight of a Clarisse who seemed to be a bit flustered? Her eyes didn’t meet yours for a moment before she straightened herself out. Before your very eyes, you watched her cool and collected facade slip over her like a mask, and that trademark smirk of hers tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I’m here to pick up an order, under my name,” she remarks, holding up the bag of drachmas and thin slip of paper in an outstretched hand. Her gaze seemed like it was scrutinizing everything about your appearance from the baggy grey shirt that hung loosely over your frame to the soot just barely smudged on your forehead. Whether it was a good or bad look you had no idea, subconsciously shrinking into the shadows of the dimly lit forge.

“Right, right, La Rue…” you trail off nervously, scanning the room for the rack that held completed orders and leafing through the tags attached to each object. “La Rue, La Rue, La Rue, where is it-?” you muse to yourself, repeating her last name in a hushed tone until the sight of it comes into view. The dagger she had ordered was at the edge of the table, with the request for a heavyweight handle and an etching of her initials into the butt of it.

Normally, Clarisse would have found your behavior annoying if it were coming from anyone else, but oddly enough, she quite liked the way her last name rolled off your tongue. It felt almost natural, too natural. Quickly, she brushed away the lingering thoughts about how you had looked almost god-like with the flame from the roaring furnace glowing behind you, the thoughts of what your skin would feel like under her hands.

After a beat of silence, you grabbed said dagger, placed a little ball of clay over its razor-sharp tip, and slipped it into a small drawstring bag, pulling it closed.

“That’ll be five golden drachmas, La Rue, or fifteen silver ones. Whatever works for you” you say as you hand her the bag, other hand outstretched for the paper she held and to take the coins. She dropped the five golden coins in your palm and grabbed the bag to turn on her heel and walk out without another word.

Or so you thought.

“Thanks for the weapon. I’ll see you around, pretty girl.”

#🖋️ nvir writes #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse pjo #cabin 9 #daughter of hephaestus #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv

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nnight-dances · 1 year

Text

REPETITION / RARE LOVE

pairings: kim mingyu x fem!reader (ft. yoon jeonghan)

genre: fluff, angst, suggestive & sexual content

tropes: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers (except mingyu's the only idiot), pining, flirting

warnings: explicit language, banter, alcohol consumption, borderline jeonghan slander but it's okay because i would die for the man, has been proofread by me once but only barely. kazuha (le sserafim) is your roommate, huh yunjin is present.

WHAT TO EXPECT

it's simple enough: you and mingyu are perfect for each other. you've told him as much but after years of him avoiding the topic, you leave him alone. but when your long-time infatuation with jeonghan gets rejected, you have nothing to distract you from your desire to be with mingyu. all it takes is you making out with the wrong person and a can of beer for mingyu to come to his senses. (about 11k)

OR: maybe you don't hate repetition as much as you claim to.

SEQUEL OUT NOW!

“why are men on tinder actually vile?” you question out loud, not quite expecting an answer as your eyes continue to read the offensive opener you’d received from a recent match. mingyu, who’s crouched on the desk across from you, frowns.

“y/n, we’re meant to be studying,” he points out, “but also i thought you were over tinder?”

you look at him blankly, “i am! i just gotta finish what i started you know…”

mingyu looks deeply disappointed in you and you slide your phone across to him, “look at this message i just got! it’s disgusting! i don’t need to know if someone’s wet at the thought of—”

“god, y/n, do you have to scream?” he asks as he takes hold of your phone, busying his fingers probably with blocking the guy. you momentarily look back at your screen where the black document meant to be the outline for your final art history paper taunts you.

you sigh, looking down at your phone when mingyu returns it. “i paused your account and deleted the app.” you sigh yet again, “man! if you were gonna uninstall it without my permission you should’ve just deleted my account.”

“you’d just make another one anyway,” he shrugs, “plus, this way when you go back you’ll remember why you left in the first place.”

you grumble something under your breath but resume your attempts at writing. mingyu smiles a little as he goes back to his own work. a beat passes before, he puts his pen down again and when he sees you’re staring at your screen distantly, he asks, “did you talk to jeonghan yet?”

you gasp at the mention of your years-old crush, glancing around you as if you weren’t in a private study room (because apparently the only way either of you could get anything done was while talking to each other). “what?” mingyu continues, “one of us had to address the elephant in the room.”

“wow, you’re just the worst friend ever, aren’t you? it’s like you can’t read rooms at all. i clearly did not want to talk about jeonghan.”

“well, now you are. so you might as well be honest with me. did you think about confessing to him?”

you deflate, stomach suddenly uneasy, “no. i don’t think i will. i don’t need him to know.”

“you kinda do. y/n, look at me,” mingyu knocks on the wood to demand your attention, “it’s the only way you’ll ever have an answer.”

“i don't want an answer.”

“…”

"because i'm going to move on from him!"

"..."

“okay, well, i’m starting to! just watch me, okay? i have the agency to not be completely consumed by my very shallow attraction to a very attractive and impressive man.”

“right. you just used attractive twice in a sentence— and no, i don’t care if it wasn’t the same form of the word, you absolutely hate redundant things. and yet, you refuse to recognize the way out of this pattern of yours.”

“you are so tiring, mingyu, you know that? exhausting, even. i don’t want to do this anymore.” you shake your head at him, suddenly invigorated to finish this damn preliminary proposal of yours.

—

yunjin cackles as she plops down across from you in the dining hall, finding you scrolling ever so dedicatedly on pinterest. “what’s this?”

you look up at her with a pout, “i need a dress for hoshi’s little party. it’s in two weeks and i have zero options.”

“fuck, i knew i was forgetting something,” she grimaces in her typical huh yunjin way and shifts closer, “i need to find something for that too. can’t just wear a corset and call it day since he’s labelling it a formal and whatnot.”

“he really is the worst,” you agree, pausing to muse over a pretty white dress with red roses all over it. “hmm, what about this one?”

yunjin tilts her head and nods as she looks between you and the dress, probably imagining you in it. then, you sigh, “it’s just i don’t think red is my color like that.”

you’re about to elaborate when you hear a gasp from behind you, “that is simply not true!” you don’t have time to react when a figure slides in next to you. goddamnit, it’s jeonghan, you realize, trying hard to keep it together when his shoulder comes to sit next to yours. “you absolutely fucking rock the color red.”

“i do?” is all you can muster as yunjin chokes out a badly covered laugh. you glare at her, “what’s funny, jen?”

“hah, nothing, i agree with jeonghan, you’d look lovely in red.”

you frown, unconvinced as you scroll some more, feeling dizzy from jeonghan’s presence.

“preparing for hoshi’s party i presume?” jeonghan asks and you nod. “i’m so stressed, i have nothing and it’s approaching so fast.”

“you have time though,” he reassures but you’re quick to protest, “i’m not going to have any time next week because we’re organizing that night flea market. i’ll be running around campus so i need to take a trip this week.” the beauty of going to a college with an isolated campus: peace and you gotta plan every time you leave campus because there’s a singular bus that takes you to the city. it’d be a whole day trip for you if not for mingyu, who thankfully has a car that he can drive.

“ahh, tell me when you’re going into the city, y/n,” yunjin pats you, “i gotta go too.”

you nod and then remember, “right of course, i just remembered kazuha saying she wanted to come too.”

“nice,” yunjin approves, “we need all the opinions we can get. did you get mingyu to agree to drive you yet?”

“i texted him earlier but he hasn’t replied, which is slightly concerning because he may not know how to spell but he does write back very fast.”

jeonghan chuckles, “mind if i join you guys too?”

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, “you wanna come shopping with us?”

he nods, that sweet smile of his plastered across his face, “yeah, i could use a new formal outfit. i’m tired of wearing the same black suit to everything.” he nudges your side, “plus, you guys could help me out. i can never decide on anything all alone.”

—

“maybe i should just not go,” you groan with your head in your hands. mingyu rolls his eyes, slapping your back, “why would not go? if your problem’s with jeonghan, he should be the one to stay back. not you.”

you sit back up, staring at the eggs in your plate. beside you, mingyu chugs his glass of orange juice, and you lean against him. “god, i hate him so much. do you wanna go see if the playground’s free?”

“right now?” mingyu looks at the time. it’s 11 am on saturday, still an hour from the time everyone agreed to meet in front of mingyu’s car, which is conveniently parked right across from the playground. as if following your line of thought, he grins, “alright. but you finish your food first.”

you sigh, “okay, mom, i will.”

five minutes later find you racing mingyu for the best swing in the playground— months of visiting the place had taught you the first swing was the only one that didn’t creak too loud and experienced the least amount of bumps during the ride. mingyu’s fast but you’re stubborn so you reach out for his arm midway, sticking your nails into the skin, knowing how dramatic he is about these things.

he gasps, “DO NOT CLAW ME.” strong as he might be, he slows down to rip your grip off. you seize the opportunity, getting a headstart and laugh when you reach the swing before him, sitting down firmly before mingyu can pull you away.

“that’s cheating, y/n, you know it!”

“hey, you’re the one that has an advantage. you go to the gym like eight times a week. i go like thrice a month.”

“sounds like someone’s lazy and whiny to me.”

you smile, “someone lazy wouldn’t win that race. and you’re the one that’s whining,” you point to his stance, his arms at his hips like an affronted toddler. he loosens his body with a pout as he walks over to the second swing. “whatever.”

time passes a little too fast for you two when you’re fighting like this because kazuha’s running over to you, breathless. “y/n! what are you guys doing?”

“zuha, hi! did you—”

“yep, i got your lip gloss.”

you chuckle, throwing your arms around her, “why are you the best roommate ever?”

mingyu scoffs, “what about you being the worst roommate ever?”

kazuha laughs, too nice to agree with him, “hey, that’s not true.” you hit him in the side, “you’re just jealous that you’re in a single. i guess money really does make people lonely.”

“i’d go for a double even if i was that rich,” jeonghan’s voice pops up from beside you. he sure has a knack for appearing out of thin air. “i couldn’t handle being alone.”

“not everyone can love themselves as much as i do,” mingyu shrugs, smugly as crosses his arms. “i’m self-sufficient like that.”

“if you guys are done, we should start moving,” comes yunjin’s voice from near mingyu’s car, “it’s already fifteen past 12.”

“i call shotgun!” yunjin shouts and you’re quick to fight back, “no way, i already called it.”

“if i didn’t hear it, then it doesn’t count,” she teases, leaning against the passenger side. you glare at mingyu, “i called it in front of mingyu! the driver is the one that counts.”

mingyu laughs at the petty fight, “y/n did call it earlier this morning.”

“that’s not fair! mingyu’s obviously going to take y/n’s side, you guys spend every breathing minute together. the rest of us don’t stand a chance.”

you smirk, “don’t be a sore loser, huh yunjin, you can call it when we’re coming back. if you remember to.”

“i hate you,” she mutters as everyone settles into the car.

“i’m open to music requests, dear friends,” you announce once you’ve started off. “but i reserve the right to reject any tasteless songs.”

“isn’t this the textbook example of a tyranny?” jeonghan breathes and you shoot him a look over your shoulder, “hey, the power comes with the seat. it’s natural selection.”

mingyu groans through laughter, “you know you don’t make any sense. just play some music.”

you roll your eyes, “he says as he laughs his fat ass off.”

“she’s just salty my ass is fatter than hers,” he mutters under his breath. the three in the backseat break into laughs at that, all at your expense as you gape at them. such betrayal.

“i don’t know why i call you friends. you’re monsters.”

kazuha pipes in, “y/n, are you calling your sweet roommate a monster right now?”

jeonghan is quick to join in, “honestly, i’d say kazuha is the nicest friend among us here.”

“fine, everyone but zuha’s out to get me right now.” the screaming continues for a little bit longer until yunjin and kazuha tire themselves out and pass out. you chuckle when you look at them, yunjin’s head bobs in the middle of the three until it hits kazuha’s shoulder, whose head then rests on top.

swiftly, you pull out your phone camera and capture the moment, sure to tease them later. as you’re clicking the photos, jeonghan’s face sticks into the corner with a sneaky grin and you shift the angle to include him. enjoying the attention, he shoots the camera a peace sign, followed by a little heart, and then a cheek heart and now he’s a bunny and then—

you pull yourself away abruptly with a shaky laugh, “god, jeonghan, this isn’t a photoshoot.”

he laughs back, “ha ha, sorry, i can’t help myself. it’s so fun to tease you like this.”

you feel the blood rush to your face at that, so you turn to face the road completely, a weak, “fuck off” on your tongue. mingyu silently observes the interaction, not without a little side-eye that you don’t know what to think of. “you should get some rest, y/n, you didn’t sleep last night.”

you frown, surprised mingyu knows that and you don’t get to ask him why he knows that because jeonghan interrupts, “you guys sure are close. i was talking to hoshi the other day, he misses y’all a lot.”

“he does? he can just come talk to us whenever though,” mingyu replies, doubt tracing his tone. “i don’t think we’re exclusive like that.”

“right?” you agree, “we used to be so close to hoshi, too, and then he moved to the other side of campus this semester and now i have like one class with him.”

“i don’t know,” jeonghan says, “you should talk to him about it, but there’s always been something stronger about the two of you together.”

you shrug, “we always end up together. it’s not that deep i think. it’s just how it is.”

the topic ends there as jeonghan agrees and dozes off himself too. you, however, feel eerily awake. awake? no, more like unsettled. something in your nerves is off and you feel on edge. you’re a little spaced out after that, as you finally reach the city circle with all the shops crowded next to each other with a little mall in the center.

as everyone gets off and gathers their things, mingyu pulls you aside with a concerned look, “are you okay, y/n?” his grip on your elbow grounds you a little. you inhale, knowing better than to pretend in front of him, “yeah, just a little uneasy. i don’t know why. probably just tired.”

mingyu looks like he knows something more about your condition, “are you sure? we can take a break at one of the restaurants before shopping if you want?”

“nah, i’m okay, don’t worry. i’m a strong girl,” you smile, reasurring him with a pat to his chest, “i feel better now. thanks, mingyu.”

he frowns, hand loosening against your skin, “you never thank me, weirdo. don’t be so formal.”

“man, there’s no winning with you, is there?”

he chuckles as he pulls you after the others, “no, i’m insatiable.”

—

an hour into shopping, you realize why you hate doing this. everything is so overwhelming when you’re in the city, so many people, so many clothes. at least you have friends with you as you scan racks after racks, ending up with three potential dresses on your arm. you mutter a prayer in your head that you can find something nice here so you don’t have to walk more. this is already your third store.

the first one is a classic: a little black dress. it’s satin so it sits smooth against your skin and feels soft when you twirl around. it’s a little short for your liking, perhaps too tight against your ass. you turn to the side to get a better look. you take a photo and send it to mingyu, who you’d been going back and forth with. he’d last sent you a photo ten minutes ago: him in a stupid minion onesie. you’d cursed him out real well in response telling him to stop fucking around. he writes back fast.

big gyu: u look good

big gyu: kinda basic tho

you: yea i thought so too

you agree with that, putting the dress aside in case you don’t find anything else at all.

candidate number two is more over the top: a long red dress with little black patterns on it, with a leg slit on one side. getting into it was a whole struggle but you get it on finally. it fits well thanks to the slit which also shows off some skin. you’re hot in it: like literally. the long sleeves don’t help at all. but you look good too, the flare doing wonders for your figure. you pause, sending a photo hoping mingyu would be of help.

however, when mingyu takes longer than a minute to reply, you groan, already sweating a little. concluding that he’s probably changing or something, you peek out your curtain, hoping yunjin was still in the stall next to yours. you call out her name, straining your neck to see if there was anyone else you could ask for help.

you spot jeonghan walking around the shelves near the fitting rooms and before you can hesitate to call him over, he notices your head poking out. he raises an eyebrow, sending your heartbeat into a spiral. “y/n? do you need help?”

you clear your throat, “um, yeah, i need a second opinion on this dress.” jeonghan approaches your corner and you panic when he reaches for the curtain to draw it back. his eyes question you, “can i look?” you let go of it to let him in, a tiny little rational part of you wondering he needed to come inside the room to see.

“ohhh,” he exclaims as he takes you in, “you look amazing. told ya red was your color.”

you turn away from him a little, “this dress is hot.”

“it sure is,” he agrees and you blush harder, “no i meant, like literally. i’m so hot right now.”

jeonghan presses his lips together, giving away the fact that he understands but being the little bitch he is, he chooses the option that makes you wanna combust. he presses two fingers to your cheek and mumbles, “yeah, you are.”

you push his arm off, “yoon jeonghan! you’re such a damn flirt! get out of here.” you force him out of your space and he’s uncontrollably laughing as he lets you. “i’ve another dress to try so wait outside for me.”

“sure you don’t need a hand changing—”

“no, thank you very much!” you scream, greeted with more pleased chuckling. your phone buzzes, catching your attention. you lean down to look at it.

big gyu: niceee thats hot

big gyu: u should get this dress

big gyu: pls

you: …girl why are u begging me

big gyu: because.

big gyu: you’re getting this dress right

you: no i’d die of overheating in it

big gyu: and it’d be worht it

you: i dont like how enthusiastic u are about this...

you: wtv this one's rejected.

you: i still have another dress to try

you put your phone down to try the final dress. this one was a purple slip dress with white flower detailing. it was skin tight against your boobs and a little transparent, giving away your black bra underneath. and to contrast, it sat a little loose on your hips which was honestly not the worst look, keeping from the dress becoming too scandalous. you enjoyed this dress the most so far. that was enough, given the track record.

“you done, y/n?” you’re startled when the voice outside is mingyu’s instead of jeonghan. you pull back the curtains in confusion, “gyu? what’re you doing here?” mingyu stops short, “fuck, i like this one.” you flush a little when you notice his eyes settle on your chest for a beat too long. “that’s stunning, for real.”

you laugh. “look at you using big words. but yeah, i think this is the one.” you look over at him, “did jeonghan leave?”

“um, yeah, he said he had to use the washroom when i ran into him on the way,” he mumbles. you nod, a little relieved because you think you’d die if he saw you right now. “anyway, i’m offended you were showing him your dresses and then all i got was a photo.”

“hey, you were taking so long to reply that i had seek someone else out. he just happened to be her.”

mingyu ignores that and tells you to hurry up, “i need your help choosing something for myself.”

“ugh, alright, give me five.”

in the end, you decided you’d get both the classic black dress and the slip dress, you needed more dresses in general. wouldn’t hurt to have more. when you’re done checking out, you find mingyu in conversation with kazuha who’s smiling with a shopping bag in her hands.

“zuha, you get anything?” you ask. she nods eagerly, “yeah! i got this pink dress that jeonghan helped me find just now. it’s really pretty, i’ll show you later in the room.”

you falter a little at that, glancing at mingyu who’d told you he went to the washroom. ignoring the growing unsettling gut feeling, you inform her you’d found something too. “nice, we should have a try-on in the room later.”

“you guys!!” yunjin joins the group, “this is insane. i hit the jackpot and found the sexiest green dress ever.” you laugh, linking arms with her, “you should come over later and try it on with us.”

“ah, the beauty of womanhood,” mingyu grumbles beside you, and you shove him. “you’re not invited, pervert.”

his jaw falls open, “excuse me? what did you just call me?”

you press an index finger into his bicep, “don’t think i didn’t notice you checking my boobs out earlier.” mingyu’s cheek redden at the light-hearted accusation, worsening when jeonghan appears right at the climax of the argument.

“okay, okay, first of all, i wasn’t checking anything out!” he complains, “and-and well, they—”

jeonghan cuts him off, patting his back with an amused smirk, “it’s alright, buddy, it happens to the best of us.” everyone laughs at that, much to mingyu’s chagrin who then becomes pouty for the rest of the walk to the next shop.

“c’mon,” you pull him into the store, “my turn to stare at your tits.”

“god, would you drop it?” he groans as he follows you in. “it won’t happen again.”

you giggle, “it’s okay with me, gyu, because that just means the girls look good.”

he groans again, “i really don’t need to be a part of this.” he wanders off into the store, embarrassed. you let him go, looking at clothes for him separately. turns out shopping for mingyu is harder than the concept of it sounds. it doesn’t help that he’s an expert at criticizing the small detail in every item you choose for him. half an hour later, you’re tired of him.

as if on cue, kazuha calls you to tell you to come over to an asian restaurant nearby to grab lunch. you thank the lords as you pull mingyu away, “there’s nothing here for me anyway,” he grumbles as you meet up with the rest.

entering the restaurant, you spot kazuha and jeonghan at a table nearby. yunjin’s still on her way it turns out as you sit across from them, heart in throat for the worst reason possible: you’re jealous. you may be down bad for jeonghan but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost your ability to take a hint. trying to keep the thought from completely forming in your head, you make conversation with everyone, wanting to be better than this.

you want to avoid thinking about it so you’re quick to shut jeonghan off. he’s his usual self, joking around with everyone but he picks up when you’re not as receptive as usual. you hope he just thinks nothing of it, but you know that’s not possible when he approaches you after lunch as everyone else is washing up in the bathroom.

you’re outside alone, waiting, when he slightly pushes your shoulder to draw your attention. you gasp lightly. “jeonghan?”

“can i talk to you for a sec?”

you frown, “yeah, you’re talking to me right now.”

“come on, y/n, don’t be cold. let’s go for a walk.”

“but, the others—”

“i let mingyu know we’ll be back in a few.”

out of excuses, you silently follow jeonghan’s stride through the busy street. he makes conversation really well, easing you up in no time as he distracts you from what was on your mind. it’s illegal how smoothly he then proceeds to drop the act.

you’re laughing about what he’d said about hoshi’s drinking habits just now, when he suddenly goes serious, “i think i like kazuha.”

you freeze up at that, fighting the frown that itches closer, looking at him like you didn’t hear him. heart’s out of control right now, but at least you were already expecting this outcome. “huh?”

“sorry, i just thought you should know. i’m really into her and i was planning to ask her out sometime this week.”

you would love to pass away right now. immediately, you think you hate jeonghan for doing this to you. it’s clear from his behavior that he knows you like him and that he’s apologizing— he’s rejecting you before you have a chance to confess. he likes kazuha. he’s going to ask her out. you should know that.

you sputter awkwardly, “that’s great! good for you, jeonghan. and um, you really didn’t have to tell me. i’m sure kazuha would love to be with you.”

you never want to speak a word to anyone ever again and you're sweating ever so profusely, so you speed up a little, “and we should get going, no?”

sensing your mood, jeonghan follows along but says, “i’m sorry, y/n. i- i know you…”

you don’t let him finish because it would genuinely kill you to hear him say he knows you like him. “you don’t have to be sorry.” with that, you essentially leave your body. you move fast enough to reach the car, wordlessly getting into the passenger seat and yunjin somehow knows better than to fight you.

the car ride back is filled with music. not much chatter. you realize it’s partly your fault and silently dread being back in the room with kazuha, but to your relief, when you reach she doesn’t bring anything up. you’re too tired to do a try-on like you promised and when mingyu asks if you want to come over to his place, you tell him you’re feeling sleepy. and for once, you actually sleep after telling him that.

sleep is not as much of a comfort as you’d hope for it to be: less of an escape, more jeonghan-themed content. something about heartbreak and living the rest of your life, lovelessly.

—

the next week starts off hectic and you’re thankful for it this once. you could use the chaos of organizing an event to take your mind off things. a small part of you wonders if jeonghan was being merciful by letting you down and timing it so well. knowing him, that doesn’t seem so impossible.

you feel better than you’d imagined you would. you cried like once since the rejection. you didn’t need to worry much at this point, having realizing that it was less important that you’d made it out to be. mingyu, on the other hand, doesn’t give up his worrying, especially when he doesn’t see you until three days into the week. and that, too, because he gave up and thought it would be a good idea to invade your room, at one in the night.

his knocking wakes you up fairly quickly, since you’d only put your phone down a few minutes ago. you rush to the door, afraid of waking kazuha up. “what the fuck, mingyu?” you ask at the sight of him.

“what the fuck yourself! stop ignoring my messages maybe?”

you groan, stepping outside your room, feeling the cold air hit you in your night clothes. “why’d you have to confront me so late at night? can we do this tomorrow? when i’m coherent and not half-naked?”

mingyu falter as if he just realized the time, noticing your tank top and shorts. “i don’t care. i’ll give you my jacket but we’re doing this right here and right now.”

you sigh, knowing this was coming. “forget it, keep your jacket. i’ll go change and be right back.”

mingyu grabs your arm when you try to go back inside, “how do i know you’re not just gonna leave me here to die?”

“dude, my room’s right here. you can come watch me change if you fucking want.”

he lets you go, flustered when you offer and you laugh as you rush back in. in the darkness, kazuha’s voice startles you, “y/n? is everything okay? are you being abducted?”

“oh god, zuha, you scared me. and no, it’s just stupid little mingyu who wants to have a talk. i’ll settle this. go back to sleep.”

she groans, “god, you guys are just like my parents sometimes.”

you laugh at that as you slip into a hoodie and exchange your shorts for pajamas. when you return, mingyu’s sitting at the stairs in front of your room and you hit him in the back.

“ouch! fuck you!” he stands up with a glare, “also i heard what you said about me. why am i stupid and little? can you just choose one insult?"

“let’s go down if we’re gonna argue. zuha can hear us, too. and did you hear what she said after that?” when he seems clueless, you go on, “she said we remind her of her parents sometimes.”

he coughs, “her parents?? what are we, married?”

you roll your eyes, “married and sick of each other, apparently.”

“being zuha’s parents doesn’t sound so bad honestly. she’d be the easiest child to raise.”

“i feel like zuha would raise you if you were her father,” you laugh, “me too, probably.”

“who’d be the father then?”

your smile falls when an answer occurs to you, you mumble, “jeonghan,” sitting at a bench outside your dorm. mingyu joins you, equally solemn now.

“did something happen between you two?”

“yeah. he rejected me when we went shopping that day.”

mingyu’s eyes widen, “what? you confessed?”

you shake your head, a strained smile, “he already knew. i guess i was obvious, but it’s still driving me insane that he rejected me without even giving me a chance to confess.”

“i can’t believe he did that. that’s conceited as fuck.”

“conceited or impressive, i can’t decide. but he told me likes kazuha and that he’s sorry. i genuinely wanted to die when he said that. he was cool about breaking my heart, too. lowkey fell a little harder for him.” you laugh at your own joke, but mingyu looks unhappy, jaw clenched like he’d tasted something bitter.

you hit his arm, “it’s not a big deal, dude. i was thinking about it the past few days and i realized i barely knew the guy. i just knew what he told me over the last year.”

after a pause, “and he’s one beautiful man, so there was that.” you smile a little.

“but he didn’t have to do it like that. he could just stop flirting with you, you know, or wait for you to come around and confess like a normal person,” mingyu says, “he’s such a little jerk.”

“hey, it’s okay, a little flirting didn’t hurt anyone.”

“yeah but he was leading you on, leaving you in ambiguity by doing that. he should’ve been flirting with kazuha, not you.”

“okay, now that’s starting to hurt,” you whine, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, “but i can’t really blame him, no? kazuha’s so precious.”

“don’t be like that, y/n.”

“what? be like what?” you look up, “didn’t you also used to be into kazuha?”

mingyu bites his lip when you bring his years-old crush up, “when will you forget about that? that was so long ago and it was barely serious. she’s too nice to be my type.” (what does that even mean? you wonder but don't have the time to ask.)

“sure, you didn’t want to change residence halls to be closer to her?”

“alright, how many times do i tell you that i did that because of you? why do you never believe me?”

“it just makes more sense the other way,” you mumble, suddenly feeling teary-eyed and hating that you were feeling teary-eyed, which only intensified the teariness in your eyes. “god, this is stupid.”

mingyu’s arm is around in no time when he notices you curling up, your lip tucked between your lips in anticipation, “hey, hey, c'mon, i thought you said it wasn't a big deal. so how come you're crying?"

“because! i feel lame. and because kazuha’s perfect, by the way. she’d probably cry too if she knew i was crying.”

he pulls you closer, “you’re not lame, y/n. you think i’d keep you around so long if i didn’t think you were insanely cool?”

you breathe through your tears, “you just keep me around because i’m insane?”

“insanely cool! open your ears, idiot.”

“you just called me an idiot. idiots are pretty lame.”

he sighs when he feels his tshirt get damper, your body so weak under his hold. he pats your hair softly, “sorry, that’s not what i meant. but seriously, y/n, you know i’m bad at saying this stuff but i seriously cannot stress enough how highly i think of you.” his hand moves to rub your back, “and you’re so much more than perfect, you know? like sometimes you don’t do a paper till three hours before and still get an A. and then, you come up with comebacks to my arguments in your own unique ways, and trust me, nobody can argue with me like you do.”

you pull away, “all right, now you’re embarrassing me. why do i sound like a bossy nerd or something?”

“you can be that at times. hey, but you forgot the part where you’re hot as shit. and also pretty.”

“i feel like that last part was an afterthought, mingyu,” you bite back a laugh, “you really only keep me around for my tits, don’t you?”

“dude, can you let me wholesome for once? i’m trying to console you, so would you stop playing devil’s advocate?”

“sorry, i’m just,” you hesitate with a heavy sigh and then, you blurt out, "i’m scared i’ll never fall in love. i’ll never find it at all.”

“now that’s some stupid thoughts you’re having,” mingyu shakes you by the shoulders, “you’ve just been blinded by your crush on jeonghan for so long that you haven’t explored anyone else at all.”

“are you volunteering to be my crush right now?” you ask, jokingly.

mingyu’s smirk catches you off-guard, “what if i am? it wouldn’t be the worst thing if i was your boyfriend.”

you feel yourself heating up a little for some reason, head in a daze from his earlier shower of compliments and now this. so instead of trying to make sense of it all, you press yourself into him in a hug. “yeah, it wouldn’t.”

—

“hoshi, you little shit!” you throw yourself around the guy when you spot him on the night of the flea market, the product of a long and actually insane week. he laughs when he realizes it’s you, pulling you into a hug, “bro, y/n, why is this my first time seeing in you in literal years?”

“i don’t know, i just kinda see you walking around sometimes. maybe if you actually showed up to econ class, i’d see you more.”

hoshi flinches, “you can’t be bringing econ up right now. that class is kicking my ass. i can’t keep showing up to that kind of humiliation.”

the two of you catch up at last, as people swarm around the different stalls set up along the college street. you were relieved after having finished this damn event. cheers to sleep, right?

hoshi tells you all about his new situationship with a guy in another class and how he’s regretting inviting him to the party tomorrow night. “why? believe it or not, people are more fun when drunk.”

hoshi rolls his eyes, “yeah, well, i couldn’t get any more fun. so instead i become incontrollable. an absolute animal.”

“right, i remember that. so you’re scared you’re gonna drive him off? i wouldn’t worry honestly. and if you want, i can keep you in check.”

he narrows his eyes in distrust, “you? you’re not much better than me drunk, okay? i feel bad for mingyu who’s gonna have to take care of you the whole time.”

you gasp, “wow, you’re taking mingyu’s side now? over mine? i thought we had something special.”

“you thought wrong,” comes mingyu out of nowhere, slinging his arm around hoshi’s shoulders.

“why are you here suddenly?” hoshi looks between the two of you, “i couldn’t not come to an event my lovely y/n herself planned, could i?”

hoshi laughs, “nice to see you two as jolly as ever. but also i must take your leave. i gotta go grab dinner soon.”

“hey, why don’t you come with us? we were gonna check out the new outlet the college opened.”

“oh, i would love to but i have plans with someone already.”

you nod your head in realization, “right of course, have fun. not too much, though. leave some for tomorrow.” he leaves with a full-toothed smile and you face mingyu.

he playfully pinches your cheek, “you confront him about missing us yet?”

you raise a shoulder in response, and as the flea market starts to fizzle out thanks to the darkening sky, your stomach grumbles. “let’s eat, please.”

ever since that night— you don’t want to say anything had changed between you and mingyu because your friendship had been long enough that even the slightest shift in dynamics would harmoniously just become the new status quo; the two of you had been through a lot together. but ever since that night, you’d been fooling around with him more, if that was possible.

it was along the lines of: less banter, more flirting? although one might argue that the former was just a derivative of the other. but semantics aside, this is what you know to be true: friends flirt with each other all the damn time.

that’s what you’re telling yourself when mingyu asks you to feed him some of the fried rice you’d gotten on your plate. and it was true: you’re almost a 100% certain that you’d flirted with every friend of yours, and that was just how it worked.

but intimacy came differently to everyone and mingyu’s just manifested in clinginess. he was pressed to your side for the entirety of dinner, and you couldn’t complain about the proximity. it was welcome, even, this form of friendship.

“you’re thinking too hard.” mingyu’s voice pulls you out of your little reflection session. “what’re you even thinking about? you should be all burnt out from all the work you did this past week.”

“i am,” you affirm, “but some things just don’t let up.”

he chuckles, patting your head affectionately as if to persuade your thoughts to let up for a while. it doesn’t help really, only gravitating the direction of the said thoughts toward kim mingyu even more.

“maybe repetition isn’t as bad as i always make it out to be,” you say, chin propped up against your fist on the table. mingyu had chosen a corner table of the newly opened eatery, next to a low window that glowed behind you in the remains of sunset as he shifted to completely face you. the sun had finally set. again.

“you’re right. routine is good for people.”

“but it doesn’t have to stay the same forever, you know?”

“hm?” mingyu can’t help but feel like you’re edging toward some underlying topic. you were like this since he could remember: you’d start off with some abstract and vaguely relevant concept (that had no doubt been plaguing you for a long time) and slowly circle around till he caught onto what you meant. you love playing games with him.

“repetition doesn't have to be redundant? i think there's something more subtle about it.”

he doesn’t know where you’re going with this, “but repetition is literally the same thing over and over?”

“yeah, but the ‘same thing’ itself can evolve,” your fingers knock against his, “i don’t know, i was just thinking about… us.”

“us? i guess we would be a good example of repetition.”

your gaze falls from his to find your hand instead, your fingers wrapping around his wrist until you’ve forced his palm open. his hand in your lap upside down, you pull at the fingers, “yeah, but we’ve changed a lot. for one, we fight a lot less. sometimes when i’m going to tell you a thought, you understand mid-sentence what i mean.”

“yeah, well, that’s what we get for knowing each that long. but really, what’s this about, y/n?” he captures your hand in his expertly, pulling your attention back to his face.

“do you ever think we should be more?”

mingyu breathes a laugh at that, a shiver running down his spine when he spots the solemn look on your face. and then, his smile turns grave. “y/n, we’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?”

“have we? every time i’m the one who brings it up and you kinda just shrug it off. no, don’t even try to argue with me. you shrug the serious stuff off. always.”

it’s true, mingyu admits in defeat, mind racing as he considers why you’re bringing this up now. the answer is easy: you were finally available. but he doesn’t say it out loud, like he never does. you’d confronted him about the state of your friendship before, unafraid to wonder out loud what it would be like if you started dating. you’ve received all forms of shut-downs from mingyu before so you figured you were the only one in an ambiguous place about your feelings for him.

if someone was to ask if you like mingyu, you’d probably say yes, but it’s more than that. you know better than to blindly fall for him. witnessing him in his relationships before, you know he can be ruthlessly cold to his partner once he’s out of love. you practice romantic love for mingyu: carefully because too much would definitely be dangerous.

“i have my reasons, y/n.” there it is. the strict mingyu. the rigidity in setting his boundaries was something you admired and aspired for when he exhibited it in the past. right now, you want to punch him.

you’re without a filter with him so it’s unfair when he treats you like this. you let him know as much: “i want to punch you right now. i’ve hidden nothing from you, and yet, there’s this wall you keep yourself behind. is this really one-sided?”

mingyu doesn’t know what to do with you right now, “y/n, why are you—”

“no, because it's not like i can't take a hint. so one minute you're flirting with me and then, you push me away like right now,” you point to his estranged fingers, “but then you act like nothing happened and go right back to being all intimate and touchy.”

“i just…” mingyu lets out an exasperated sigh, “i just don’t see the reason for labels. why do we have force ourselves into a restriction like that? we’ve always been above conforming.”

it’s your turn to sigh heavy enough your head hits the wall behind you. wasn’t this just his way of friend-zoning you back into silence? you’ve always been too embarrassed to push him this far because you don’t mean to hurt him. but you feel as though you’ve hurt yourself long enough now.

“so why’d you say that the other night? that it would be nice if you were my boyfriend?”

this leaves him speechless for a few beats and you continue, “that was just because i was heartbroken from jeonghan? you’re playing prince charming for me so i can go back to being your trusty little best friend?”

“y/n, you know that’s not true. i’m not playing anything in your life. i’m just being myself.”

you scoff, “you really are so fucking—”

“why are we actually fighting right now?” mingyu asks through an incredulous laugh, “this is actually so petty, dude, let’s stop. you know i love you, right?”

mingyu’s last resort makes its presence: a non-committal i love you. because at the end of the day, you’re still best friends. what was a little ‘i love you’ in today’s economy? nothing. especially when you’d hear him throw the phrase around all the time.

you stand up in defeat, “fine, let’s stop. you win.” you gesture for him to move to the side and he does so reluctantly when you glare at him like you’re genuinely mad. (you are.)

he follows you out the door, catching your elbow to slow you down. “don’t be like this. i know you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not mad. i'm tired and i just want to go back to my room,” you seethe, walking faster than him. he grabs hold of your shoulder turning you around.

“if you’re gonna storm off, at least go the right way.” you huff softly and let him steer you the right way to your dorm, hands still on you. you spend the way to the front of your room silently, waiting for mingyu to say something but he just does what he does best: take care of you.

as you reach the door of your room, he pauses, apologetic smile on display. “listen, let’s talk more tomorrow? get some sleep.” he reaches for your hair, tenderly running his fingers through the locks. there it is: the soft mingyu, his eyes wide as he stares you down for signs of stress.

his warm arm pressed againsts yours, you realize you don’t want him to just leave. you know the drill: tomorrow morning, he’ll text you to meet for lunch and everything will go back to being unsaid. maybe he’ll bring along seungcheol so you don’t bring anything up again. either way, it’ll be so natural you’ll think nothing ever happened. but you want something to happen.

so your hand settles around his bicep to hold on and partly to keep him in place. you lean in, “let me do one last thing and if you want to stop, i’m never bringing this up again. i promise.”

you don’t give mingyu a moment to react to your words and instead raise yourself up to his level, other hand on his chest, and press your lips to his. you kiss mingyu after the thirteen years that you’ve known him and the ten that you’ve wanted to. you counted the years just as you count the seconds that it takes for him to come to his senses and pull himself away.

he looks less upset than you imagined: more dazed. like he can’t believe what you’ve done. he looks at you with his lips parted and you have to tear your gaze apart, lest you should tear yourself apart with longing.

“y/n, i…” he looks away and that’s enough evidence you need. you step away from him, your easy smile back in its place, not before you pat his arm as it falls from you.

“it's okay. i understand. let’s be friends, mingyu,” you declare suddenly, catching him off-guard. you'd pulled all the stops and if he genuinely was uncomfortable with pushing the line between platonic and romantic, you would respect that.

he begins to say something but you don’t want to hear him speak, at least not right now when the sound of blood rushing to your head is the loudest it's ever been, and you certainly don’t want to falter again. you’ve decided. “good night."

—

mingyu should feel relieved. he really should be happy that you’re back to normal around him, friendly and playful like you’ve always been. he should count his blessings that you’ve accepted the status of your relationship with him as it is. but as he falls asleep that night, all that comes to his mind is the smile you’d sported as you asked to be friends.

it was all wrong: your lips against his, that was something of his dreams, not a reality he has to be escaping from. it replays in his head, your scent that he’d caught a whiff of now and then, whenever you’d wrap your arms around him. the heat of your skin he’d rationalize as the comforting presence of a friend for days later.

he’ll soon come to know how insanely stupid he’s being right now but until you knock some sense into him, he simply plays along with a sting he hides pretty well. he should, he’s been doing it for years now.

it’s the night of hoshi’s party already and he’s walking over to the location of the pregame, alone because according to a text fifteen minutes ago, you’re still not ready. you’d invited yunjin and some other friends to your and kazuha’s abode to apparently make the process easier, but if mingyu knows anything about the group, you’ve probably spent more time selecting the right song to play than get ready.

the door to dino and hoshi’s shared residence is already open as he strolls in, finding a group already on the floor, taking shots. he makes eye contact with jeonghan who beckons him closer and mingyu takes a seat next to him.

space is scarce so mingyu finds his arm pressed uncomfortably close to jeonghan’s, who oohs at mingyu’s fit, “ooh, you look positively sexy.”

mingyu grimaces, “do you have to put it like that?” he does look … positively sexy, mingyu admits, in the navy blue shirt he wore but— and here’s the punchline— with the buttons undone all the way to right above his navel.

“where’s y/n, by the way?” jeonghan asks, an eye at the entrance as he slides a shot glass toward mingyu. the question irks mingyu for obvious reasons and he keeps him waiting for a minute, waiting to down the liquid in glass (vodka unfortunately for his throat) to answer him. “um, she’s still getting ready. any minute now.”

“ha, that means she’ll be another ten. that’s a shame, i was hoping to pour her first shot.” jeonghan shrugs resentfully.

maybe the alcohol’s working faster since it’s been a while for mingyu, but his mouth runs faster than his head, “why’d you care? i thought you asked kazuha out a while ago.”

jeonghan raises a brow at that, “hmm. i did. but things did not work out so well. what with kazuha feeling guilty about y/n and… well, i also…”

“feel guilty?” mingyu asks, voice strained. he’s annoyed at having to listen to jeonghan’s side of the story. he could not care less about humanizing him and whatnot. he’s watched you suffer for far too long to be empathetic right now.

“yeah. and i thought i might like y/n, too, after all.” jeonghan says it so casually as if discussing his performance in a particularly challenging college course, not his feelings for a person who he’d recently rejected.

the word might pierces mingyu’s ears. the uncertainty behind it is in such stark contrast to his own… feelings toward you that he genuinely feels his breath heat up.

or maybe that’s just jeonghan when he leans over to refill his glass. “drink up, buddy.” mingyu’s just about ready to make a scene right now, shoving jeonghan’s hand off his back but suddenly jeonghan’s standing up, making his way to—

you. you’re here.

almost as soon as he catches sight of you, he looks away, pretending to give the vodka in his hand all the attention in the world, as he puts his lips to it and empties it. head is now light. that’s probably enough for now, he decides as he puts his glass down.

when he looks back up, you’re at the kitchen counter with yunjin and kazuha.. and jeonghan, who’s grinning as he hands out the bottles of fireball to the group, no doubt marketing it so convincingly that you’d think you came up with the idea yourself.

mingyu shoots to his feet, regretting it when his vision darkens but he pushes past, eyes focused on your figure— god, he forgot how hot you look in that dress. he tries to keep his thoughts in check as he approaches you, but it doesn’t help that your makeup’s even more meticulous than usual, eyes glittering and lips delightfully glossy.

he breaks into the space between you and jeonghan, arm against yours, catching your attention.

“my guy!!” you exclaim when you see him and then your eyes trail down to his chest and then back up to his face where his hair sits parted with the help of some gel. “you look like a slut. i love it.”

mingyu laughs, subjecting you to a similar once-over, “you’re one to talk.” your hair’s back in a bun of sorts, a rare occurrence because you seem to prefer have it around your face. he can’t help but pause at your exposed collarbones, the gold shadow you applied there earlier doing wonders to his already dazed headspace.

“is it already that part of the night where mingyu starts hitting on everyone?” yunjin complains, reserving the alternate version of her question (something along the lines of how impolitely he’d been eye-fucking you in front of everyone) for some other time as she nudges you to open the fireball in your hands.

you do so, looking at jeonghan who offers one to mingyu, which he refuses as he leans against the counter, hand silently at your back just in case. “you’re not drinking?” you ask, quietly enough only for the two of you, just in case he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“nah, i just had two shots of vodka back there. trying not to mix for the sake of me tomorrow,” he mutters, patting your back encouragingly, “but let me know if you need help finishing that.”

jeonghan eyes mingyu on the side as the trio clink their bottles together and get to downing them. later, as things start picking up and more people make their way into the party, mingyu finds your arm. “do you want me to stay close by?” he frames the question in a way that you have an out, because he can tell that you’re still unhappy with him.

but you’re tipsy when your hand interlocks into his, “only if you’re going to dance like you mean it.”

the night goes better than you expect it to, especially since mingyu’s let loose for once. or perhaps… he’s always this carefree when drunk, palms kneading at your waist, keeping you close to his chest, which you try your best to not get too used to touching. he sure knows how to keep you on your toes (sometimes literally) even when wasted because you’re trying not to get too close. for you own sake.

that is until hoshi shows up beside you two, pulling you apart as he introduces you to a friend.. or a partner? you can’t hear in this state and just as you try to lean in closer to hear what he’s saying, you feel a presence at your shoulder, fingers poking you.

you turn to find jeonghan behind you, sloppy smile on his face as he screams something at you. you frown, asking him to repeat himself, hand on his bicep to steady yourself against the movement of the party.

“need to talk to you about something!” his words come at you, clearer. “right now?” you shout back, “what the fuck is it?” your body doesn’t want to stop moving so you groove against his side, and momentarily catching a glimpse mingyu’s heavy gaze on you. you almost completely stop then but jeonghan’s pulling you away, after him to a relatively emptier zone of the house.

you’re breathless, you realize, now that the spell of the music’s been broken. you rest against the damp wall behind you, uncaring as you look around for a liquid to quench your thirst. cunning as ever, jeonghan’s already handing you a plastic cup with a transparent liquid.

you narrow your eyes at him despite how wasted you are. “what’s this?”

he laughs, “i’m glad you’re vigilant as ever. this is water. cold. drink up.”

you comply, your throat throbbing ever so lesser after you’re done and you sigh in relief. “you might have broken my heart but you’re still an angel, jeonghan.”

“ahhh,” he exclaims joining your side against the wall. you frown when you take note of his fingers clasped together, almost fidgeting. yoon jeonghan, fidgety? that’s a first for you.

“actually, that’s what i wanted to talk to you about…”

when mingyu looks away from hoshi and his company to see if you were listening and when he finds out that you’re in fact in jeonghan’s embrace, he’s suddenly sober. and when your eyes find his for a moment, something in them changes and he calls out your name like a warning. but then jeonghan’s already leading you elsewhere.

mingyu wants to follow after you immediately but he realizes hoshi’s still talking to him. “hoshi, bro, can i find you in a while? i gotta make sure y/n’s okay.”

but hoshi stops him in his tracks, hand on his chest, “wait. please tell me you told her…?” he trails off uncertainly as mingyu catches on what he’s saying.

“i haven’t,” he admits, eyes still searching the crowd for you, “but i think it’s time that i do. only so much i can take.”

“that’s the spirit, man! okay, now go kiss y/n for me.” hoshi pushes mingyu with a start, not before the the latter shoots the man a glare and takes off in his search for you.

you’re still in that corner with jeonghan, who’s done narrating the past week’s revelations to you, all about his failed attempts with kazuha and his slow understanding of his real feelings about you. you’re far more unaffected that either of you was expecting, arms crossing in thought.

but then you say, “well, that’s fucking stupid. because i’ve realized i wasn’t as down bad for you as i once thought i was.” jeonghan’s smile falls a little with a disappointed sigh. “but,” you continue, “you know what i’m still curious about?”

when your hand creeps up jeonghan’s shoulder, he thinks he knows where you’re going with this. “i’ve wanted know if you’re really as good at kissing as everyone makes you out to be.” jeonghan’s already moving closer to you, enveloping your face in his hands, and his devilish grin’s spills out as his lips find your ear. “let’s find out?”

and that’s how mingyu finds you wrapped around jeonghan, making out like this was your last day living. and for a moment, he considers giving up and letting you have this. he even stops in his tracks in the crowd, his thoughts so easily drowned out by the music if he just lets go.

but his mind’s reeling when the sight of you kissing someone else just pushes him back a day ago when you were leaning up into him, soft breaths risking your lips against his and the way your body pressed into his just right. his feet move without a thought, then, shouldering through the bodies around the two in the corner.

you’re just pulling away from jeonghan to start to say something about how that wasn’t too bad when his body is lifted away from yours with an unannounced jerk. you gasp and then once again when mingyu’s face comes floating in front of yours.

“mingyu,” you breathe, unsteady from the series of events this past minute, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he screams in your face, hands on both arms to keep you from moving. jeonghan’s walking to your side and you want to say something to apologize but you’re far too infuriated with the man in front of you to think.

“i don’t know! trying to get laid? finding happiness? love?!” you scream back with as much force. you call out jeonghan’s name, “i’m sorry. mingyu’s too drunk to—”

“jeonghan,” warns mingyu when the guy tries to break you free from his embrace, “can i have a minute with y/n.” it isn't a question.

jeonghan has the nerve to say, “maybe not. i wouldn’t leave you alone with her in this state.”

“oh, she’ll be just fine,” he replies and jeonghan simply looks at you for confirmation. but you’re still looking at mingyu, starting to tear up, head throbbing all at once. you stop fighting against his grip and mumble in defeat, “whatever.”

“if you’re going to lecture me about being bad, i don’t really want to hear it.” you’re back next to the kitchen counters with mingyu beside you. slowly, you sit yourself up on the surface, feeling exhausted. “i’ve heard it before.”

“no, that’s not what i’m doing. i just want you to stop and think clearly—”

you groan when you hear the beginnings of a typical you’ll regret this in the morning type talk, you slide off the counter and to your delight, you run into a guy holding up a can of beer for the taking. you’re quick to jump at it, grabbing it up from him and pulling the tab of the can open. just as you put the beer to your lips, ready to chug it, you feel it being pulled away, the next few moments occuring before you can comprehend anything.

suddenly you’re sitting back on the counter and your dress rides up when you feel mingyu push himself in between your legs. at first, you see his face close on yours and then the taste of beer meets your throat. no, it’s not just beer— it’s mingyu. his tongue spills onto yours, beer mixing with saliva and when you try to pull away, his hand at your neck tightens. you sit up straight and you feel his watch digging into your spine.

your head spins when you can finally breathe, inhaling only to cough out. heart in your throat, you look at mingyu in disbelief, “what the fuck!” but he’s already taking another sip of the beer and some of it slides down your throat into your dress, when his mouth finds yours again.

you’re weak in his arms, and the heat between your legs is only so rational. so you find yourself giving in and kissing him back when the liquid runs out, nails finding his scalp, earning you a deep groan that vibrates against your chest. that’s when he pulls away again, eyes finally meeting yours with an unprecedented intensity.

he leans in again, wet kiss against your cheek, followed by a grunted whisper of, “i love you so fucking much, y/n. it’s so hard to watch you run around with other men.”

you want to think you’re hearing things but mingyu doesn’t let you, another kiss right in the nape of your neck that sends shudders down your back. “i want to be yours so fucking bad. want to spoil you like you deserve.”

you swallow against the moan that rises in your throat, to pull mingyu’s face back to your eye-level, “then why aren’t you mine? why’d you push me away?” your voice breaks, betraying the pretense of indifference you try to prop up. his eyes soften, fingers brushing against your forehead.

his lips quiver and he sighs defeatedly. it’s a miracle you can hear him with all that noise around you. but you hear him clear as day against your hair when he finally says, “i’m scared. of loving you too much, of being too much. and i’m scared of losing you.”

mingyu’s imagined telling you these exact words before and how you’d react to them infinite times before but when you giggle into his collarbone, he pulls away with a blank look. your forehead is against his all over again and for the second time night you say, “that’s fucking stupid! if you were going to lose me, it would’ve happened a while ago.”

of all the things he’d imagine you saying in response, this was the simplest option, so unlike your usual overthinking self. maybe it’s the alcohol and adrenaline in your system speaking but mingyu somehow feels comforted, because maybe it really is that simple. it would’ve happened if it was going to. or maybe mingyu’s too drunk to make sense of it all right now.

so his lips are moving against yours once again, without warning, your breath all his when his arms tighten once against around you. you’re laugh grounds him enough to break away. you open your mouth to complain about the distance when mingyu’s back against your skin.

“shut the fuck up,” he groans, the command making you hotter than you’d like to admit. your legs close around his ass, pulling him closer and his hand slips across your boobs. the friction of his palm against the tight fabric of your dress makes you let out an undignified moan into mingyu.

that’s when he knows he needs to take you to somewhere more private for reasons more than one. you’re too lightheaded to move yourself so mingyu’s carrying out the house without a word anyone you two came with. it’s only when the cold air hits you that you realize you’re outside.

you struggle against mingyu until you're back on your feet and stop. “where are we going? i’m— do i know you, mister guy?” for a second, mingyu’s heart sinks when he wonders if you thought you were just making out with a stranger. then, you say, “i need to go back and find mingyu. gotta kiss him.”

ignoring the blush that colors his face, he grabs hold of your elbow, “i am mingyu, idiot. and we’re going to my room.” you shake your head to clear your vision, eyes widening when you recognize him. your hand finds his face with a light laugh, “ah! it’s my big guy.” the name doesn’t help mingyu’s condition at all, so he’s pulling you after him faster than before.

back at the party, kazuha starts panic when she realizes she’s lost hold of you, unable to locate you anywhere within the party. she tugs at yunjin’s sleeve who looks over in concern, “what happened to y/n? i can’t find her anywhere.” yunjin laughs at that, covering her mouth with her hand. “don’t worry about her. i saw her and mingyu leave together earlier. she’s probably in heaven by now, if i’m right.”

“hmm?” kazuha pauses as a thought pops up into her head, “wait… did they…?” yunjin grins knowingly, “yup. it really was high time they fucked.” the former lets out a satisfied giggle, “i know. they were so obvious without even being together. i was getting tired.”

“you were getting tired?!” you gasp at mingyu later in the night, panting against his pillow. you’re on your back and he throws you a tshirt of his to sleep in now that your dress is… demolished. you look at it sadly out of the corner of your eye. “i really liked that dress,” you whine, as he picks the remains of it up with a somewhat smug grin, “planned to wear it out again.”

“i couldn’t risk that. you looked too good in it,” he chuckles to himself as he jumps into bed with you. you sit up, feigning anger as you slip the cotton over your head, warming up when the smell of mingyu greets you. “i don’t know if i could resist seeing your tits out like that.”

you hit his chest hard with a lighthearted scoff, “i knew it! you’re such a pervert. not just a pervert, you’re also a brute.” you groan as you rub your thighs together gingerly. mingyu props himself up, pulling you down into a hug, rubbing your back. “sorry, does it hurt a lot?”

“it’ll hurt more in the morning,” you relax in his arms, pressing a loving kiss into his hair, “should’ve known you went so rough. asshole.” you giggle when he pulls away in disbelief at the last insult.

“how could you—!” you roll away from him, laughing. he shifts closer, caging you against the wall behind you, “hey, you can’t say stuff like fuck i knew you’d have a big dick and then expect me to go all vanilla! do you know what that does to a guy?”

you shriek in embarrassment, “don’t bring that up now!” your ears redden when mingyu forces you by the chin to look up at him. “besides, where do you think the nicknames like big gyu and big guy came from?”

mingyu’s jaw falls open at the revelation and you break out into a fit of laughter at his mindblown expression. “how- how long have you been thinking about my di-”

you hit him to stop him, “ever since you kept pushing me away,” you run a hand down his side, sly grin on your swollen lips, “and i had to come up with something if i wanted to get myself off alone.”

with an exasperated groan, he falls against you, suffocating you as his body goes limp above yours. you let out a gasp when you feel him hardening against your leg and he speaks into your neck, “you’re seriously telling me i’ve been missing out on taking you like this for… for how long now?”

you kiss his cheek, hand slipping down his boxers with a soft exhale, “a while. and if you hadn’t come to your senses today… well, i’d all but given up on you today. when jeonghan kissed me, i was just going to—”

suddenly your breath escapes you, mingyu’s hand around your throat and his lips on yours with a loud grunt. he stops your hand in its movements, “please tell me you’re not talking about jeonghan while— fuck!” he gasps when you bite his lower lip to protest his hand on yours. his hand gives way and you’re palming the tent in his boxers again, pushing him down against the bed, so thankful he doesn’t have a rooommate in times like this.

you place a kiss at the corner of his lips and trail down his chest, shirt long gone, before muttering, “forgive me?”

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

i really want to write a more wholesome ending but have not the time or energy right now, so i'll be back with a shorter spin-off/ epilogue of sorts about how you and mingyu as a couple work out, how your friends react, some skinship, etc.

anyway, this is my official announcement that i've become a baby carat :] didn't know how much i was missing out on before svt so this is very fun. so far, jeonghan's my favorite little guy, although as is clear from this... mingyu makes me do things. on the roster are: minghao and joshua. hopefully there will be more svt fics in the future. no promises <3 goodbye friends and foes!!

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rogueddie · 6 months

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Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

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pynkfairyheart · 4 days

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pairings: eren x virgin!reader

warnings: smuuttt 18+

Stress Reliever

“Mama, calm down” Eren followed as you paced around the room, before plopping down onto the bed, a pout resting on your face.

“But Eren, what if I fail?” Tears of frustration building in your eyes. Tomorrow was the day you presented your capstone project, and reasonably you were stressing.

Eren had been doing his best to calm your nerves all week, giving you massages, making your meals, and helping you study. It just wasn't enough for you though, you were too nervous.

“Baby, you're not gonna fail, you're the smartest girl I know, and we've been over it a thousand times, I know you're gonna do great you just have to believe in yourself, baby”

“Let's just go over it one more time” You stood, immediately silenced when he lifted you up and laid you back down on the bed, hovering over you as he started to litter kisses onto your face.

“Stop worrying ma, you'll do great, just relax” His grip tight as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, spreading them to make room for himself.

This simple action having your heart race. Despite being together for almost a year nothing happened between you two. Mainly because you both wanted to build a relationship that wasn't based on sex, but also because you were nervous. He was your first everything, and as gut wrenching it was to say, you weren't his.

“Eren” Your breath hitched as his bulge brushed against the crotch of the thin fabric that made up your pajama shorts.

“You gotta relax, ma. You gone let me help you?” He murmured as he kissed his way down your neck.

Maybe this is what you needed, your anxiety to just flow out of you with a mind boggling orgasm.

“Yes” You released a breath.

“Good girl” He smirked kissing you once more before he undressed you, savoring the way you squirmed underneath him.

“You're so beautiful, mami” He whispered as he took his time exploring every inch of your body with his hands and mouth before stopping right in front of your pajama clad pussy, traces of your arousal seeping through the fabric.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your pants as he tugged them down, your clit slightly peeking out from behind your glistening folds.

“She's so pretty, baby,” He groaned, his thumbs spreading your folds apart as he pressed light kisses to your clit.

“Eren” You silently begged for more friction.

Indulging in your neediness he licked up a long stripe of your arousal. Strings of the fluid mixture connecting his tongue to your pussy.

“Shit, baby, you taste so good.” He dug his fingers into your thighs, burying his face into your folds.

His tongue flicked against your clit, teasing you with each lap before sucking softly, tongue swirling around the bud as your hips bucked. The flat muscle slurping up long stripes of your pussy.

“Fuck, Eren oh my god” You heaved, hands pushing the loose hair out of his face.

He hummed in approval, the vibration sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sound of his name leaving your lips only spurred him on as he sucked harder, teeth grazing the sensitive bud lightly.

“I'm so close, pa” You whined, looking down at him, his eyes closed as he ate you like a starved man.

Your thighs closed around his head as a response to the tightening knot in your tummy, the bite he delivered to your inner thigh releasing a yelp from your glossy lips as you opened them wide. The glare he sent your way turning you on more than it should.

“Let go mama, I'm here” His low voice muffled by your folds as he added a thick digit into your sopping pussy, walls clamping around it at the curl of his fingers and his tounge tracing a zigzag pattern on your clit, before he sucked on the pulsing bud.

“Papa” You cried as he slurped up the juices flowing from your pussy.

“Wait, pa, I can't- too much” You protested, thighs clamping around his head as he lapped at your pussy, sliding in another digit.

“Just one more ma, you taste so good” He licked the insides of your thighs, before pushing them up to your chest.

“And don't close your fucking legs again”

˚୨୧⋆.

“Did so good for me, pretty” He panted after ripping two more orgasms from you. Kissing and licking his way up your body, before he engulfed you in a passionate kiss, your taste lingering on his tongue.

“Need you inside, now. Please papa” You begged.

“Are you sure?” Despite just sucking your soul from your pussy, he was still a sweetheart. Green eyes rapidly scanning your face for any sense of doubt.

“Yes, please” You tugged on his shirt revealing the sight sheen of sweat on his toned muscles.

“I'll go slow, but all you have to say is stop and I will okay?” He reached down into his sweats, stroking himself before pulling them down. Boy was he hung, prominent veins along the circumference of his dick, and his red tip leaking pre-cum from the occasional grind he delivered to the mattress while having you cream on his fingers.

“Okay” You let out a shaky breath, nerves rising as he rubbed his tip through your folds, collecting your slick before lining up with your entrance.

“Don't worry baby, just relax for me” He whispered in the crook of your neck as he pushed himself in.

The stretch was borderline unbearable as you felt him slide into your walls. He was thick, and having a hard time moving an inch without you squeezing him so tight.

“Relax princess, let me in” He whispered, taking note of your nails breaking the skin of his back, and your furrowed eyebrows as you tried to adjust.

“M’trying s’jus too big” You practically cried.

“I know, mama. Wanna stop?” He pressed loving kisses to your forehead.

“No, no I can take it. Just keep going” He went slowly, taking his time to minimize the discomfort, and look for any signs of pain as he nestled in between your legs, tip brushing against your cervix.

“Doing so good for me, princess. Just relax” He soothed once you gave him the green light to move.

Before you knew it he was whispering nasty things into your ear as he pounded into you, your second orgasm from his thrusts building in your lower stomach.

“Taking this dick so good for me, ma. Fat ass pussy squeezing me so tight” He grunted, tits bouncing at his feverish movements.

The room was hot and filled with your moans, and slapping skin as Eren pounded into you. He was slowly losing control, relishing in the way your pussy welcomed him in, the white creamy stickiness at the base of his cock having his brain go fuzzy. His only objective to have you cum on his dick over and over again till you were fucked senseless.

“Papa t-too much- mhmph too deep” You cried, despite wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer.

“S'too deep? Thought you could take it, baby. Thought you were my good girl” He faked his concern, bullying his dick into your warm walls.

“I am” You pouted, nails digging into his biceps as he pressed down on your chubby tummy, smirking when he felt his dick poking his hand.

“Then nut on your dick, mama. Be a good girl for daddy” The dam breaking immediately when he rubbed tight circles on your clit.

“Shit” He moaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he painted your walls with his sticky cum.

“Did so good, baby” He whispered in between kisses as he fucked his load back into you.

“S-sensitive, pa” You whined as you pushed his hips away, earning a pinch to your hand and fake pout.

“I know” He faked sympathy, pushing your legs up against your chest.

“But I want you to do well tomorrow, lemme make sure I fucked all the anxiety outta you. Yeah?”

wrote for my babes who needed an eren during their finals week cause ik i needed one ૮꒰ྀི˶˃ ⌓ ˂˶꒱ྀིა

anywayssss i gotta question. does anyone have any tips on how to length the smutty scenes i feel as if they're too short but im not 100% sure on how to add more detail. any feedback is appreciated mwah<333

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eustasskidagenda · 7 months

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anon asked: Hi! I just read your Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji hc with a s/o afraid of having sex and I just loved it! Your writing is amazing and I really enjoyed it. I struggle with vaginismus so I pretty much know how stressful this situation could be. But I’m actually curious to request you the same hc but with much BIGGER boys, especially Doflamingo, Crocodile and Katakuri. Please feel free to add other big men bc I honestly can’t get enough of them.😭😭😭

Hi hi! So I feel really dumb because I accidentally deleted the request, but luckily, I had copied/pasted the text of my doc before. But sorry, anon D: Anyway, thank you so much for liking my work and for requesting! That was pretty fun to write. I decided to add King and the sweet Corazon. And before starting, please have a look at this, lol. Those guys are so BIG, help.

☆Doflamingo, Crocodile, Katakuri, King & Corazon with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW (generals) : smut, MDNI, v!sex, f!reader, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), size kink

WC : Oh my God, I got carried away... 4,3k. Enjoy. :D

⇢ You can read the part one here & the part three here

Doflamingo

CW : a lot of teasing, creative use of devil fruit, slight praise, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, pet name

Doflamingo is, let's say, complicated. Of course, he considers you as a part of the Donquixote family, and he cares deeply about his close ones. But, on the flip side, he can't help but love when people are stressed or afraid because of him. It plays with his constant need for dominance. So first, he would grin, almost laugh, and be extremely pleased with himself. "My poor little bird is afraid… because of my size?" While running his fingers along the length of his cock through his pants. "I'll make it good for you, don't worry, just leave it to me."

Doflamingo craves dominance, so he would be more than satisfied with this situation, his eyes roaming over your body with eagerness. He's a really patient man and also loves to play and tease you all the time. "Lay down comfortably on the bed." He would say, placing his heavy, large hands on either side of your hips, slowly pushing you down on the mattress, his eyes shining with nothing but pure desire.

He loves how tiny your body looks when he's towering over you. It makes you look so vulnerable. Oh, sure, he loves when his s/o is smaller than him. Again, it plays with his constant need of domination. He finds it fascinating that he could destroy you with one hand. Luckily, you're his precious bird, so he would probably play with you and inflict some pain on you, but only what you're able and willing to take.

His hands would be surprisingly feather-light while running all over your body, tracing all of your curves, and fondling your breasts. Then, pinching your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and index, delighted by all of your shivering and sighs.

"Mh, you're so needy, y/n" with a low, teasing laugh as he slowly runs his fingers down your trembling thighs, tracing along the sensitive skin before slowly, really slowly reaching for your wet folds. He would smile, his eyes fixed on your pussy, fascinated by how needy you are already for him. But that's not enough. He is eager for more. "So pretty"

He would begin to tease you mercilessly, tracing soft patterns on your inner thighs and lower-belly. He likes to play with anticipation. He's not the kind of man who just roughly and mechanically slides his fingers inside you. Without teasing, there's no fun.

The more you squirm and moan, the more he's pleased, watching your pussy becoming more and more wet.

"So eager already." Purring close to your ears, making you shiver even more, leaving a trail of goosebumps along your spine. "What should I do now? What do you want y/n, my tongue or my fingers?"

You'll have both in the end, so don't worry.

It's clear that Doflamingo has mastered using his long tongue. And the same applies to his fingers always fidgeting when he uses his devil fruit. He's probably a master when it comes to fingering and oral sex. So he would slowly sink between your thighs, licking your soft skin before finally allowing you to feel his tongue against your sensitive folds, keeping your thighs open enough for him with his heavy hands.

You just can't help but arch your back as he eats you out, turning you into a whining and moaning mess. He would drink your juice as if it was a precious wine. "That's it", humming against your slit, licking your clit. Slowly, he would slide a thick finger inside of you. His mind would probably be a bit dizzy, thinking about how good he would feel with his cock inside of your tightness.

"You're so responsive, little bird," before adding another finger and hitting that sweet spot, still licking your clit.

And he won't stop until you cum all over his tongue and fingers. "Good girl"

With eyes darkened with desire, he would finally removing his pants, his heavy and extremely long cock springing free, leaking in pre-cum and twitching in anticipation. You can't help but look at his length, stressed. "Do you like looking at my big cock, little bird? Does it turn you on to know that I'm going to fuck you senseless?" So sure, he would grin again before lying on his back and letting you ride him.

He perfectly knows how to control himself so he won't just push roughly while you line your pussy with his cockhead, trying to brace yourself-up. You definitely want to do it, but you feel nervous. "Need some help, little bird?"

As you nod, he would use his devil fruit to guide you. With one broad hand wrapping around your waist and the other guiding the strings, he would slowly force your hips to move down, impaling you on his breathtaking thickness, his eyes sparkled with mischief. That's the moment you would see him lose his grin as he can't handle how tight and wet you feel all around him. "So tight…"

"You can take more?" As long as you tell him to keep going, he would continue to guide your hips down his length, groaning softly, with his hand fondling the flesh of your waist. "That's it, take it, take it all."

As you start to moan, he would say "What's up little bird, you love how well I am stretching you?"

And as you slowly get used to his cock stretching your walls, his cock throbbing inside you, Doflamingo would nicely use his strings to guide you moving up and down, delighted by the sloshing noises. The way your core swallows his length would be mind-blowing for him. The sight of your wetness covering his cock every time you move up and down is something he would love to see more often. Be prepared to entertain your king again.

Crocodile

CW : slight domination kink, praises, he's smoking because well it's Crocodile, oral sex (Crocodile receiving), slight hair pulling, using of his hook in a slight creative way but nothing extreme, belly bulge, unprotected sex

Another DILF and dominant man.

Crocodile is a silent man. So the second you tell him you're nervous because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and that you're also nervous because he's both long and thick, he would just raise an eyebrow. Just like Doflamingo, he would love the feeling of you being intimidated, because Crocodile definitely has a thing (and a kink) for dominance. He likes when you acknowledge his rank and qualities.

"You're afraid because of my size?"

He would lead your hand until you reached his cock. "If you're nervous, then you have to become familiar with it." So he would feel the girth and the veins, breathing deeply, delighted by the sight of your small hands trying to correctly wrap his thickness. "That's it, y/n. Touch it and get used to it. Soon, it will be all within you."

He would talk with his usual deep, raspy, and calm voice, the one that always sends shivers down your spine. And sure, he would act all dominant, smoking his cigar while you try so hard to satisfy him. Of course, he would look down at you. You are in his hands. So let go of all your intrusive thoughts and just focus on him. Only him.

"Suck it."

He would watch closely as you try to wrap your tongue around his cock, tracing all the veins, and licking hungrily all the pre-cum leaking from his cockhead. He would grab a hand from your hair with his heavy and broad hand, leading your head back and forth, while watching you drool and struggle to breathe all over his cock. He would slowly lose his composure, sighing huskily, unable to handle how cute you look with your mouth full of his cock, trying to figure out how to take more of his length. He would find the sight of his member glistening with your saliva to be quite entertaining.

"That's a good girl. Come get your rewards."

The moment he blows out his cigar and removes his rings, you know the real deal is about to start.

He would likely use his large hook, carefully running the sharpened tip along the soft skin of your stomach. Before slowly leaving a trail of kisses along your neck. Avoid running your hands through his hair and stay still like the good girl you are. Otherwise, he might punish you with a hard pinch on your nipple and a rough slap on your ass cheeks.

Slowly but surely, then, he would reach your inner thighs and then your pussy. He would eat you out with his hand holding your thighs apart. He would you lick your pussy in a classy way, not like a vulgar starving. He would be fond of all your moaning and incoherent mumbling as you can't handle how good it feels. "You won't cum until I say so." While circling your clit with his thumb, teasing you, drinking your juice. Your shivering and tremblings are both entertaining and satisfying. Crocodile rarely goes down on someone, but when he does… oh, it's quite mesmerizing.

"Stay still" if you start to squirm because of how good it feels.

And, once you're finally reduced to a whining mess, he would use his hook to grab one of your thighs, pushing them apart, spreading your legs wide enough to fit in between. "Spread your legs for me." He would put a pillow under your back while manhandling you. And then, again, he would use his hook to slightly raise your upper body, until your pussy is lined with his cock.

"Can you take it?"

He would enter you in one go as soon as you nodded. Not in a forceful way, but he doesn't see the point of taking a lot of breaks. Once his cock is buried deep inside you, he will soothe your trembling thighs by running his hand along your lower-stomach, feeling the bulge created by his cock. "Good girl. You're taking me so well." He would likely hold your legs tightly, trying to fight his own desire to fuck you roughly.

He's a patient man, so he'll wait until you're ready for him to start thrusting.

So deep and slow at the same time while he stretches you further, his cock throbbing and twitching. Not a grunter, but a pretty deep breath as you tighten around him. For this occasion, he will spare you from his usual roughness. But next time… you better be ready.

Katakuri

CW : The reader is smaller than him, but there's not a BIG size difference, food play, unprotected sex

"I know, love." Yes, he would speak before you even have time to express your fears. Blame it on his haki. Katakuri has a lot of sisters, so he would be well-aware of those kinds of thoughts. If you're nervous, he would take some time to ask why, making sure to fully understand the situation.

"I'll take care of you, everything will be alright." Despite his lack of words, you have faith in him. He's aware of the future, so if he says it's going to be fine, you can trust him and it's already really soothing.

The Sweet Commander is a gentleman and he's aware of size. He would never just slam into you, especially not if you're already afraid. Before even thinking of reaching for your pussy, he would start with a lot of soft kisses all along your neck, and then on your breasts, sucking on your nipples, pinching them nicely. He just loves your breasts. They feel soft under his palms. He could spend hours worshipping your chest. As you slowly arch your back, moaning softly, and relaxing under his touch, he would continue to kiss your stomach, honoring every inch of your body.

You're so beautiful. Despite his quietness, his eyes would be brimming with pride. Being intimate with such a beautiful woman like you fills him with pride. "You're doing great."

His voice would always be calm and deep, as usual. The control he has over himself is quite mesmerizing.

And well, Katakuri probably has a food play kink, so he would love to devour your body covered in cream. So intoxicating. Your body tastes amazing. The taste of sugar is also amazing. Both? Total heaven.

He would then sink his head between your thighs, eating you out like your pussy was one of his dearest donuts. He'd like nothing more than to please you, so feel free to guide him. Katakuri being both smart and observant, he would quickly learn all of your sweet spots, turning you into a whiny moan, begging for more.

If you don't tell him to stop, he could eat you out for hours. He can't help it; it feels so good and you taste so good. He would drink your juice, circling your clit with his thumb and wouldn't stop until you cum against his lips.

"So good."

He would take advantage of your wetness and dizzy mind from your orgasm to slowly push one thick and long finger inside you. It's so tight and warm that he would struggle to keep his calm composure. Especially because his haki showed him some really nice pictures of what's going to happen.

As long as you need him to continue, Katakuri would honestly just pamper you with kisses and caresses. He knows how big he's, so you have to tell him when you're ready to take him.

Katakuri would keep your thighs apart with an impatient hand, exposing your wet folds to his eyes. He would look hungrily. His cock twitching crazily in impatience, leaking in anticipation. "You're ready?"

He already knows the answer, but Katakuri is a gentleman and cares a lot about consent. It doesn't matter if his observation haki shows him everything in advance.

Katakuri would intertwine his fingers with yours before slowly easing his cock into you in one go. A slow, but steady one. And as he fills you up to the brim, he would lose his composure and sigh in relief. Your pussy feels like heaven around his cock. It's a perfect blend of tightness, warmth, heat, and wetness. "Y/N, you feel amazing."

He would adjust his pace to what you're capable of. If you need him to slow down, he will. And he would be more than happy to comply if you asked him to be rougher. He is here to satisfy you. And you will be satisfied. Reduced to a shivering, moaning mess. The way his fat cock slowly slides in and out and hits all your sweet spots is just too good. It's such a delight to see the big, stoic Katakuri looking his composure because of your body…

King

CW : The reader is smaller than him, but there's not a BIG size difference, kind of blindfold kink I guess (?), slight spanking, unprotected sex

Even with you, King doesn't like to show his face. He struggles with intimacy. Your confession would make him feel embarrassed. What is he supposed to do? He was about to fuck you without any further thought, but now he needs to take more consideration.

He would slap your thigh with a sigh. "Turn around."

While slowly lying on your stomach and complying, he would slowly remove his heavy mask, running a hand through his beautiful white hair. But you don't have the right to watch. The only thing you're allowed to do is imagine. You've already seen his face. So you close your eyes and imagine his beautiful, almost mesmerizing beauty in your mind: brown skin, white hair, and an expression that is both cold and determined.

He would make you feel. Feel his mouth licking and kissing your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Wet kisses. His hair would softly caress your skin as he devoured the back of your neck, his big hands roaming along your waist to keep you steady. "Stay still" he would always speak with his lips near your ear, enjoying all of your shivering.

And suddenly, he would yank your panties or just push them asides, eating you out from behind, spreading your thighs. "Get on your all fours," he would command, just to have a better view of your glistening folds, before sinking back between your legs. He would keep your cheeks spread and lap at your pussy, intoxicated by your moans, your taste, smell, and how you feel against his lips. You're arched for him, exposed, so beautiful.

Even if he eats you out, he would love to spank your ass every time you squirm, forcing you to stay still. "Don't move and let me eat you out." He can sense that you're tense. And he doesn't understand why because usually, he can slide into you with ease. But he would take his time, fingering you, rubbing your clit, turning you into an almost crying, whimpering mess.

He would obligingly ignore his cock, twitching and throbbing in anticipation, taking his time to work on your tightness, stroking your back. "Shh, it's alright, we'll take our time."

He would love to watch how beautiful you are, with your ass up and chest against the mattress, and your head buried in a pillow. What a stunning sight. The way your pussy is messing up on the bedsheets is quite stunning.

He would use the fact you're unable to see him to his advantage, teasing you, running his fingers along your slit, then rubbing his cockhead, mixing his pre-cum with your wetness. "Please…"

Please keep begging, it's a lullaby to his ears.

And finally, he would grab your hips firmly, filling you up to the hilt in one go, hitting your cervix. He would fight against his own desire to destroy you by digging into your soft flesh with his fingers. His strong grip would leave bruises on your skin tomorrow.

With his huge cock nestled deep inside you, almost splitting you in half, he would let out a shaky breath. So good. So intoxicating. As you lie down, at his mercy, the sight of his cock slowly thrusting in and out of your tight hole, all stretched out around his thickness... it's too much to handle. As he plows into you from behind, he would moan. His member, all glistening and shining, covered in your wetness, the way your ass is swallowing him...

He just can't.

His hands would be glued to your ass cheeks all the time. "You keep sucking me in, it won't let me go."

He would try his best to stay nice. Stretching you out slowly. Even with slow strokes, his size is so overwhelming that it drives you crazy. Holding onto the bedsheets, closing your eyes, all you're allowed to do is imagine his jaw tightly clenched and his muscular body looming over you.

"Does it feel good, Y/N?"

The instant you say yes and he feels you loose around his thickness, he will smash into you roughly, grunting loudly, slapping your ass, intoxicated by your you. And you alone.

Corazon

CW : Body worship, praises, face sitting, protected sex, wholesome, soft sex

To end on a sweet note, the lovely Rosinante.

Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Rosinante is always kind to you, and you know he won't do anything to hurt you. But still, if you explain to him you're nervous because he's big and also because you're always a bit stressed when it comes to sex… then, Rosinante would just be even more sweet.

"Sweetie, we'll take it slow. You trust me?"

He would be both careful and nervous due to his goofiness. What if he just falls on you? What if he crushes you with his weight? What if... oh, no, he's thinking too much again, his hands twitching on your body.

"It's okay Rosi, I trust you."

As you ease him down, he would kiss every nook and cranny of your body: neck, collarbone, breasts, stomach, belly button,... leaving red lipstick streaks all over.

His large, heavy, and yet kind hands would hungrily roam your figure, your shoulders, learning each of your curves, scars, and every single part that makes you, you. He would make you love everything you hate about yourself, making you feel safe and loved.

His hands would be soft and heavenly as he fondled your breasts, mesmerized by how warm and soft they felt against his big palms. Well, he's still goofy, so he might accidentally pinch you or scratch your nipple, apologizing again and again with wet puppy eyes.

And slowly, his hands and mouth would continue to explore your skin, kissing your lower stomach, and slowly reaching for your damping wet panties. "So wet for me."

He's genuinely amazed. Rosinante would be in awe: does he attract you so much? He just wants to smile warmly at you.

He would accidentally rip your panties apart, and then apologizes again. Please, just laugh or reassure him. After all, his goofiness is adorable.

He would be incredibly sweet if you're a bit nervous about exposing yourself fully to him. "Sweetie, I swear you're mesmerizing. So perfect and beautiful, I want to love every inch of your skin". While slowly running his hands along your inner thighs. "It's alright, sweetie. Just open your legs for me. Can you do this for me?"

If you're still nervous, then Rosinante would lie down and allow you to sit on his face with your wet pussy pressed against his lips. Rosinante would love to eat you out while rubbing his hands along your back, ass, and thighs. Soft kisses on your clit, hungry tongue drinking your juice while it flows down on his chin.

He would gently massage your bottom while slowly sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue. Rosinante would just love to have your thighs squeezing his cheeks. Move, all you want against his tongue, all he wants is to satisfy you and soothe all of your worries. His focus will only be on you, regardless of how hard his cock is.

He would slowly slide a thick finger inside you, curling it nicely to hit that sweet spot, making sure you're ready and aware of what's happening. The way you moan his name and use his mouth as you please is mesmerizing.

With two fingers gently stretching out, Rosinante would continue to worship your body with his hands and tongue. He's probably trying to hide his coughs because he's suffocating with his face stuck between your thighs. But who cares. The way you taste is like heaven.

If you want to cum, he would allow you to cum against his lips. If you want to stop before reaching ecstasy, that's okay too.

"I'm ready for you, Rosi."

Totally flushed and nervous, Rosi would let you ride him. He's too stressed by his goofiness, so it's better if you take the lead. And at least, you can control the rhythm and depth.

Rosinante would definitely use a condom. But, he would struggle to open the packaging and then roll the protection over his length due to his nervousness, excitement, and goofiness. His big, shaking hands would likely cause him to split one or two condoms. Please, help this poor boy.

The shows continue with the lube. It's likely that he would let the bottle to fall, spilling all of the liquid onto both your belly and his hands. "I'm so sorry, sweetie!" And he would stupidly try to steal some lube from your stomach to smear it over his length. You can't help but laugh warmly, caressing his hair. "It's okay Rosi, relax."

His heart melts as you straddle him, his length twitching and leaking wildly. He's big, both in length and girth, and he's aware of it. He would allow you to take all of your time to prepare yourself. The way he looks at you tells how much he cares about you and how honored he feels to have you by his side.

"Whenever you want, Y/N" with his deep, soothing and soft voice.

As he feels your tight entrance against his cockhead, he would bite his lips, grabbing the bedsheets tightly. Because he would never dare hold you roughly and leave bruises on your body. When he sees that you're still a bit nervous, he would sit up while you're still straddling him. He would slowly raise your hips before easing his cock inside you. Pushing gently, each inch, slowly yet steadily. "Shh, it's okay, I've got you, you're taking me so well. You're so perfect for me."

He would hold you tightly as you sit down on his lap, your breasts pressed against his chest. "It's okay sweetie, you're doing great, it's okay, almost there, just a little more, you feel so good around me." With his hands squeezing your hips to keep you still.

His entire body would be shaking. The sensations are overwhelming for both of you. You're so tight, so wet, and his huge cock is stretching you so nicely, throbbing inside you.

He would soothe your back gently as he finally penetrates you fully, his large size stretching you out even further. "There it's over. Look at you, taking all of my cock so well. You're such a brave girl. "

He would slowly guide your hips up and down, unable to handle how good it feels. " I've got you, let me take care of you."

A lot of kisses, soft, heavenly touches, his breath deep against your breath as he continues to slide gently yet firmly inside you. He would praise you all the time, worshiping your body. A bit goofy from time to time, loweering you to roughly down his cock, scratching you or biting your lips instead of kissing you softly.

But a really, really sweet moment, and a lot of cuddles during the aftercare.

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imwetforyourmom · 8 days

Note

request!!!

chris or matt fic where him and the reader had a good time last night and they wake up and like cuddle and just like super fluffy and she like makes breakfast for him idk it’s all over the place but you get it

sweet

warnings: lovey dovey, suggestive, kissing, swearing, literally just fluff, poc!reader friendly

a/n: nah cause when I read the request I actually kicked my feet and said “aww that’s so cutee!!” SO FUCKING LOUD.

a/n 2: even tho anon and I did not talk at all while I was making this, I felt like me and the anon that requested this were like besties, idk

“you’re too sweet to me”

he slowly opened his eyes, before shutting them closed almost immediately with a grunt. he wrapped his arms around y/n and pulled her further into his embrace, his eyes still squeezed tightly shut due to the overbearing rays of sun in his room.

y/n moved her face away from his chest some, her eyes opening slowly to look at the boy above her.

“hi” she murmured, her voice slightly raspy with sleep.

chris kept one eye shut with a squint and his other eye opened to look at y/n, a small smile forming on his face.

“hi baby” he used his grip around her to push her face back into his chest, but closer to his neck.

breathing in, y/n wrapped her arms around chris’ bare torso and pulled one of her legs up to rest on his waist, bringing them closer.

“you were amazing last night” chris mumbled into her hair, his eyes closed now. he traced small shapes and patterns on y/ns back.

“thanks, you were okay too I guess.” y/n joked, chris scoffed in return, “well fine then, guess ill go fuck myself.”

y/n bursted into a fit of giggles, chris joining along with her.

“im joking!” she said, sighing as she stopped giggling, a contentness washed over her.

“you were amazing too” she kissed a small peck on his collarbone, before nuzzling her face further into his neck.

y/n could never ask for something as good as this, laying peacefully in her boyfriends arms while they cuddled after a long night. the warm rays of sun beaming in through the window only enchanting the moment, she wouldnt want anything any other way.

chris ran his hand through y/ns hair, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, she was so perfect, in any and every way.

“you’re so perfect.” he praised, his voice quiet but still loud enough to be heard from y/n.

a small smile also tugged at her lips, “thanks chrissy.”

without warning, she flipped them over, straddling chris’ waist, thank god she was wearing panties or this morning would end in a totally different way.

chris slowly opened his eyes, a small sense of confusion on his face at her sudden actions. he held her hips gently, rubbing small circles on them comfortingly.

he looked into her eyes, a stupid grin on his face, causing y/n to have a stupid grin on her face aswell.

after a few moments of just staring at eachother, soaking in eachothers beauty, she leant down and pressed a quick peck to chris’ lips before pulling off him fully, jumping to the floor and grabbing his t-shirt from last night to slip it on.

“im gonna make breakfest, are you going to come up with me now or in a little bit?” she asked, walking over to his closet and grabbing a pair of her shorts to slip them on as well, theres no way she’d walk upstairs in an oversized shirt with only panties on underneath.

“ill come up in a sec.” he smiled at her, waving his hands off to shoo her off.

she nodded and left the room, closing the door behind herself—hiding a slight limp from him, only to not boost his ego.

y/n stood at the oven, humming a song to herself while shifting the pan over the burner every few seconds, content with life.

living with her boyfriend and his triplet brothers in a happy home, cooking them breakfest on a warm and bright morning.

she slightly swayed her hips, feeling the music she was humming, until a hand wrapping around her waist stopped her movements.

“hi pretty girl” chris said, his chin propped on the top of her head as he watched the egg cooking aswell.

“hi!” she replied, though her voice way more enthusastic than it was in bed.

“whats got you all happy?” chris asked, his fingertips very slightly making movements to tickle her sides.

“dunno, im just happy today.” she murmured, flipping the egg sunny-side up.

“am I not allowed to be happy living with my boyfriend in a content home?” she asked sarcastically, leaning her head back to look at chris.

“I was just asking, sheesh.” he chuckled, pressing a quick peck to her cheek bone before unraveling his arms from her waist, hearing loud footsteps, signaling nick was coming in the kitchen, knowing his hatred for ‘PDA’.

nick cleared his throat, ridding of any of his leftover sleepiness “what’re you doing, y/n?” nick asked, coming around the corner and leaning against the counter, his eyes flicking between chris and her, seeing that chris was also leaning against a counter.

“making breakfest.” she murmured, her focus now returning back to the pan.

“for whom?” nick asked eagerly, he was starving and was not gonna pass up her cooking.

y/n tilted her head towards nick, a sly grin on her face. “why? you hungry?”

“well yes, thats why I asked.” nick raised his eyebrows, looking at y/n with a ‘duh’ look on his face.

“ok well, im making it for all three of you—if matt gets up anytime soon.” she looked back at the pan, her eyes trailing around the egg, waiting for it to be able to flip.

“I dont think matts getting up anytime soon. its ten o clock.” nick chuckled, leaving the kitchen to walk to the couch, plopping down onto it and turning on spongebob.

“okayyy guys, breakfest is ready!!” y/n said, taking the pan off the oven and putting the cooked eggs and bacon on the paper plates, a grin on her face, looking down at her work.

“thanks y/n.” nick got up from the couch going to the kitchen and grabbing his plate, giving y/n a side hug before going back to his spot on the couch.

chris leaned off the counter, walking over to y/n, he turned her around and wrapped his arms around her torso, pressing his face into her hair, inhaling the fruity scent of her shampoo.

y/n returned the hug, before looking up at chris, a small grin on her face a light pink blush to her cheeks.

chris looked down at her, a small smile on his face, he pressed a small kiss to the tip of her nose, mumbling “you’re so sweet to me.”

1184 words

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linopls · 8 months

Text

kinktober day nine

oral chan x fem!reader summary: you're chan's favorite inspiration warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), blond chan (it needs a warning) 0.8k words

“hey, can i eat you out?”

“what?”

you and chan had been sitting silently in his studio. he had his headphones on and was working on a song for their next comeback and you were sat on the couch behind him, working on a project for one of your classes. you’d both been sat in complete silence for the past three hours, both working in a stress-free environment, which was rare.

“what did you say?” you ask again.

“you heard me.” chan takes off his headphones and swivels around in his chair to face you. “i have been stuck for the past fifteen minutes and i need some inspiration.”

you laugh, “does eating me out give you inspiration?”

“maybe,” chan shrugs as he stands up from his chair and picks your laptop up off your lap and places it gently on his desk. “your moans are like music to my ears, and i need to listen to something else than what have been.”

“are you writing another ‘drive’?” you joke and chan laughs. you sit up and move to the edge of the couch where chan meets. he stands between your legs and lifts your chin to look him in the face.

“i might after this,” chan says before pushing his lips against yours. his lips are soft and taste sweet. he quickly starts to kiss down your jawline and to your exposed collarbone.

“i love when you wear my clothes,” he mumbles between kisses. it was raining when you arrived to the studio, which left you freezing and wet. chan, being the kind boyfriend he was, gave you the sweatshirt he was wearing.

he kneels in front of your and puts his hands on your thighs, softly squeezing them. he softly bites down on your collarbone until he leaves a small bruise on the spot, he pulls away and admires the mark.

“so pretty.” he then looks you in the eyes, his soft brown eyes full of lust. “god, you’re so pretty, can i please eat you out now?” he begs.

the way he begs to pleasure you sends a warm feeling to your core. one of your favorite things about chan was that his love language was acts of service. while normally this meant he would do chores for you, hold doors for you, and make appointments for you. it also meant that he would always pleasure you first, usually several times, before himself. many days he would beg to eat you out, today, when you should be working, was no different.

you giggle. “of course.”

“thank you,” he sighs, quickly hooking his fingers under your waist band. you lift your hips off the couch to assist him and he pulls off your sweatpants in one swift motion.

like a starved animal, he quickly pulls your legs apart and licks one long stripe up your core. “god, you taste so fucking good,” he moans to himself.

chan starts lapping at your core. he rotates between tracing circles and sucking on your clit and sliding his tongue as deep in your hole as he can. he then decides he needs to be even closer and wraps his muscled arms around your thighs and pulls your body to his face. this knocks you flat on the couch and you moan in response. he continues to work on your clit, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud.

“chan, fuck, please don’t stop,” you moan, tangling your hands into his blond hair.

your words of encouragement have him sticking to the pattern of flicking his tongue at your clit and swirling small circles over it. he moans and hums as he sloppily makes out with your cunt.

“chan, please, please, please keep going. i’m gonna cum,” you whine, hips squirming in his strong grip.

without breaking contact with your cunt, chan looks up at you. the look in his innocent eyes sends you over the edge.

“fuck i’m cumming,” you yell. you tighten your grip in his hair and press your leaking cunt against his face, moaning his name loudly as you finish. chan slows his pace, helping work you through your orgasm.

as you release the grip on his hair, chan sits up fully. you notice how blown out his eyes look, his blond, curly hair a mess atop his head, and your glistening slick coating his face. he makes direct eye contact with you as he licks his lips clean and wipes his mouth with his arm. your eyes roll back and your head falls back onto the couch.

chan stands up with your pants in his hands, he folds them nicely before putting them on one of the side tables. he places a kiss to your forehead and picks up your body to lay you the proper way on the couch. he then grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and lays it over your body.

“but babe, what about you-?” you start, propping yourself on your elbows.

“let me finish this song,” he says, sitting back down in his chair and putting his headphones on. “i got my inspiration.”

i need chan to be blond again for my own mental health

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bingbongsupremacy · 19 days

Text

Marry Me?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Warning: I haven't seen criminal minds in a bit so idk if the Spencer in this is 100 percent accurate

Summary: Spencer asks you to marry him at the most random time. Garcia does not approve.

*Not Proof Read* ABC List Criminal Minds

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

" That's horrifying. " I wrinkle my nose at the sight of the bloody decapitated woman in the photos lying scattered around the table. This is why I work with Garcia.

Sticky notes are messily pasted onto the photos, illegible scribbles covering them.

" It is. " Spencer agrees.

" Why did you call me in here? " I ask, confused why my boyfriend called me in if he isn't going to expand further on the topic.

Spencer picks up a large Manila folder and shuffles through the contents. " I think I might have figured out the pattern we were looking for. " He pulls out a small stack of papers, each with the name of a high school in the corner. " The Unsub is killing girls from the same high school. Each girl attended the school at a different year. It's like he's going down the line of years. If I'm right, he'll been picking a girl from 2002 next. "

I scan over one of the papers he hands me. " Shit, you're right. " Excitement fills my body. We've been working on this for hours. He figured it out! " Spencer, this is fucking amazing! You figured it out! We need to tell the others. "

" Yes. I also think I might know who the next potential victim is based on other patterns I picked up along the way. " Spencer rambles on. " I think he might be going after Piper Johnson next, the woman we saw on the news interview. We need to check if she's okay. By the way, do you want to get married? "

His words come out so fast it takes me a second to process.

" W-What? " My eyes widen. Did I hear correctly?

Spencer is looking at me his gaze steady. He looks serious. " I know it's a little random, but this case really had me thinking. We don't know how much time we have together. God forbid one of us gets hurt or worse. I don't want to waste any more time with you. I love you and I want to be with you. I'd be the happiest man on earth if you said yes. "

For a moment I forget we're surrounded by gruesome shit. All I can think about is Spencer and our future. All of our plans.

A large smile makes its way onto my face. " Of course I will, Spence. I love you. " I smash my face into his, our lips meeting and immediately sending shivers through my body.

" I love you too, Y/N. So fucking much. " His voice rumbles against my lips.

" You did not just fucking ask Y/N to marry you in a room surrounded by dead women. Spencer, what the fuck. " A surprised voice interrupts us.

Surprised, Spencer and I pull apart to find the owner.

Garcia stares at us, her mouth hung open in surprise. " And you accepted his proposal? Are you insane? Don't get me wrong, you guys are perfect for each other. This proposal was just...so...gory. " She glances at the pictures around the room. " I'll help you plan out a real proposal, alright? Let's press pause on this until tonight. I'll have it all ready by the time you guys get back. " She says confidently, taking on the task we didn't ask her to do.

" It's really not that big of a deal- " I begin.

" It'll be done by tonight. " She says sternly, holding her hand up to stop any argument. " Now, you go let the others know what's going on with the unsub. " She points at me. " You are staying here with me while we set everything up. "

She gently pulls me towards the door, snatching the pack of information out of Spencer's hand.

" But-! "

She doesn't let me finish, swiftly kicking me out of the room.

Behind her, Spencer stand watching me in surprise.

Garcia shuts the door in my face, leaving me standing on the other side alone.

This day has been so confusing.

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #x you #x female reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #fem reader #female reader #reader insert #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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lunarluvbot · 4 months

Text

saturday sun

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

pairing : percy jackson x fem!reader

summary : a little surprise percy springs on you turns out to be one of the best afternoons at camp. or maybe that's just because you're with him?

requested : yes / no

willow's whispers : first pjo writing cause everything i see is for luke so if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself !! also im pretty sure this can be read for any godly parent. based on the song saturday sun by vance joy. I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING SO YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO JUDGE HOW BAD OR SHORT IT IS. I'm building up for my big fics.

warnings : literally nothing this is the most boring fic ever

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Where are we going?" You laughed, blindly following Percy as he helped you over a fallen log.

"Oh, just somewhere you'll love," He said, and winked. "At least I hope you do. Anyways, c'mon!"

The pair of you marched through the woods of the camp, laughing, talking, teasing, and enjoying moments of silence. The sun blinked lazily between branches of giant pine trees as if Apollo was comfortably stretching out on his throne.

"Here, stop here." Percy turned to you and gave you that smile that made you fall in love a little more every time you saw it. If that was even possible. "There's a pathway over here, be careful 'cause there's a lotta rocks over here."

You followed him once again, down a narrow sloping hill and arrived on a shoreline. A small oasis even. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years, moss grew over everything, the grass was bright and stood tall as if no one's footsteps had ever crushed them down yet. Waves gently lapped the rocks and few shells scattered across the ground.

"Wow," You breathed, almost as if your normal volume would disturb this angelic peace. "When did you find this, Perce?"

Percy, who was flattening the weeds to sit on, looked up. "Huh? Oh, two days ago. During capture the flag. Then I came back yesterday to make sure some monster didn't live here and now I'm showing it to you," He finished setting up his bed that would make any Demeter kid cringe. "C'mere," Percy motioned for you to lay next to him.

You smiled and made your way over to him, easing yourself down on his patch of grass. The two of you were on your stomachs, watching the water swirl into memorizing, glittering, patterns. A sweet silence filled the air.

But the water wasn't what Percy was interested in. He just kept his eyes on you, admiring the way your face lit up when you heard your favorite bird call. The way your eyes seemed to shine in the golden god's light. The smooth curve of your lips that twitched when you smiled.

You met his eyes, the sea-green hue a painting of where the sky and the sea meet.

"Do I have something on my face?" You asked, lightly teasing him to pretend you weren't about to do the same staring as he was doing now.

Percy's eyes glinted and the wisps of his hair caught the sunlight perfectly. "No, you're just the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Art's gotta be appreciated right?"

"I guess but shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Aw hey, quit stealing my line!" He said, poking your stomach. A giggle escaped you, one Percy knew he would fight any number of monsters to hear again.

"It's not your line! Where's your copyright claim?"

Instead of answering right away, Percy wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. He tucked a fly-away strand of hair out of your face and pressed his lips gently to yours. It felt like the first breath of spring, when the flowers peek from their earthly shield and remind the world that only precious things take time.

"It's right here."

And he kisses you again.

#i was half asleep writing this #i am so sleepy #anyway enjoy ig??#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo show #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians x reader

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calumfmu · 1 month

Note

PLEASEEEE can we get a sequel to steddie fighting over reader ?? maybe they get together to confront reader and realise they could have a lot more fun if they work together ;))

I've been working on it babe and here it is !! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I had fun writing it. I love this dynamic I have going on, and I hope to continue it. So send me some requests regarding these three, and I'll deliver <3 (also Jesus Christ it’s a long one: 4.2k+ words) Steddie x reader who is playing them both (part two to this) cw: smut, smut, smut, threesome, swearing, 18+, mdni, angst, eating out reader, mentions of Steddie relationship? situationship? idk man, blowjob, unprotected sex, eiffel tower (let’s gooo), fingering, facial, creampie,

The last few weeks have been hell for you. Or heaven, if you could call it that. Both boys yearning for your attention, spending as much time as they could in your presence, one dropping you off only to be picked up an hour later by the other. Constant touches and moments shared in a secret rendezvous between the two of them. The interchanged teenage boy libido was wearing you out day by day, nothing like you had experienced before.

Steve lay beside you, panting as his chest was exposed to the night air, chest hair wet with sweat that dripped down the muscle. He passed his discarded shirt to you for you to wipe down the evidence of the events that just occurred. You were stretched out across the scrappy picnic blanket that lay in the dirt, lake water trickling behind you.

"So, I was thinking..." He began, pulling his shirt over his head. You eyed it, not recognizing the pattern printed on the front. It did look familiar, but nothing of the sort that seemed to be in the boys closet.

"Oh God." You teased, eyes widening at his words. He lightly slapped your arm, rolling his eyes at your comment before buttoning up his jeans.

"Seriously, I was thinking maybe we could, uhh... spend the night together?" He cleared his throat as you got dressed, speeding up your movements as you searched the lake bank for anyone who might pass by. It was uncommon this time of night, but something you should be wary of as Lover's Lake seemed to be a damn near tourist destination these days.

You shot him a look, crinkling your brow. "Tonight?"

He nodded, "Yeah... we finally got that Molly Ringwald movie you wanted to see. I snagged it before we could shelf it, but it's gotta be returned before Keith notices."

You pursed your lips together, toying with the hem of your sock as you refused to meet his eyes. He continued his words, flipping over his stomach to lean closer to you.

"I was thinking me, you, the movie. I could make you my world-famous dish that I've only made for... myself, but hey... I could use a critic. Then in the morning, we could take a trip out of town to--"

"Steve," you gently said, touching his arm as you finally met his eyes. His expression immediately soured, eyes darting away from you. "I can't tonight. Maybe t--"

"Tomorrow? Next week even? " He rushed, irritation filling his words as he sat up suddenly. He began gathering the items that lay around you, tossing your shoe in your general direction.

You were shocked, faltering in your movements as you took him in. This wasn't what you were used to, this wasn't the Steve that had stolen your heart in the past few months.

"Woah, what's up?"

Your voice was shaky as he pulled you to your feet, balling up the blanket that you once lied on. He threw it into his trunk, not bothering to shake the dirt off of it. His once pristine trunk was littered with brown, speckles of Earth settling into the carpeted crevice. Your shoe was half way on, heel sticking out as he rounded the side of the vehicle to the driver's seat.

"What's up?" He repeated to you, venom dripping out of his words. The car clicked as he unlocked it, you sliding into the passenger as he began to start it up. His movements were so fast you could barely keep up with them. "You seriously want to know what's up?"

He fumbled with the keys in the ignition, turning the key over and over before you placed a hand on his wrist, halting the repetition.

"Steve."

His chest immediately fell with a deep exhale, his fingers loosening before he turned his head to you. His brown eyes met yours, wide and filled with an emotion you couldn't quite touch on.

"Steve." His name on your mouth felt like a plea for help, wondering what happened to the Harrington boy that you were so used to.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, bringing his hands to his face as his head fell against the head rest. He ran them through his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I just..." Chewing at your bottom lip, you didn't know how to start your next words. "I have plans with Eddie..."

His eyes rolled shut, hands falling to his side before he opened them to look at you. Silence filled the air accompanied by the nervous tap of your foot against the floor of the car.

"Yeah, I know." His whisper felt like a bullet, punching you through your chest, bleeding into your veins.

"You know?"

He laughed, a bitter sound making your skin crawl. "How could I not?"

"I'm sorry, I—"

"It's fine," he ended his words with your name, a sound you normally would love to hear coming from his mouth. In this moment, it sounded like a curse. "I—I just knew. Just like Robin said, you're terrible at it. Playing dumb."

Your mouth sputtered open, losing all words that could even begin to make an excuse.

"You go to his house when you're done over here. Days with me. Nights with him. I know the whole thing," he continued, counting on his fingers with every point he made. You nodded, agreeing with him as it was the only thing you could do in that moment.

"Are—are you mad at me?"

You felt like a little girl at this moment, getting chastised by your father even if the comparison was inappropriate. The only answer you got was Steve starting his car, putting it in reverse as he made his way to your house to drop you off.

The two of you sat in silence for the ride, your heart hanging heavy as he drove, Steve filled with an emotion you couldn't quite pinpoint—anger? Rage? Disdain? You weren't sure, whatever it was, he kept it to himself.

He pulled up to your place, lips pressed together as a goodbye as you turned to look at him before getting out. The door sat open, your leg half way out as you started him down, his gaze focused on the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?" You tried, smiling hopefully in his direction. He nodded, not yet meeting your eyes.

"Yeah, see you at 10."

Your face dropped, the mention of your shared shift starting having all hopes crushed. You were hoping he had mentioned something other than the start of the shift, that he was going to talk about taking you out, but you knew that ship had sailed. Whatever you had going on between the two of you—it was ruined.

Your exit was silent as you fled, shutting the door softly behind you before making it up your walk way. Tears stung at your eyes as you fought the emotion. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Your distraction was found in the sheets of Eddie's bed, the older man on top of you, half dressed as he kissed you. Steve lingered in the back of your mind, not dared spoken to him as you didn't want a repeat of the scenario that had occurred.

Eddie's kisses were soft, different than he normally did. He normally was fast, rough, strict black compared to Steve's white. Shaking your head, you placed a hand at the back of his head, pulling him further into you. He moaned into the touch, rutting his hips into yours as his hand pulled at the bra strap at your shoulder.

"Needy babe," he whispered to you in between kisses, pulling away to place his mouth under your ear. Your head crooked to the side, arching into him as the heat of his body overwhelmed any rational thought.

"Eddie—" You began, moaning at his touch. His fingers lowered the strap, dancing into the cup of your bra to grasp at your boob. Goosebumps chilled your body, prickling at the surface of your skin. "I need you."

"You need me, baby?"

The rasp in his voice had you falling apart under his touch, head pressed back into the mattress as bliss flooded your brain.

"I need you."

He hummed in response, trailing his mouth down the expanse of your neck. As his lips found your collarbones, you spread your legs even wider, your hands running down his sides. His tattooed skin felt like silk underneath your grasp, warmth shared in the touch.

"Is this okay?" You looked down to see him pressing kisses to your stomach, trailing lower and lower as gasps fled your mouth. His hands found the hem of your panties, pulling them down slightly as he buried his head between your thighs. The touch of his tongue on you had you gasping for more, fingers tangled in the sheets as he started his touches of pleasure.

He started out fast, tongue toying at your clit as your underwear was pulled down, still resting at your thighs, not yet free. Heat pooled between your legs, wetness dripping out of you. You loved the way he touched you, the way he kissed you.

"Fuck, Eddie—"

He hummed against you, tongue dipping into your hole as he pulled your underwear down further to gain access. Your legs were a bit more free of restriction, thighs pulling at the stretch of fabric.

"I need-" You began, shouting out at the brush of his thumb against your heat. He began to massage you, small circles rubbed against you.

"Need me more than Stevie?"

Your heart lurched at the name, not quite sure if you heard it correctly. Placing a hand at his head, you pushed him off of you, sitting up at your elbows to look at him. He was smug as the cold air hit you, your legs closing at the exposure.

"Wh-what did you say?"

A smirk played on his mouth, his fingers returning to your hips as he pulled you down the mattress closer to him. He leaned into his previous perch, pressing a kiss to your pubic bone. You didn't react, brows furrowed as you stared him down. He shushed you, returning his mouth to your wet cunt as he continued his pleasure to you. Your head fell against the mattress, eyes fluttering shut once again.

As his tongue worked you, his comment lingered, questions filling your senses. Did he say what he did? Or was your mind playing tricks, still caught up on the interaction earlier? A whine escaped you as a finger slipped partly inside of you, digit stretching you open with his tongue.

"Bet little Steve could never have you like this."

You heard it clear this time, your hands pushing him completely off of you before you sat upright, clawing at your underwear to be pulled up your hips.

"What the fuck was that, Eddie?"

It was your turn to be mad, the venom that lingered in Steve's words transferring to your own. Eddie's smug look only angered you more, features serious as his own were teasing.

"Just stating the obvious," he shrugged, leaning on one hand as the other reached down to adjust himself in his boxers. You briefly followed the movement, noticing how hard he was in his pants.

"What are you trying to get at?" You spat at him, already throwing on your clothes. Eddie watched you, eyebrows raised as you rushed it. You pushed off of the bed, searching for your shoe as the mess of his room was suddenly hitting you. "How do you live like this? It's so fucking messy in here."

He remained silent as you scrambled, flipping things over as you searched. That stupid smirk was ever present on his face, top teeth dug into his bottom lip.

"I don't know what you're talking about, and it shouldn't matter. Even if it is better," you continued, hopping on one foot as you located your sock. You struggled slipping it on, bra strap hanging off your shoulder, peeking out of your top. "In some ways, but not all, he is really good at that one thin—not like it matters. And not like I would even know."

He hummed in response, eyebrows raised as you knew he didn't believe a single thing you were saying. He found humour in the situation. It made you more mad.

"Anyways—I don't want to talk about Steve. I don't want to talk about it with you," you stomped your socked foot, height unbalanced as the platform of your one Mary-Jane stood in the carpet.

"Right," he nodded sarcastically, still seated on the bed as you made your fit. "Under the desk."

You crossed your arms over your chest, continuing your point, "I'm with you right now, it shouldn't matt—What?"

His finger pointed across his room, your eyes following it as you located your other shoe, sitting there on its side, under the small desk covered in figurines, music sheets. Grumbling, you crossed the room before slipping it on.

His laugh echoed through the room as you turned to face him again, pout on your lips. You hated when he was right.

"So... should I take you home now or do you want to continue your little temper tantrum?"

Your mouth dropped open at his words, leaning over at the waist towards him as he seemed so fucking smug. His laughter only deepened, his head shaking at your dramatization.

"I'm walking home."

He shook his head, standing off the bed as he grabbed his discarded jeans. The black denim slid over his legs as he hopped slightly, buttoning them up while staring you down.

"I'm taking you home, sweetheart, it's like midnight."

"No. I'm walking."

You stood firm, turning to throw open the door. You began to storm through the trailer, stomps shaking the pictures that stood on the walls. Wayne sat in the living area, cold beer in one hand, TV remote in the other. His eyes met the scene that entered, you storming through, arms crossed in front of you with Eddie high on your heels, van keys in hand.

"Babe—"

You swiveled around, halting both of your movements as you leaned closer to him.

"I. Am. Walking."

Wayne looked between the two of you, snorting under his breath as he watched his nephew stand in his place, you crossing the floor to the front door. Eddie didn't know what to do, mouth dropped open as you gave him the first bit of attitude he thought you had ever given. You pulled the door open, cold air breezing in. Turning to the middle aged man, you nodded your head in a greeting.

"Goodnight, Wayne," you smiled at him before turning to a scowl, head tilting in Eddie's direction. "Eddie."

The door swung shut behind you as you descended the small flight of steps. The trailer nearly shook as the metal made contact with the frame, loud into the night air.

Eddie stood there, gobsmacked as his keys dangled from his fingers. Wayne had his focused back on the television, some fishing show playing on the static of the box.

"Nice one, son." He muttered, shaking his head as he took a swig of the beer. "What'd you do now?"

"Uncle Wayne, please—"

Eddie's hands shook in the air before turning on his heel, returning to his room with a slam of his own door. Wayne shook his head again, snorting again as he looked at the front door and then to his nephews.

"Teenagers."

A dark hoodie was pulled over you head, black sunglasses sitting on your face as you leaned over the counter, sat in a chair Robin had pulled out for you. You weren't supposed to be in that day, disguise on you as you were wary to see sight of either boy.

"You look the exact same," Robin muttered, leaning on her elbow, one hand running across the cracked counter of the video store.

"Robin, shut up," you replied, ducking your head even further. Steve was nowhere to be seen, his shift not yet started. She laughed at you, shooting a look to a group of middle schoolers who were daring each other to sneak past the 'Adults Only' curtain.

"You look like you, but in disguise," she laughed, shaking her head at you as you looked around the store.

"That's the whole point, dingus."

"How long are you planning on avoiding the two of them again?"

You rolled your eyes behind the shades, pulling the hoodie further down over your head.

"Until they both forget I exist."

"Yeah, doubt that's going to happen. Steve hasn't stopped talking about you since the last time you saw him, and I see Eddie's van lingering in the parking lot, like a stalker," she said, sighing as she watched your paranoia. "You know, if they ever make a movie or something about the Richard Ramirez guy down in California, Eddie could definitely play him. Maybe he should get into acting!"

You gave her a deadpan look, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"You're losing the point, Robs."

She shrugged, sitting up as her hands found the counter. Her chipped black nails stretched in front of you, tapping patterns into the wood.

"I'm just saying, they're not going to forget about you or what happened two weeks ago."

"But I can try, no?"

The preteens who were terrorizing the store ran around, knocking over displays as they pretended to shoot at each other with finger guns. Robin shouted at them, fingers snapping in their direction.

"No, you cannot," her finger pointed at you, emphasizing her point. "You had to know this was bound to happen."

Groaning, you shrunk into your seat, hands at your head. "I know, but not like this."

"Well, I don't know what I'm supposed to say here," she said, grimacing a fake-smile (could you call it that?) at an older gentleman who came up, glasses huge against his oily face. He pushed his way to the counter, a little too close and personal to the two of you.

You both leaned out of his space, look bleak as he proceeded to ask about a movie.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Robin answered, typing into the computer as he supplied details of it. She searched the stores inventory, typing and retyping star names as he gave the wrong ones. "A stranger? Calling? 1979, really?"

He nodded in response, insistent on the description. You watched the interaction unfold, eyes darting between the pair.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, clearing his throat. The hacking of his throat had the two of you leaning further out of his reach. "1979, with that Carol Kane chick."

"Chick?" She muttered under breath, eyebrows flitting at the word. You laughed at her, her reaction being one of the reasons why you loved her so much. She typed some more, pausing as a title finally appeared on the screen. "I think I got it."

The slow computer loaded, pixel by pixel as details emerged. She leaned in closer, reading the details aloud.

"Ahh, When a Stranger Calls," she nodded, typing more information to search for its location in the store. Your eyebrows raised slightly, realization dawning on you. Your head suddenly felt more clear. "Girl gets calls from a stranger, finds out it isn't a prank, that whole slasher thing."

You stood up out of the chair, the furniture tilting back to slam onto the floor. Both Robin and the older man jumped at the loud noise, eyeing you as you pointed towards your best friend.

"That's it!"

The man grumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I think I was being helped first."

You waved your hand in his direction, focused on Robin who started at you, wide eyed. "I'm going to call them! Explain that I was serious about them both, but couldn't decide and break it off tonight! With them both!"

Robin squinted her eyes at your exclamation, not following.

"I think you missed the point," she said, annoyed look on her face.

"No, that's it!" You cheered, smile wide as you took the glasses off of your face. "Thank you, Robs. Oh my God, I owe you."

You turned to run out the store, giddy with emotion as Robin stood behind you, confused as always when it came to you. A bleak 'you're welcome?' followed you out there as you ran into the street. Your plan for later was much clearer now, anxious emotions fleeing as you made your way towards home.

You chewed on your fingernail, tapping your foot against your kitchen linoleum, glass of wine in your other hand. They were supposed to be here any moment, the two of them supposed to be arriving separately, hours in between so things could go smoothly. You were expecting them to tear each other apart, fight to the death or something of the sort right in your driveway. Hours before, two separate phone calls had orchestrated, different time slots reserved for the heartbreaking conversations that were to take place.

The calls had gone smoothly, only for you to spiral hours later, red wine being your only escape into a less anxious state of mind. You expected it to be okay, the in-person talk, yet could only think of the worst case scenario at hand.

The shrill ringing of the doorbell pulled you out of your thoughts, your heart racing with every step you took towards the front door. You took a deep breath before opening it, Steve and Eddie both standing there to your surprise.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes wide as you looked between them two. Beginning to close the door, Eddie's hand shot out, stopping the movement.

"Hey, sweetheart," he beamed, tilting his head to the side. Steve gave him a look, eye roll in place at the nickname.

"Sweetheart?" Steve grumbled, hands resting on his hips.

"What—how did—why are you guys here?" You muttered, stepping aside as the two of them walked in. You remained frozen, eyes staring outside, where they once stood as they began to make themselves comfortable In your home.

Steve cleared his throat, pulling you from your trance. Reluctantly, you shut the door, turning to them as you gripped the wine glass in your hand.

Eddie stood, leaned against one of the walls in the foyer, Steve dead center in the small room.

"You invited us over, remember?" Eddie supplied, smile on his lips. Your eyes widened, darting back and forth between the duo. You shook your head rapidly, walking past them to the living room as they began to follow you.

You turned to them, a large swig being taken from the glass. "No! No! I invited you-" You pointed towards Eddie, "-over. And then him."

"Looks like you got two for the price of one," Eddie's stupid smug look had you faint, breath shallow as you moved to sit down, the Earth feeling shaky beneath you. He moved to sit beside you, legs splayed wide as he spread himself on the couch. Steve remained in place, arms crossed over his chest as he took in the sight.

"No, that's not—It wasn't su-"

"Supposed to be like this?" Steve spoke, his voice filling the air, drawing you from your thoughts. You looked at him, moving to take another drink from the glass, only to find it empty. He watched your hands, gripping the glass until your skin turned paler than your normal complexion.

Eddie leaned in your direction, hand coming out to rest at your thigh. You and Steve’s eyes followed the motion, time standing still.

“So, what did you want to speak with us about sweetheart?” The emphasis on their pairing echoed in the spacious living area, his vowels drawing out with an exaggeration that had your heart sinking.

“I just wanted to…” you cleared your throat, leaning to place the empty wine glass on the coffee table. “I was going to tell you that this isn’t working anymore.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised from his side of the coffee fable, he let out a low whistle at the words.

“Working with who?”

“Both. Both of you.” The two men nodded at your words, staring you down as you formulated your next words.

“You can’t keep up with the both of us?” Eddie asked, thumb beginning to rub small circles on your knee. Subconsciously, your knee began to pull closer to his, a familiar feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

“You want me to choose one of you, and I can’t do that,” you sighed, placing your hand over his. He grinned at the touch, leaning into you even closer. Steve shifted nervously, watching the two of you. Even from here, you felt guilty, you making contact with the older man felt like you were choosing.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve spoke up, moving to sit on the other side of you. You felt caged in.

A deep sigh left you, nerves returning as your sides began to warm up, the heat from their bodies entering you in the close proximity.

“I-I do, and it’s not fair.”

Your voice remained small as you removed your hand from him, clasping them in your lap. Leaning your back against the couch cushion, you found comfort in the ceiling, eyes searching the white paint.

“You’re right. It’s not fair,” Steve said, placing his own hand on your thigh.

It rested higher than Eddie’s, his own eyes acknowledging that and taking it as competition. His fingers left your knee, drifting up until it rested where your hip bone was. A shuttered gasp left your mouth, legs twitching under the contact. He leaned into you, mouth brushing the cusp of your ear, lips softly brushing the skin.

“You don’t have to choose just one,” he whispered, your eyes widening at the tone in his voice. “You could have us both.”

You shot up, shaking their hands off of you as you rose from the couch. Steve rose his hands in defense, while Eddie remained still, leaning on the couch cushion in the same position he was speaking to you. Looking in between them both, you were ready for them both to start laughing, pointing fingers at you, hell, even Robin coming out of somewhere and joining in on the joke.

“That’s not funny, Eddie.”

He shrugged, corners of his mouth downturning as you stared him down. The look on his face was still in good humour, glimmer behind his eyes.

“I’m not kidding. Stevie here was the one who suggested it.”

Your eyes cut to the him, disbelief in every inch of your body. He had been the most territorial of this entire ordeal, making lewd comments about Eddie that made you assume he couldn’t stand him, let alone even suggest this.

“Steve?” The shake behind your voice had him reaching up to you, placing a hand on your hip. You stepped away from it, eyes slightly dropping when he looked disappointed.

“You weren’t going to choose,” his voice seemed hesitant. “I wasn’t going to make you. And if you like Eddie… as much as you like me, I figured it would work.”

Eddie snorted, grabbing your hand to pull him into you despite your protest. You fell into his lap, snug against his hips with your legs in Steve’s direction.

“I think you mean as much as she likes me, pretty boy,” he blew a kiss in the younger’s direction, winking to follow. Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the gesture. You lingered on his face, noticing how his cheeks reddened ever so slightly. Eddie’s hand found your cheek, cupping it as he brought your gaze to him.

Inches away from his face, your noses brushed each other, your breath getting caught in the back of your throat. Slowly, your mouths met, lips parted as his fit perfectly in between. His tongue ran over your bottom lip, a small nip given to you. You felt a hand run across your calf, pulling away from Eddie to see Steve, eyes running over the sight of your legs, palms spreading over your skin.

Eddie pulled you into a kiss again, your eyes unmoving from Steve as he leaned over to place a few kisses at the bend of your knee. You gasped into his mouth, spreading your legs as Steve began to spread his love across your skin.

“Wait, I—” all hands left your skin, leaving you feeling naked. The two of them waited for your next move, eyes blinking in anticipation. “Steve, you’re okay with this?”

He slowly nodded, seemingly thinking over the answer. He opened his mouth to speak, words getting caught in your throat.

“I—yeah, I am. I mean, uhh, I’d do anything for you,” his voice was sincere, quiet into the room as Eddie began pressing his mouth to your neck. You craned your neck, eyes fluttering shut at the press of his mouth.

“And Eddie?” Your voice strained, moan intertwined with it.

He nodded vehemently, teeth scraping against your jugular. He mumbled against you, “Fuck yes. The two of you are, like, insanely hot.”

Steve blushed at his words, dipping his chin as he leaned over you, kissing you the length of your legs until he reached your hipbones. You were stretched across Eddie’s lap, his hands running madly over your torso. With your eyes closed, you felt absolute bliss, mouths pressed against you, hands running wild, soft moans filling in the air in which you could barely decipher who they were coming from.

Steve’s fingers reached for your waistline, moving to bring down your shorts, only to be stopped by your fingers at his wrist. His eyes looked up at you, mouth parted open in surprise.

“There’s no way we’re doing this on the couch,” you said, standing up and pulling the two of them with you. “My parents are gonna kill me.”

They followed close behind you, trailing up the stairs as you lead them to your room. As your bedroom door swung open, you barely had time to walk in the room before Eddie was lifting you up, pushing you down on the bed before crawling over you. He was pulling off both of your clothes in a rush, throwing them all around the room in between getting his mouth anywhere he could touch.

“I think they might kill you for a couple of different reasons, sweetheart,” he gestured towards himself and Steve, swallowing the laugh that escaped you with his lips.

The bed dipped as Steve settled down next to you, kneeling from where you two were tangled amidst each other. Reaching for Steve’s shirt, you paused, realizing where this familiar graphic had came from.

“You’re wearing Eddie’s shirt,” you deadpanned, arching your back as Eddie kissed down your body, pulling your underwear down with his downward trail. The cold air hit your skin, wetness pooled between your thighs.

Steve’s cheeks reddened again, a nod coming before he crossed his arms at his chest, pulling it over his head.

“We had to, uhh, test things out earlier,” he quickly said, leaning down to kiss you. His mouth on yours for the first time that evening felt like heaven, a piece you didn’t realize was missing.

You slapped at his chest, mouth dropping.

“You’ve been playing me this entire time!”

Eddie’s tongue found you, circling your clit lightly before he delved in, mouth firmly planted at the nub. A curse fell from your mouth, hands shooting down to tug at his hair. Your head fell back against the duvet cover, Steve’s hand running through your hair as you tried to find your breathing.

It was sloppy, his tongue working you as loud noises filled the room. He ate you like he was starved, lapping up your wetness, diving his tongue into you, kissing the junction of where your thighs met. He looked up at you, hair falling into his eyes as he flicked his tongue, drawing pleasure from the sensitive nub.

“We had to beat you at your own game,” Steve whispered, pulling down his boxers until he sprung out, cock dripping. Your mouth fell open at the sight, tongue running over you bottom lip. He began to run a hand over it, fingers trailing from his wet head to his shaft, spreading a layer of the precum everywhere.

Leaning up on an elbow, you reached for him, wrapping your fingers around him before pressing your lips to the head. He groaned, fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you down on him, your mouth stretching wide the lower you swallowed him.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he groaned, hips making small thrusts as you sucked at him, cheeks hollowing.

Drool began to pool at the corner of your mouth, small groans caught in your throat as Eddie continued to tongue fuck you, his fingers running lightly over you clit. Your hips squirmed, trying to get more of him on you.

You pulled off of Steve, working him with your fist as you looked down at him.

“Need more, Eds.”

He nodded, smirking around you as he slipped in two fingers, pushing them to the knuckle, a curl in them. Your head tilted back a little bit, eyes briefly shutting at the pleasure that found you. A whine fell from you, your body tensing as he crooked his fingers, moving fast as squelching sounds began to fill the air.

Steve’s hand in your hair tightened, pulling you closer to him as your grip on him loosened.

“Okay, time to focus, baby,” he whispered, hand tight in your hair, the other placed on your chin, pulling you mouth open before you wrapped your lips around him. It was hard to even think straight, the feeling of his heavy cock on your tongue, Eddie’s tongue and fingers against you clouding every bit of judgement you had.

Your other hand rose to cup Steve’s balls, rolling them behind your fingers as he pushed you down to deep throat him. You couldn’t even be mad, used to the roughness he gave you, him often seeking his own high as fast as possible, he knew you loved feeling used in moments like this. Choking around him, you swirled your tongue on the underside of his dick, moaning at the pulse it gave you.

Eddie’s fingers gave you one last curl, that final push to your sweet spot that had your legs pulled up, squeezing around his head as you came, whining around Steve. He didn’t stop, fingering you through it, lapping at you as you shook below him, back arching off the bed as you squeezed your eyes shut. As you came down, the overstimulation hit you, aching between your legs as you pushed him off of you.

A laugh was heard as he crawled up to where you were sucking at Steve, body turned now to face him completely. Eddie’s ringed hand came up to lace with Steve’s, strands of your hair getting caught between your fingers.

“Aw, look at you, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s voice was rough, crouched down on the bed inches away from where your mouth met Steve.

He held eye contact with you, your hooded eyes watering at the way the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. His tongue traced over his lips as he stared down at your mouth working the younger man.

“Need more?” He asked you in a whisper, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nodded, pulling off of Steve to catch your breath. He whined at the loss of contact, cock so swollen now you were sure that it hurt.

Eddie patted your hip, bringing you to your knees. You kneeled on all fours, ass sticking up as Eddie began to move towards you. Steve’s hand shot out, gripping his shoulder.

“No fucking way, Munson,” he hissed, squeezing the base of his cock. Eddie rolled his eyes at him, pushing at his shoulder as Steve scrambled to get behind you instead. He stumbled over his boxers still pushed to the bottom of his thighs as he kicked them off, finally rising to his knees behind you.

“Come on, big boy,” you giggled, mocking Eddie’s nickname, wiggling your hips in his direction.

A hand placed at the base of your spine pushing you down as he ran a hand over his dick a few times, eyes rolling at you.

“Shut up,” he exhaled, pushing into you slowly as you stretched around him. The slow push inside had the two of you groaning, your fingers clawing at the sheets, you found Eddie’s hip, gripping at it tightly.

Eddie rose to his knees, bringing your body up with him.

“Ready?” He asked you, nodding along with you before he guided his cock into your mouth. He moved slowly, your head bobbing along him as you rocked from the thrusts that Steve gave you.

Being filled from both ends had you blinded in pleasure, eyes rolled back to your head as the two men began to use you. It started slow, the combined movements of their hips in sync. Your body felt limp, jolting with their movement, mouth wide, stretched full.

Steve found his rhythm, taking charge as he began to pound into you, hands on your hips, pulling you back into him. The harshness of it had you choking on Eddie, gagging around him, cock thick and dripping into the back of your throat. Loud slaps filled the air, Steve’s grunts accompanying the noise.

“You look so perfect, princess.”

You looked up at Eddie, tears prickling in your eyes. That white hot familiar heat bubbled within you, already at your breaking point. The two men were no match for you, you were turned on beyond belief.

“Fuck, look how good you’re taking him.”

Steve’s words this time, his voice low and raspy—mind in a different headspace. He was relentless, driving into you so fast, you were running from it, arching your hips down as the head of his dick began to press onto your cervix.

“Come here,” he grunted, driving your hips back onto him. You were pulled off of Eddie, a cry of pleasure and pain, you weren’t quite sure which one yet leaving you.

“Ca-can’t. ‘S too much.”

Your head shook, eyes squeezed shut as you pushed your hips back against him anyways. Eddie’s fingers found your chin again, pulling your head in his direction.

“Baby,” he whispered, you shaking your head as Steve fucked you, speeding up as he began to near his high. Your legs shook with pleasure, wetness dripping from you at this point.

“Look at him,” Steve grunted, pressing deep as he drove into you.

Your eyes shot open, squinting up at Eddie, his hair sticking to his neck and shoulders as the air became more dense. He guided you back onto him, keeping your mouth only at his tip as he jerked the rest of his length. His chest began to rise and fall rapidly, his tell tale sign of his own release.

“Oh, fuck.”

Steve’s whisper under his breath had his hips stilling, spilling into you with his hot, sticky release. He thrusted a few more times, pushing his cum deeper, some of it spilling out the sides of his cock. Pulling out of you, he leaned down, licking at your hole, stretched from his brutal force earlier.

It only took a few licks from him, licking at his own release, to have you screaming again, legs shaking as your own orgasm coursed through your body. It was the best one you think you’d ever experienced, mind going fuzzy, abdomen tensing, rolling waves of euphoria through your spine.

“Fuck, Steve—” Eddie groaned, jerking himself faster before pulling himself out of your mouth. “Are you— ah, fuck.”

His sentence cut off, cum spurting from his dick all over your face, the angle having it drip down your cheeks, lips, and all over your chin. It felt warm against you as you came down from your high, eyes fluttering shut and your tongue sticking out to catch the rest of it. Eddie groaned even more, pushing the head of his cock onto the flat of your mouth, smearing his release all over it.

You swallowed it, smiling up at the way he stared down out you, that dark look in his eyes. Steve collapsed next to the two of you, laying on his back as he rubbed a hand over his chest.

“You guys are so hot,” he mumbled to himself, not meaning to be heard. The two of you laughed at his words, Eddie leaning over to grab his shirt to wipe off your face.

He was gentle with the touch, wiping down your face with the material as he looked lovingly at you. The interaction was comical, the adoration he gave you while wiping his literal cum off of you.

The three of you settled in, Steve on his back, you laying across him, cheek on his sternum as Eddie laid on top of you, his own head on your hip.

“Did you guys really know I was talking to you both at the same time?” You asked, voice small. Eddie snorted, shaking his head before Steve reached out and slapped him. He shushed him, cutting him a look. They seemed to be in on some inside joke you weren’t apart of.

“Hey, I don’t like that you guys are keeping secrets now,” you whined, reaching down to rub at the top of Eddie’s head. He leaned into the touch, pressing a kiss to your hip.

“No, it was, uhh, Robin,” Steve confessed, rushing out his words in one breath. Your eyes widened, looking at him in shock. Eddie stifled a laugh, coughing to cover his tracks.

“I’m going to kill her,” you said. You shouldn’t have been surprised that she said something after, you knew your best friend to start shit, always lurking in quiet corners.

Covering your face with your hands, you let out a groan. You felt Steve’s body shake with laughter, his own hands coming up to pull your hands away.

“Shh, it’s fine,” he joked, rubbing circles into your hair. You shook your head, a deep sigh coursing through you.

“I mean, look where we are now,” Eddie whispered, wrapping his arms around you as he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, settling into you as he began to search for sleep. You felt it creeping onto you, energy drained.

“I’m still confused on what this even is.” Steve hummed in agreement, his hands stilling on you as he closed his own eyes.

The three of you fell into a pattern of slow breaths, slight shifts that moved the other person’s body, yet still one together. These two around you were the missing pieces you figured you were missing your entire life, emptiness deep in the pit of your soul that you’d never figured would be missing. Being with them separately was one thing, but together it made sense.

“I’m sure we can figure it out, hon,” Eddie mumbled, pulling you closer to him. Steve moved with you, a tangle of limbs on top of each other that would soon be the normal.

a/n: this was supposed to come a lot faster than it did, so I’m sorry but here it is :) tags: @emma-munson @username199945

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#my writing #Steddie x reader #Steddie x you #Steve Harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson x reader #Steddie smut #steve harrington smut #Eddie Munson smut #smut #requests

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