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daycourtofficial · 2 days

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I will follow you into the dark

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3k | warnings: character death, depictions of violence and gore, depressive tendencies shown

Summary: going through the five stages of grief after Azriel’s death is much easier with his shadows’ assistance

Alternate summary: “daycourtofficial stabs everyone in the heart” - @milswrites

Author’s note: this is heartbreaking as hell but I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever written. I legitimately sobbed while typing this. Tagging my pookie @illyrianbitch bc I sent her an early draft and her fic ‘when the heart is still longing’ inspired a scene in this

Cold. Ruthless. Calculated.

Words used to describe who Azriel was for the first five hundred years of his life. He wore a mask of indifference, a cold exterior to the world, letting them believe he was nothing more than the cruel exterior he showed everyone past his beloved family.

Until he met you.

You, whose extraordinary kindness and never ending patience for him helped him through the darkest pits of his soul.

It’s this past self he thinks about as the blade meets his skin, tearing through layers of muscle, blood spilling down his chest as it’s removed.

It’s this past self he reaches out to, begging for one moment to go back. To go back and save himself so much time. He would go back, his wings carrying him across Prythian, his landing harsh as he sprinted through your hometown.

He wouldn’t stop until he knocked on your door, his knuckles aching from how hard he would knock. He’d give anything to go back, even if it was just an extra forty-five minutes. He would run until his lungs burned, his legs barely able to hold himself up. He’d run down the cobbled street the two of you would walk down after a night at Rita’s, leaning against each other for support after a night of drinking.

He’d run past the bakery the two of you would meet at every Thursday morning, splitting pastries between the two of you and gossiping about your friends. He’d run up the stairs to your apartment, running up the steps you two walked thousands of times. He’d stop in front of that green door, the spot you two stood in for your first kiss.

He would knock and knock and knock, his fingers bleeding from how hard his knuckles were hitting the wood. He’d look at you as you opened the door, confused as to who he was and what he was doing there.

“You don’t know me, but in a few days I’m going to run into you at the bookstore. I’ll be with my friend Nesta and she’ll push me into you. She’s never admitted it, but I think she saw how I was staring at you and did it to force me to talk to you.

“You were so pretty, paging through some novel. I owe Nesta everything for pushing me into you, making me fall into the chair you were sitting in. It looked ridiculous - Nesta made sure to let Feyre broadcast it to everyone.

“I never cared. You were everything then, and you’ve been everything to me for over a century. What I wouldn’t give to come back here, to find you earlier, even just forty-five minutes. I’d give anything for more time with you.”

His eyes would peer around the apartment you moved out of decades and decades ago, moving all of your furniture into the house a ten minute walk from here. It would all smell like you, not a trace of him on you yet.

He would beg and plead with any god as to why he deserves just one extra minute of your time.

But he’s not in that apartment that you don’t own anymore, he’s somewhere in the present, he thinks. Azriel’s not sure where he is, but he reaches out towards you, trying to send every ounce of his love down that bridge that connects the two of you. He reaches a hand out, wanting to hold you one last time. He can feel your fear thrumming his chest as your hands frantically apply pressure to his neck, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.

He interrupts your pleas, stroking his fingers on your cheek, smearing his blood across it.

You’re here, he thinks.

He loved making you blush, your own blood changing the color of your cheeks as he flirted with you. Now his own blood was coloring your skin, a last marking of himself on you.

Every word from his mouth caused the blood to gush from his wound, but he didn’t care. He was fighting for every breath, every word. He knew this was the end. He was just grateful to the Mother that the last thing he’d see in this life was you.

He chokes on his blood, coughing exacerbating the wound.

“In every life.”

He pulls himself up, using your shoulders to brace himself. He pulls your lips to his, soft and delicate, as if it’s the first time he’s kissing you all over again. As if you’re back on that cobblestone street, the two of you standing right in front of your door, a mess of limbs and lips.

The blood on his neck is traded for the tie he wore, one that you had complimented him on as you saw him. You had pulled him down to you by his tie, pulling him to your lips.

And now he was pulling himself up to you, a final goodbye.

He pours everything into it, pouring every last bit of himself through the string connecting the two of you, clinging desperately to that connection for every moment.

You kiss him back just as urgently, hands holding his wounds. His mouth is salty as your tears start running into the kiss, your hands sticky and warm with his blood.

Your kisses become more and more urgent as he starts losing energy, your sense of urgency increasing as he starts fading, that golden bridge connecting the two of you not as bright as it was with each passing moment.

You know he stopped kissing you back a moment ago, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. This should be a fairytale and true love’s kiss is enough to bring someone back.

You pull back, moving his face into your neck, unable to let go. You can’t hear anything except the echo of where your bond was, as if it clanged all the way down your body as it disconnected you from him. You feel someone grip your shoulders, desperate to pull you away from your mate. Your sobs are piercing as you tighten your grip on him.

He’s still warm, he can come back. Still warm, he’ll be back. You start rocking with him in your arms, your tears creating tracks in the blood on your face. A body is pressed to your back, large and warm, and large tan hands cover your own on Azriel’s face. You hear slight sounds, you think it might be Cassian, but you’re not sure.

You don’t feel his tears on your neck

All you feel is a deep, gaping hole inside of you where Azriel lives.

Lived.

Your breaths come fast and choppy, and you start jerking in Cassian’s arms, the feeling of him too much, too much. You felt suffocated, your powers boiling within you as his body grows colder.

His shadows slithered over you, several of them still remaining with their master. Their patterns were meant to be soothing, but it wasn’t working. Several of them cloak Azriel in mourning, their usual energetic nature dulled in the aftermath.

The air in the room changes as all the heat is sucked into your body, your skin blazing. It happens so quickly - you feel Cassian pull away from you as someone slides Azriel’s body from yours, somebody else rushing forward and tackling you to the ground. Instead of hitting hard flooring, your head hits grass, your body racing with adrenaline.

You look up to find Rhysand letting go of you before backing up. He has tears down his face, his eyes a muddier shade of violet than before.

“Let it out. Here. Now.”

Your skin is boiling, everything in you desperate for release. All you feel is the tendril of a lone shadow around your ankle as you burn. You can’t hear Rhys’s sobs, only the roaring of the fire as the grass catches the spark.

The next week goes by in a blur. A funeral - one where the town of black wore deep blue to honor your mate’s lifetime of sacrifice. A few shadows remain with you, the only reason you’re able to get through his funeral is with their touch.

“Hey Az.”

The grass is wet with dew, the early morning fog sticking to it. You don’t notice how damp the ground is beneath you as you sit next to him. Your hands grasp the grass next to his grave, the dirt over his grave too fresh for anything to be growing on top of it.

Your fingers thread through the blades, holding tightly, as if you can uproot them and pull him back to the surface, back to you. As if you kept digging you could find that bond nestled within you somewhere.

Your lip wobbles as you try to say something, anything. The various flower arrangements that surround you both speak of how many visitors he’s had.

He would tell you that the bouquet of orange lilies are from Elain, because those are currently in bloom in Day. He would tell you that the arrangement of blue and black came from Rhysand and Feyre, the flowers meaning ‘a great sacrifice’.

You can’t bring yourself to tell him how the world has become duller in his absence, how you hardly eat or bathe, hardly leave your home at all. How Nesta and Feyre take turns visiting you, ensuring you eat and bathe, getting you to move your legs at least once a day.

He’d be disappointed you weren’t taking care of yourself. He’d want you to continue on, despite the unbearable horrors that live in your chest. It felt like your entire ribcage were burst open, your pain and sadness leaking out of every pore for all to see.

Despite the fact that centuries together have led you here, at the end of the road. A road you happily traveled, knowing it would end here eventually.

You’d never regret choosing him, opening yourself up to this inevitable heartache.

You just regret every moment that happens now that he’s gone.

His shadows have followed you to the cemetery, their presence one you’re grateful for. You know they love you, much like Azriel did, and you’ll take any part of him you can cling onto.

You know they’ll leave eventually. No one understood them. Were they sentient beings? Or were they mere whispers of Azriel’s presence, an echo of an echo of his power, disappearing whenever they wish?

You sit, your back leaned against his tombstone, the words “beloved mate” pressing into your back. You moved over, wanting to be as close as possible to him. You don’t much care if the dirt sticks to your skirts. Nuala and Cerridwen won’t say anything to you. They felt his absence too.

You push your hand into the dirt, grasping at it in hopes he’ll grasp your hand back. All you feel are the shadows swarming your fingertips, imitating his soft touch.

You lay in your bed, the one that is much too large without your mate. The shadows cloak over you like a blanket, carrying his smell with them.

They missed him too.

You sealed some of Azriel’s clothes away, a magical enchantment that preserved their smell. You were grateful you had the shadows for now, however fleeting their presence may be.

Where Nesta and Feyre helped you bathe, the shadows helped keep your room clean. You stayed in the House of Wind, everyone agreeing you shouldn’t be alone during this time. That was weeks ago, you think.

You’re not really sure.

Time wasn’t moving like it used to anymore. Hours and days pass without your notice, a gray fog hanging over you at all times. You move through the monotony of grief, unaware of your surroundings or how you get anywhere half the time.

You blink and find yourself at his grave.

“It was supposed to be me,” you half yell at the grave marker, your blood getting warmer with your anger.

You hate it. You hate how everything he was, six centuries of a life well-lived, were boiled down to adjectives and monikers.

“Beloved mate.”

“Beloved brother.”

You hated those words, as if that’s all he were. The words don’t tell how he would pick you up when you fell asleep reading and carry you to bed, how he’d help you cheat every time you played cards against Cassian because you laughed so hard whenever he flipped the table, or how his fingers would brush the hair from your face when the two of you cooked dinner every night.

‘Beloved’ is nothing to how your chest felt when he’d come home and see you before he updated Rhysand after being gone so you knew he was okay.

‘Brother’ is not enough to convey how much he loved Rhysand and Cassian, how much love and sacrifice they poured into each other.

“You said I could go first. You promised. And now I’m here, alone, without you. And I don’t- I don’t know how to do it.”

You were yelling, screaming at this slab of granite. You kicked the flowers on the grave, watching them fly through the air as the petals fell.

Yellow for friendship.

“It was supposed to be me! Not you!”

You tug at your hair before you lose all your strength, sinking into the grass covering his grave. Your tears resemble morning dew as they cling to the grass, your knees becoming green with the contact. A few shadows wind through your hair, a few others bring back the bouquet you kicked, placing the flowers back where they were, albeit a bit damaged.

“You’ve never broken a promise before.”

Your voice is weak, the stone in front of you unresponsive to your breakdown.

Life moves on. Everyone feels Azriel absence - even Lucien, so full of words is quieter around you. They don’t know how to talk to you anymore, your life becoming more and more hollow as the mating bond in your chest decays, growing into a moldy, decaying thing that turned you rotten.

Why him? Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? Why was it your mate - the one who sacrificed everything all of the time? Why wasn’t it Cassian or Rhysand or any of his spies?

Anyone but him.

You’d do anything.

The days keep moving, the forward progress of time a joke to you. Or perhaps you were the joke to the Mother. You slug through the days, finally able to bathe and dress yourself, but struggling to remember to eat.

Then the voices start.

It’s one soft voice, one you could hear in any lifetime, any world and know who it belonged to. His voice soft as ever delicately telling you to eat, coming and going on the wind around mealtimes.

You listened to it. You could never stay no to him, even if it was just an echo of him living in his shadows.

It was well known amongst his family members that Rhysand required his beauty sleep. Eight hours minimum of undisturbed slumber.

Which is why he is tearing through his house on a warpath at whoever is at his door at 2:30 in the morning. He angrily slung on a robe, harshly opening his door, ready to chew out who lay on the other side.

He did not expect to find you, panic stricken, shadows swirling around you.

Your sobs fill his ears, “they won’t stop, Rhys. They keep telling me everything. That Feyre’s asleep, Nyx is asleep and cooing. Cassian’s snoring, Nesta’s awake and brewing tea. They won’t stop.”

You start to collapse, but the shadows hold you up long enough for Rhysand to grab you and bring you in through the threshold.

He places you down on the couch and inspects the shadows swirling around you. He watches them flit about, some moving away, some circling you. He steps on one as it slithers past him, holding it in place.

He looks at you as he grabs the shadow, holding it between his thumb and forefinger, watching it wiggle in his grasp.

“Is this the first time they’ve spoken to you?”

You shake your head no, whispering, “they speak one at a time usually. And not like this.”

His gaze is sympathetic, sitting you on his sofa. “What do they usually say?”

You look down at your shoes, a sense of shyness overcoming you. You pick at your pants, “mostly to eat and take care of myself.”

You hum, remembering, “last week one of them told me Nyx was going to fall, which is how I caught him so quickly.”

Rhys’s eyes are penetrating as he gazes at you, his eyes are a curious shade of violet.

“Can we try something?”

Months later, you return home, the black of your clothes hiding the blood soaked within them. You traipse through the foyer, forgetting it was even family game night. Their conversations halt at your appearance. Despite wearing the same colors of the Night Court, the black looks like a deeper shade on you.

Or perhaps the shadows circling you made you look as if you belonged amidst them rather than the fae looking at you.

You nod to Rhys, your only form of communication these days. He nods back, a strained smile on his lips, devastated to watch what you’ve become, grateful he made a pact with Feyre to never continue on without her.

You don’t miss how his hand squeezes her a little too tight.

Your family watches as you step back into the shadows, the darkness consuming you once more. You prefer to stay in them instead of being alone. You linger in their embrace, their consumption of you everything you need, the remnants of Azriel’s scent lingering in this liminal space. You inhale his scent once more, tears stinging your eyes. In the darkness that surrounds you, never knowing where you end or begin, not knowing exactly where in the world you were.

Where nothing and everything existed, floating through your mate’s truest companions, you hear his voice calling to you, the soft tenor of his voice coming from a direction you can’t quite pinpoint.

Or perhaps it was only an echo.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

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not-neverland06 · 1 day

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How About a Nuke?

Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII

Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: @weakling-grace did some fanart for the series that I absolutely adore! And I want you all to look at it. It’s on her blog, or reposted on mine under the tag How about a nuke? Summary: The wound’s infected. It shouldn’t be, but here you are anyway, barely holding on to life. You make it as far as you can and then it’s up to him to decide whether you get to live or die.

“Have I told you yet that you are the most gorgeous woman in this room?” You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face even if you tried.

“Only about a dozen times.” His hand reaches for yours across the table and you take it eagerly, linking your fingers together and enjoying the way his hazel eyes linger on yours. You could get lost in them, as cliche as it sounds. You and about every other woman in the world fell in love when you first saw those smiling eyes on the silver screen.

“I’ll just have to tell you a dozen more.”

God, you would swoon if you could. But, unfortunately, you are in the middle of a very nice restaurant and you’re sure they wouldn’t enjoy your fainting spell. It’s not like you could help it, he was so effortlessly charming, everything he said with that rasping accent of his sounded like music to you.

Your smile slipped slightly when you caught two women staring at you both. They weren’t even trying to hide it, pointing and whispering behind their hands. You clenched your jaw, trying your best not to let the anger show on your face. But he caught it anyway.

Cooper dropped your hand and tucked his back in his lap. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, they caught his eye and gasped, stopping their cruel whispers. You opened your mouth to try and make him feel better but he interrupted you, “Hey-”

“I told you this was gonna happen sweetheart.” You hated how sad he sounded, how resigned he was to his new place in life. It was no secret that most of your fellow actors despised him now just because he did a few ad campaigns for Vault-Tec. But that didn’t mean the rest of the world did. There were still plenty of people who adored Cooper and asked for his autograph.

Granted, those ladies clearly weren’t fans, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you got spotted together in public and rumors started up again. You didn’t care what that meant about future roles. “I want to be with you, Coop, but I can’t keep having this same conversation over and over again.” You sighed and finally drew your hand back to yourself, he tracked the movement like a hawk.

“If this is too much,” you forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat and put on a stilted smile. “If being with me in the public eye is too much then maybe we should-”

“Enough,” he reached back over and forced his hand into yours. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about you.” He stopped you before you could interrupt him, giving you a knowing smile. “I know that you don’t care what being around me does to your career, but I do. There’s no reason for the both of us to be washed up celebrities.”

“Hey, you’re not washed up, plenty of people still want to see you on the silver screen.”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He squeezed your hand once before letting go and picking up his fork, “Let’s just enjoy our meal, sweetheart.”

“Pick up the pace! I’m not gonna wait for you forever, sweetheart.”

You glared at him and leaned on a tree for support. You’re not sure what’s going on. You feel hot under your skin but also like you’re freezing, you’d thrown up twice during night watch and you’re about five seconds away from keeling over.

Your sweaty palm slips against the bark and you go sliding over. You hear his boots stomping through the grass before they stop in front of you. Rough hands steady your shoulders and shove you upright again. His eyes rove across your face, the muscles above his eyes turning down in concern.

“Shit, you look like,” he trailed off, “well, to be perfectly honest you look like shit.”

You laughed but it came out strangled and he flinched back in disgust when you started coughing. “Good to know you’re still a gentleman, Cooper.”

He sighed and led you over to a rotted log. You threw yourself down on it, wincing as it jarred your sensitive stomach. The gash was aching a lot more than it should.

When you’d been shot, you could barely even feel it by this point. Now the wound was burning, itching so bad you just wanted to rip the stitches out with your bare hands. Your head rolls back and you clench your eyes shut as another wave of nausea goes through you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, rattling like a hummingbird in a cage.

He kneels in front of you and reaches for your shirt. You lean back on your hands to give him better access. “Stimpak should have worked by now,” he mutters. He pulls your shirt higher up on your abdomen and hisses through his teeth.

“What is it?” Your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth and the words come out garbled.

“Shit!” He yanks your shirt down and reaches for your bag, digging through it until he finds another one of the Stimpaks you’d taken.

You’d be more panicked if your head wasn’t floating right now. “What is it?” He doesn’t answer you, he hovers the injector over his mouth and lets the medicine shoot in. You wince when he immediately turns to spit it into the grass.

He wipes the back of his mouth and chuckles. “Should’ve fucking known,” he mutters. He goes through the rest of the supplies you’d grabbed and starts chucking them further into the forest.

You’re getting pissed off now. Pissed off and worried, you just needed him to talk to you, tell you what’s going on. “Cooper!” You snap, hand clutched over the burning wound on your stomach. He sighs and looks up at you. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“Fakes,” he says, mouth set in a firm line and eyes hard against your worried gaze. “See, darlin’, some people like the men we met last night hand out fake supplies.” If you weren’t so worried you’d be mad about how condescending he sounds.

“They take empty injectors and fill ‘em with chems to keep people sick and coming back to them. It’s a steady income,” he says, like it’s a respectable career. “Your wound is infected, probably only worsened by whatever chem they put in the Stimpak I stuck you with.”

Your eyes are wide with horror. You can’t decide what’s worse, that you’ve essentially been poisoned and are probably experiencing sepsis right now. Or that people were capable of being so cruel and profited off of it. He pulls your canteen out of your bag and unscrews the cap. He holds the water up to your nose, “Sniff.” You do and he waves his hand, prompting you to tell him what exactly you smelled.

“Smells like metal,” you shrug, not sure what that means.

“Infected and you’ve got rad poisoning.” At your confused glance he continues, “Water’s not purified either, sweetheart. Whatever you got is about to get a hundred times worse.” When he turns his back to put the water back in your bag you finally risk a glance down at your stomach.

You wished you hadn’t because you’re immediately bending over to throw up what was left of your rations. The skin has swelled over the stitches, practically swallowing the black thread. The place the knife went in is red and puckered, pus forming at the corners. The sides of your stomach have an odd green tint that you’re trying not to think about too hard, most likely a side effect of whatever chem you’d been dosed with.

He presses the canteen into your hand and you shake your head from where it is between your knees. “Can’t, radiation.”

He laughs, the sound unkind, “It’s a bit late for that, honey.” You snatch the water out of his hand and gulp down as much as you can stomach. It’s not much, the taste of the water is too metallic and bitter for you. “The place we’re going, they’ve got medicine. We get you there and I’m sure I can work something out with them.”

You know what that really means. He’ll get paid for his bounty and then he’ll get what he wants, whether they offer it freely or not. “If I get there,” you mutter, still holding back the rest of your breakfast.

“Enough,” he snaps. His hand wraps around your elbow and he yanks you to your feet. “We need to get a move on, power through.” If you had the strength, you’d slap him again.

“Here you go,” he placed a bowl down on the coffee table, steam still wisping over the edge. He sat down beside you on your couch and brushed some hair away from your face and you leaned into the warmth of his palm. You were freezing but he seemed to think you were burning up.

“Did you make me soup?” Your voice is groggy with sleep. He helps you into a sitting position and hands you the bowl.

“No,” he laughs a little and leans back against the cushions, arm spreading out behind you and pulling you into him. “But I warmed it up for you.”

“Cooper,” you whisper.

“Get a move on!” He shouts from a couple yards ahead. “You either move your ass or I’ll leave you here, because I’m sure as shit not carrying you.”

Oh shit.

Hallucinating is never a good sign. You would swear on everything above that you were just on your couch with Cooper. You could still feel the warmth of the bowl in your hands, the old plush fabric of your couch on your cheeks.

You swallowed down bile and did your best to catch up to him. You blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the fog over your eyes, but it didn’t help much. It took you a minute to realize it was from the sweat dripping down your brow and burning against your retinas that was causing the problem.

You glanced around, surprised to find yourself surrounded by sand. Weren’t you just in the forest? You lifted a shaking hand to try and get rid of the glare of the sun. He was walking closer to you now, keeping a keener eye on you. You trip over your own feet for the inth time and try to keep pushing yourself.

“Any chance we could dim those?” You squint and point up to the lights hanging above the set and one of the PA’s runs off to fulfill your request. You shake your boots out, tired of all the sand that’s been getting in them. You understand you’re meant to be chasing an outlaw through the “Wild West” but this is getting ridiculous.

You’ve done about a hundred retakes of this scene, you’re not sure when the director is going to admit defeat but you hope it’s soon. You don’t know why the studio is even bothering to do cowboy stuff anymore. Everyone knows since Coop was forced out of the industry no one’s wanted to see these types of movies.

The actor you’re working with this time is a dick. He’s commanding and rude, he’s got no sense of boundaries either. Or a nose.

What the fuck?

He stands over top of you and you finally realize that you’ve collapsed into the sand. You let your head fall back and rub your forehead. One second you’re on a set and the next you’re in the Wastelands at the end of the world. You’re struggling to remember which version of reality is real and which isn’t.

“I mean it,” he threatens, “I ain’t carrying you.” Your hand flops uselessly to your side, muscles fatigued and the burning in your gut sucking the energy out of you. The only part of yourself you’re physically aware of is the stab, you can’t feel anything else. You can’t twitch your toes or wiggle your fingers, everything is off kilter. “Alright then,” he leans down and yanks your arm over his shoulder.

Before you’re processing what’s happening the world is being tilted on its axis and you’re being hauled to your feet. You don’t remember much about traveling through the sands. Everything is one long blur of red and orange. When the air in front of you starts to get wavy your eyes lose focus and you black out.

She nearly made it. They’re only about an hour away from this compound he’s been trying to get her to. He sighs, looking down at her prone form in the sand. There’s sweat beading along her forehead, her lips are cracked and split and her face has an unusual tint to it that can’t mean anything healthy.

He squats down next to her and debates how he wants to go about this. The wound on her stomach has only gotten worse since they started walking, it’s just looking angrier and angrier. With how infected it is, it’s possible that even a stimpak might not help her now.

He could leave her here, get the bounty, and go on his merry way. He could shoot her, put her out of her misery and leave. Or he could throw her over his shoulder and walk the last hour to the compound, hoping that whatever they have there will help. No matter what choice he makes, it’s her life in his hands.

His hand drifts forward, brushing the hair off her cheek and lingering on the soft skin there. He sighs before scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder, she whines, her wound rubbing against his shoulder and probably causing her a heap of pain. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, though, as long as she was feeling something that was a good sign.

“Nearly there, sweetheart,”; he muttered. He tuned into her shallow breathing, the long pauses before her next breath and let that be what keeps him going. She better not fucking die on him. He grunts, shifting her higher up on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around her legs.

He could feel how hot she was through each layer of their clothing. This was more than just the sun, she seemed like she was about to combust. “Cooper,” she whimpers. He frowns, she’s been muttering to herself since they left the forest. Talking about things that weren’t possible.

He’s seen it before, with infection or rad poisoning, the hallucinations start pretty early. Only problem is, he’s never met anyone who lasted as long as her. She should have been dead hours ago. He has no idea what’s keeping her going, but she better fucking hold onto it.

You laughed, your dress swirling around your legs like a blooming red flower as he spun you through the room. His hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you back into his chest. You smiled at him and he reached up to brush the hair out of your face.

Sinatra’s smooth voice cracked and then began to stutter. You laughed again but Cooper just rolled his eyes and walked over to fix the record. You smoothed out your dress and sat down on his couch, reaching for his glass of whiskey on the table.

You took a sip, hoping for some liquid courage, and regretted it. You’d momentarily forgotten your distaste for alcohol. You tried to fight the tickle in your throat but failed, you probably ruined your lipstick with how hard you started to cough.

He walked over to you and chuckled, taking his glass from your hands and stealing a swig. “Can’t handle your liquor, honey?”

“I can,” you wiped your mouth and gave him a playful glare. “That just tastes absolutely disgusting.” He smiled and took a seat beside you, arm draped behind you. He crossed a leg over his knee and titled himself to face you. You found yourself taking a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the question you were going to ask.

“Everything alright?”

You glanced down at your dress and fiddled with the hem of it. “I know the divorce was finalized a few days ago,” Cooper looked away from you, his face hardening, and reached forward to place his glass back on the table. Your heart leapt into your throat at the way he slammed it down. Maybe this was a mistake.

You know when Barb came over to pick up Janey yesterday they’d gotten into a fight. You didn’t know what exactly it was they fought about, you’re pretty sure it had to do with you. But it didn’t truly matter. She always found a way to rile him up. You’d been hoping that coming by tonight might make him feel a little better, but he still seemed to have a residual tenseness to him.

Bringing the divorce up after one of their fights isn’t smart. But you need to talk about this and he’s been avoiding the conversation for a while now.

He ran a hand down his face and sighed, “What about it?”

“I was just wondering what that means for us?”

He scoffed and glanced over at you. The look he’s giving you, you’re certain the fight was about you now. He’s never looked this angry with you, “For us?” You nodded and he shook his head, standing up and heading towards his room. “It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart stuttered in your chest, eyes burning as he slammed the door to his room without another word. You let your head fall into your hands and took a few deep breaths. You knew you shouldn’t have asked that.

“That was a mistake,” you muttered.

“The hell are you telling yourself back there?” Your eyes peeled open and you frowned, you seemed to be looking at something that looked a hell of a lot like Cooper’s backside. You tilted your head to the side to find the world upside down and something stabbing repeatedly in your stomach.

You clawed your way up Cooper’s jacket, shakily holding yourself up so you could stare down at him. “Settle,” he warns, like you’re a damn horse.

“Put me down,” you mutter, weakly kicking out your feet and trying to get off of him. He just shakes his head and shoves you back down. You let him, not having much fight left in you anyway.

“Just,” he pauses, “keep dreamin’,” the words seem to pain him and you wonder why. You don’t linger on it long, letting your head hang against his back before the world is going dark again.

She keeps muttering Cooper in her sleep. He knows what she’s thinking about. Their old times together, when everything was just dandy and the world was as sweet as peaches. Well, he wasn’t some saint back then neither. He had his own problems, vices, same as any man.

Only difference between then and now is that he doesn’t have to hide who he is. Doesn’t have to worry about the public’s opinion or how his job will be affected if he speaks his mind. Cooper’s no better than the Ghoul.

He sighs, barely even believing himself. She whimpers in her sleep, the noise strangled and pained. He squeezes her leg, barely even noticing the action, in an attempt to bring some minute form of comfort. She never should have dived in front of that blade, it was stupid of her.

Course, she couldn’t have known that he would have healed, it’s not like he ever told her that. But she shouldn’t have risked it anyway, he wasn’t worth her dying for.

He can see a large building about a mile ahead as he crests the ridge of the dune he’s walking on. The compound, nearly there. “Hold on,” he’s not sure who he’s talking to but it doesn’t matter. She’s made it this far, she’ll make it a few more minutes.

“Stop right there!” Only one armed guard comes out from behind the gate of the compound. He scoffs, fucking amateurs. He drops her to the ground at his feet with as much care as he can, which isn’t a lot. Slowly, he raises his hands as the guard approaches, the tip of his rifle pressing into the hardened skin of his chest. “State your business.”

Well, someone liked making themself feel important, he was gonna have a field day beating this boy black and blue. For now, he simply smiled at him, unbothered by the gun. “I’ve got a bounty to deliver.”

“Alright, hand it over.” He reached into his pockets and the boy’s trigger finger twitched dangerously. He pulled out the only thing they’d wanted from the body, dog tags, and held them out for the boy to take. He darted forward, trying to snatch them but he yanked them out of the guard’s grip.

He lunged, wrapping a hand around the barrel of the rifle and yanking it out of the kid’s hands. He tucked the tags back in his pocket and pointed the barrel into the boy’s chest. His face blanched and he held up his shaky hands. “Not so big now, are you?” He kept the gun trained on him and leaned down to scoop her back up.

She was just cognizant enough to wrap an arm around his shoulder, keeping herself steady. “My friend here needs help. So help me boy, I swear if you fight me, I’ll slaughter everyone in that fucking place and just take what I want.”

He poked the gun into the boy’s chest and he jumped away from him with a frightened little whimper. With a grin, he bullied him into unlocking the gate and leading the both of them inside.

“Please-”

“Shut the fuck up and get me inside.” It didn’t take long, the kid seemed to be the only guard they had patrolling right now. He led the pair inside the compound and then shoved them inside a room.

“Here, you can clean her up here.” Before he could say anything the boy was running down the hall and out of sight. He figured they didn’t have long before the rest of the compound was alerted to what was going on.

He knew enough about the place to know they had a water purifier set up in the back and some odd little ditty they’d created to use water to generate power. Having a radiated ocean behind them was a lot more convenient than Cooper ever would have thought.

“Alright,” he propped her up on the bed and threw the boy’s rifle to the side. “Wake up, darling,” her eyelashes fluttered but she didn’t move. He used his teeth to pull off one of his gloves and pressed a hand to her clammy head. Still burning up. He cracked his hand across her cheek, chuckling at the way her eyes flew open.

“Come on,” he hoisted her up and shoved her towards the bathroom in the room. There were holes in the wall, the faucet was really a metal can with holes poked in it, but it was running water. Who was he to complain? He propped her up against the sink and cranked the odd lever in the wall. There was a loud rattling sound before water came pouring out of the rusted can. “Clean yourself up,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.

Barely a minute later he heard a loud crash and the sound of porcelain cracking. He ran back into the bathroom and found her half collapsed against the shower wall. What was left of the decrepit sink was broken on the ground, only the faucet sticking out of the wall. He sighed and looked over at her.

“I fell,” she muttered, a million little cuts bleeding on her arms.

He sighed and tugged his hat and gloves off, tossing them onto the bed outside. He came back in, pulling her away from the shower and straightening her up. She clung onto him, broken nails digging dully into his scarred arms. “Come on, sweetheart,” he tugged her shirt up, her arms slipping limply out of it.

Her wound was practically festered by now, turning a color that he knew meant she didn’t have much time to waste. He undid the button of her pants and knelt down, hands dragging down her legs and pulling her pants with them. She stepped out, hands braced on his shoulders and tripped slightly. He grabbed her thighs, steadying her and stood back up. He wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her from falling and leading her into the shower.

She sighed as the tepid water hit her back and he grimaced at the brown water pouring off of her. Maybe he should have let her clean up in that lake. He didn’t do much to help her as she cleaned herself up, mainly just stood there and let her hold onto him so she didn’t hurt herself further.

He cupped the back of her neck and helped her tilt her head back to clean out the rest of her hair. It was odd, being this close to her. Less because of how stark naked she was, and more because of just how vulnerable she was being. Like a deer rolling over and presenting its neck to a wolf. He could do anything to her, and she just let him hold her like this.

She leaned forward, clearly tired after moving around so much. Her head fell into his chest and she wrapped her arms around him tighter. She sighed, “I love you, Cooper.”

He flinched, knowing this was just a part of her delirium. Having running water for once was probably just confusing her more, making her think she was right back home. He leaned forward, lips pressed against her forehead and brushing some hair back. “No you don’t, darling.”

There was a knock on the door and he was quick to draw his gun. The door opened and a middle aged woman flanked by two guards stood smiling at him. She took in the gun in his hand but seemed unbothered by it or the threat he posed. “I hear you two need some help.”

“Mhm,” he glanced at the guards behind her but they didn’t seem particularly interested in reaching for their weapons. The woman took her in from where she lay on the bed, panting and sounding like she was struggling to get her breaths in. “I have a bounty to turn in, figured part of my payment could be you giving us a Stimpak. Then, we’ll be out of your hair.”

She laughed and took a step further into the room. He stood up now, gun pointed towards her slightly. She ignored him and took a peek at the festering wound. “She’ll need a lot more than a Stimpak. We can clean her up, don’t worry.” He didn’t get a chance to argue before the guards were coming in. He stepped out of the way as they grabbed you by the arms and legs, hauling you out of the room.

He made to follow them but the woman placed a hand on his chest. “Sylvie, I run the compound. The bounty?”

He sighed and fished the dog tags out of his pocket, passing them to her. He glanced out the door, trying to track the path they took you down. “She’ll be fine, trust me.”

He laughed and glanced over at her, “No offense, ma’am,” he says the title with a lack of respect that makes her brows furrow in irritation, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s not to trust anyone. No matter how pretty their promises are.”

She gave him a long look before smiling and motioning back towards the hall. “Follow me and we’ll go find her.”

They had a decent set up here. Not as nice as the vaults, clearly, but pretty good for surface dwellers. A decent supply of meds and rations, running water. Everything in the building might be run down or covered in mildew, with cracks in the wall, but it was better than the hovels he’d camped out in.

They’ve got her set up on cot, a bag of Radaway hooked up to her arm and her hair braided away from her face. They had to cut out the stitches he’d sewed and open the wound back up to flush it out. She’d been patched back up and while the skin still looked irritated it seemed to be doing a lot better than before.

He’d been keeping a close eye on her breathing and she’d finally stopped wheezing on every inhale. He figured another hour here and they could get the fuck out. These people were starting to bother him. Every half hour or so they would come in to check on her, the women would spray some water on her face and mutter something before running back out.

He seemed to scare them, enjoying the way they would avoid meeting his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to keep them away from her. Their insistence should’ve had alarm bells going off in his head, but he was already preoccupied worrying about her. He didn’t even notice when Slyvie came to stand beside him.

“She’ll be alright,” she tried to place a hand on his shoulder but the look he shot her had her stopping short. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and tucked her hands back behind her back. He gave her another long look before going back to staring at the girl on the bed.

“We have a place for her here, if you’re interested.”

He scoffed, “Room for us, huh?” He let himself picture it for a moment. He wouldn’t fucking stay, of course, he couldn’t. There’s no way, after two hundred years of wandering, that he could be locked down to one decaying old building. Showers or no. But he could always come by to visit her, stay a few nights and then leave again.

That’s assuming she’d even want him to visit. Didn’t matter, he’d come anyway. But, he couldn’t do that anymore. Couldn’t live that life even if it would be temporary. It just wasn’t in him. He stayed stagnant for too long and two hundred years of bloodshed and loss would drive him insane.

Sylvie shook her head and frowned. “I’m sorry, I should have been more clear. We have room for her, you have to understand, without a steady supply of Radaway we can’t risk having a ghoul here.” She moved towards her and brushed some hair out of her face, “Think about it.” She walked out and he stared blankly at the cot.

She shifted on the bed, face pained and mumbling something under her breath. Finally, her eyes fluttered open and she frowned. “Coop? What’s,” she trailed off, struggling to sit up and glancing around the room they were in. “What’s going on?”

“Relax, we’re at the compound.”

She rubbed her forehead and glared at him, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

He swatted her leg and she recoiled, “No, smartass. Just relax, we’ll be out of here soon.” She nodded and leaned back against the pillows they’d given her. It was odd, finally seeing her clean again. He could see clearly just how tired she looked. It was in her eyes, mainly, a weariness towards the world that left her exhausted.

He’s surprised she’s even made it this far without giving up. She’d been dealt some shit luck, but he supposed it was better she be exposed to how cruel the world was as quickly as possible. She groaned and her head flopped forward.

“What’s wrong with you now?”

“God,” she muttered, turning her face away from him and shaking her head. He huffed and sat up straight, glaring at the side of her face.

“Talk,” he demanded, not in the mood for games.

“I meant it,” she sounded pained, like the words had to be forced out. “I mean, I hate that I meant it, but I did.”

He rolled his eyes, “Meant what? You’re gonna have to be a little clearer than that, sweetheart.”

“What I said in the shower. I meant it. I haven’t stopped loving you, despite how much I want to. I don’t want to want you anymore, I don’t want that connection to the past to constantly be shoved down my throat.” She sighed and tugged at the braid they’d given her. “You’re cruel and mean and, fuck’s sake, you’ve shot me twice. But you’re also the only thing I’ve got left, and despite how much I want to, because trust me I do, I can’t let you go.”

He sighed and turned away from her. She was still tired, still a bit woozy from the fever. He could see the sweat on her forehead again and knew that whatever this was, was just drug induced. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her wanting him like this again.

Being around her already made him vulnerable enough. Whatever twisted connection he held to her now, would be nothing compared to letting her love him again. Two hundred years on his own and she thought she could just come barreling back into his life and everything would be lovely again?

No, that’s not how this world worked. Not anymore.

He stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Get back to sleep, we’ll leave soon.”

She sighed and sank back against the pillows, shivering as she did so. “You’ll be here?”

“Of course I will, sweetheart.” She nodded, eyes already drifting shut, and turned away from him. He let himself admire her, taking in her relaxed features and soft expression. She reminded him so much of before. Before the world went to shit and before he turned into what he is now.

He could feel parts of him, the ones he’d buried a long time ago, come up around her. Twisted as they were, how he felt about her before still lingered somewhere within him. But he couldn’t afford the risk that they presented if he did let her back in. He wasn’t even sure she could fully handle him if he did.

She’d nearly died about five times, most of them because of him, and she’d been up here for such a short time. She’d be better off without him. He walked towards the door, the spurs of his boots clicking against the tile of the floor. He found Sylvie lurking a few halls down and whistled, getting her attention.

Sylvie turned to him with an expectant smile. “You got room?”

She nodded with an eager smile, “We do. And you’d be compensated, of course.” Before he could question what exactly she was paying him for she snapped her fingers and some guards approached. They handed him a bag that he quickly rifled through. Not only was there enough Radaway to last him at least a month, there was purified water and rations that would keep him going until the next bounty.

She’ll be better off here.

He tucked the bag away and smiled at Sylvie, “Pleasure doing business with you, ma’am.”

She gave him a lecherous grin, “You as well,” she nodded and the guards escorted him to the gate. He didn’t let himself look back, knowing he’d just want to go get her. At least now he didn’t have to constantly worry about saving her ass.

He was better off on his own. Always had been, always would be.

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #cooper howard #the ghoul

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obsessedelusional · 3 days

Text

guilty pleasure (smut)

paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary ↬ A drunken night leads to a hookup with none other than Eddie Munson. Which wouldn’t be such a problem if you weren’t currently in a relationship with Jason Carver. You tell you self it needs to stop but what happens when start to look forward to your secret meet ups with Munson?

a/n: loosely inspired by your guilty pleasure by henry versus.. anyways hi hope u enjoy I miss eddie

Feedback & Reblogs appreciated! Thank you ♥︎

You’re Jason Carvers girlfriend, cheer captain and undoubtedly one of the most popular girls in this school. Then why are you currently pinned under Eddie Munson?

“Jason’s going to flip his shit.” You say as Eddie pulls away from kissing you, his lips travel down your throat.

“I won’t tell and you won’t either.” He murmurs nibbling farther down your neck.

You go to respond but you’re stopped by the sudden feeling of air on your chest, your nipples harden as he works your shirt off you. The air is out of your lungs when his mouth moves to a breast, his hands busy undoing your pants. He was eager and never wasted time during what little time you had before Jason started to wonder where you wandered off to. You two hadn’t been caught yet and for Eddie, it wasn’t about to happen today. More than happy to be your dirty little secret.

“Your body is dangerous.” He whispers as soon as he’s got you undressed, left in nothing but your underwear.

You always wore your sexiest pair in hopes that he’d show up to the party Jason dragged you to. Your boyfriend no longer had to do much to convince you to tag along. The unknown possibility of Eddie being there was more than enough to get you out the house.

The first time you had told yourself that it was nothing more than a drunken mistake. Jason and you had been fighting all week. Which was unfortunately becoming your new reality, your relationship on a downward spiral for months. He claimed to be at home but you knew better, showing up to the party he swore he wasn’t attending. After a long argument and him saying maybe you two should take a break, you found friends and drank more than you should have.

A drunken angry night lead you straight into Eddie’s arms. The two of you had always been amicable despite Jason’s obvious disdain for Eddie. It started off as an innocent conversation, thinking Jason would see and grow irritated enough to stop you. He didn’t seem to care which only pissed you off more. And then there Eddie was intoxicated and flirty, touching you without any care for your relationship status. When no one was paying you two any attention, you snuck a kiss and then snuck away with Eddie to a bathroom.

Jason and you decided to make things work a few days later, it needed to stop. Technically you were single when you hooked up with Eddie. You convinced yourself that you didn’t do anything wrong. There was no need to tell Jason what happened.

It wasn’t until you found yourself at another party, Jason with his friends paying you no attention. Eddie’s attention was focused solely on you from across the room. One look, a couple steps up stairs and Eddie was following you to an empty bathroom. Making sure to let him know this would never happen again as you undressed him. He agreed, laughing before lifting you onto the counter and taking over.

After that time you were fucked in every way. Jason just wasn’t doing it anymore. Wondering if Jason ever really did it for you. Questioning why you were still with him all these years later. Suddenly all his flaws more prevalent. Pissing you off by merely existing, fighting constantly. Telling yourself that you’d come clean soon. That it wasn’t fair to Eddie or Jason.

Yet here you were months later, completely sober letting Eddie take what he wanted. All while your boyfriend was downstairs with his friends. Giving yourself over to Eddie Munson became your guilty pleasure.

Eddie’s mouth is slowly traveling to its destination. Your eyes closed, too distracted by his mouth to think about how terrible this will inevitably end. The sound of fabric tearing has your eyes opened and on Eddie, watching as he stuffs whatever’s left of your underwear into his pocket. He’s pulling away from the you, only to sink himself between your thighs.

“Your pussy is always so wet and ready..” His voice is low, his mouth inches away from your center.

A few quick kisses are pressed to your inner thigh before his hands travel under you, pulling you closer and meeting his lips with your clit. Your involuntary reaction is to try and close your legs but he already expects it, stopping you from doing so as he dives deeper.

His tongue working on your bud and a single finger slides into you. You let your moans leave your mouth as you grasp the sheets of whoever’s bed you’re in. Without warning he adds another finger, picking up his pace.

“Fuck..” You groan out as you grind your hips into his touch.

He watches you as you react to his actions, his favorite sight. Your eyes are closed as he pushes you closer to your climax. You can’t see it but you can feel the grin on his face, smug about the fact that he’s the one making you cum and not your boyfriend.

He pulls away bringing out a whimper from you at loss of contact, “Does he make you feel this good?”

You look at him, frustrated and not wanting to talk right now. Especially not about Jason.

“Does he even make you cum?” He ask, kissing a sweet kiss to your cunt. No where near your swollen clit but your body shudders in response. You can’t bring yourself to answer.

“Tell me.. who makes you feel this good?” Another kiss, moving closer to where you desperately need him.

“Who makes you cum every time?” Another kiss, almost there but not yet. He’s leaving you a whimpering mess under his touch.

“Who do you think about when your boyfriend fucks you?” This time he doesn’t kiss you, waiting for response.

“You.. Eddie. I think about you.” You finally admit, causing him to get that smug look he wears every time he reminds you of your dishonest actions towards Jason.

“If you were mine I’d never let you out of my sight.. keep you satisfied enough to keep you under me and not someone else.” He says never breaking eye contact as his slips between your folds again. Continuing where he left off and not letting you respond, sending your head flying back.

The only sounds in the room are your moans and the sounds of his tongue and fingers bringing you closer to the edge. Music is muffled from downstairs. He picks up his speed, not missing a beat. Pushing you over the edge, arching your back as you finish on his fingers. He rides you out through your orgasm. As he pulls out he bring his fingers to his lips, cleaning your juices off his fingers.

“So sweet.” He says as he sits up, hovering over you again.

You only pull him closer, kissing him and undressing him. It’s your turn to make him feel good. Your hands pull at his shirt and he takes it off the rest of the way. The brief moment he pulls away, your hands run down his chest and to his pants. You undo the button then the zipper and start to pull them down as much as you can from under him. He shimmies the rest of the way out of his pants, dragging his boxers off with them.

You wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping it slowly eliciting a groan from him. It’s heavy and hard, ready to split you in half.

“My turn to taste you,” you whisper as you move from under him and push him onto his back.

He doesn’t fight this, allowing you to take control. Eyes on you as settle at his side, bending over to take his cock in your mouth. A simple kiss on his tip has him biting his lip in anticipation. His hand finds your ass, squeezing it as you slowly take his length into your mouth. His other hand is on your head, guiding your mouth deeper. Forcing you to take his whole length. Holding himself back from bucking his hips into your mouth.

“F-fuck.. you take my cock so well..” He purrs as he holds you still, your nose pressed into his groin.

After a few moments of you gagging on his cock, he lets go and you pull away. Saliva drips down your chin. Wiping your mouth off and using it to rub his cock, spitting the build up at the back of your throat onto it. Pumping him in a slippery mess, watching him watch you.

“You on top..” He directs and you listen, sitting up and throwing your leg over him.

You press your warm center onto his hardness, letting it slide through your folds. Making the both of you groan at the friction. You lift your self up just enough as aligns his tip to your heat. You lower yourself down, taking him whole. As you begin to roll your hips he grabs you and guides you through the motions, nails digging into your skin.

Probably leaving marks but you don’t care. The tiniest part of you wishing Jason would find evidence of you and Eddie, forcing you to come clean. The more the two of you did this behind Jason’s back, the sloppier you got. The more you would let Eddie do, the more you asked for. Knowing that this couldn’t possibly end well for anyone involved, deciding to enjoy it while you had the chance.

“Such a slut, taking my cock while your boyfriend is downstairs,” Eddie says this as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.

His hips jerk into you from under, slamming his cock inside of you at a relentless pace. Your head is burrowed in his neck, your arms trapped in his embrace. He fucks you from under as you moan in his ear, his favorite sound.

Without any warning he slips from under you and has you laid on your stomach. He pulls your ass up, pushing your head down. Eddie takes a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him before smacking your ass. The crown of his cock lingers at your entrance before easing into your warmth. You can’t help the whine that escapes your mouth as his fills you from this angle.

“Such a good little slut for me.. huh?” He asks as he thrusts into you in a languid manner, almost teasing you. He’s waiting for you to answer before he gives you want you want.

“Yes.. Eddie.. for you.” You respond, your voice cracking between thrusts.

“Say it.” He growls pushing your head into the bed, slowly moving his hips.

“I’m a slut.. for you.” You spit out and he rock his hips harder, faster. Fucking you into the bed. Finally giving you what you want.

You grip onto the sheets, pushing against his thrusts. His movements are deep, his pace relentless. Hands squeeze your ass, further guiding his pumping. You are a mess under him, not holding back your noises. Letting Eddie know he’s fucking you right. Just how you like it. Ruining you for any other man, specifically your boyfriend.

Eddie doesn’t slow, keeping the speed consistent. Determined to make you cum one more time before he finishes. His length plunges in and out of you. Skin smacking and moans fill the room.

There’s no way anyone else upstairs can’t hear you. They have to know someone is having sex in here. Almost making it more enjoyable. The fear of getting caught turning you on even more.

The familiar feeling of your skin heating up is felt. Pleasure building in you as Eddie’s fucks you closer to falling apart. Your walls flutter around his cock letting him know that you’re almost there.

“Come for me. Come all over my cock.” Eddie orders.

His demand is all it takes to push you over the edge. You feel your body tighten and then releases the pressure. AA chocked sob comes from you as you finish all over his cock.

Your body goes numb as he pumps a few more times before, quickly pulling out. Taking his throbbing erection into his hand and pumping it with his hand. The other hand grabs you, pulling you to a sitting position in front of Eddie.

“Open up.” He orders and you look up at him, doing as he says.

A few more flicks of his wrist has him hissing as he comes on your face. Aiming for your tongue and making it for the most part. You wait patiently as he jerks himself to completion. He smiles, wiping his cum from where it missed and landed on your cheek. Collecting it placing it in your mouth. Not letting a drop go to waste, watching as you swallow his seed.

“Good girl,” he smiles pulling away.

It’s as if reality comes into play as he steps away, throwing your clothes towards you on the bed. You quickly redress, watching him do the same. The sadness that comes when this moment comes gets stronger every time your time together comes to an end.

Once you’re dress you stand up from where you’re sat on the edge of the bed. It’s as if Eddie notices the change in your mood, without you having to say anything. Moving in closer to you he pulls you closer, kissing you more affectionately than he should be. Clouding your judgement and letting your self fill your mind with delusions.

As he drags himself away from you he says, “Now go make out your boyfriend, let him taste me on your tongue.”

His tone is teasing, causing you to roll your eyes and let out a sigh. His reminder of your failing relationship snaps you from your mind, the feelings he makes you feel. The thoughts he makes you think.

You’re irritated, mostly at yourself for letting it get to this point. He looks at you for a second using his hand to smooth your hair and then wipe away at your smudged eye makeup. Once he thinks you look like you didn’t just cheat on your boyfriend, he grins pulling away. You try not to smile back, moving away from him and leaving the room. Eddie would wait a few minutes, so no one would see the two of you leaving together.

As you walk downstairs to where you left Jason your mind can’t stop thinking about the possible consequences. You could tell Jason right now and what? Run into Eddie’s arms? Not entirely sure if he even wants that. If he wants you as anything more than a secret hookup.

Afraid that if you came clean, the whole entire thing would lose its appeal. Wondering if you enjoy your time with Eddie as much as you do because it’s so wrong. If you were single, would you still find yourself wanting to be around Eddie?

One thing clear, you need to break up with Jason. As soon as possible and just see what happens afterwards. If whatever Eddie and you have is meant to be, it’ll happen. You hear your name as you make it into the back yard where you left Jason. He’s sat right where you left him, trying to call you over.

As you approach him and his friends, he pulls you into his arms. You feel yourself recoiling as a reaction to his touch. You’re in no mood for him right, obviously bothered over something and he doesn’t notice. He never fires. Before you can anything, he kisses you. You can’t help but try to stifle the laugh that wants to come. Thinking about the last thing Eddie said to you.

“What’s so funny?” Jason asks, his arm still wrapped around your waist.

“Nothing… we need to talk..” You respond, removing yourself from his embrace and walking away from his group of friends.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #munson smut #eddie the freak munson #stranger things eddie #eddie munson st4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #eddie stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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rainba · 1 day

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Behind the Building ღ

A/N: Hi :3 Wrote this so that I could practice writing Ace some more... Getting his personality down and stuff. ( ´ ꒳ ` ) Very self-indulgent...

CW/tags: face fucking, semi-public sex, GN reader, smoking…?, Ace being Ace

Kind of porn without plot.....? A little bit of plot.

18+, NSFW, MDNI.

The summer air outside was terribly hot and humid– almost to the point of being unbearable.

But within the venue, everything was just right. Gathered inside the building was a crowd roaring with energy, dancing and jumping to the sound of the fast-paced beat, tapping their feet and bouncing with the rhythm.

And up on stage was nobody other than Ace, the one who carried the entire band on his shoulders.

Sweat trickled down his skin as he passionately screamed the lyrics of his newest songs, his pale hands working an electric guitar as he looked out into the crowd. Everyone standing before him… Or at least most of them… They were all his fans. Fans of his work, fans of his personality, fans of everything he had to offer. It was addicting.

Being accepted by so many people was addicting.

His guitar pick moved faster still as he continued playing his metal tunes, grinning even wider as the crowd cheered louder. The energy surging through the room was palpable. But alas, as with everything, it all had to come to an end. The hours and minutes passed in the blink of an eye, everyone was coming down from their highs, and the show came to a positive end.

Tonight was yet another success.

“Hell yeah, that ruled!” Ace gave his singular other bandmate a high-five as they exited the stage, their hearts pounding within their chests as they went to pack their things. The way everybody screamed their names was so exciting, intoxicating, thrilling– but… There was something bothering Ace.

As he went backstage and returned his guitar to its case, he couldn’t stop thinking about one person in particular: you.

During the entire show, he had been subconsciously looking for you. Were you hidden in the back? Were you listening to him while hanging out at the bar? Were you hidden behind some random, inconveniently placed pole?

Did… Did you even show up?

These thoughts plaguing Ace’s mind were overwhelming– and far too negative for his liking. He needed to step outside for a second.

“Yo, I’ll be back soon! I’m gonna go out for a smoke.” Ace waved at his fellow band member, to which they smiled and waved back. When he stepped outside, Ace noticed that there was a large crowd forming near the entrance. There were whispers among them– as well as laughter.

“Dude– somebody knocked over the porta potty! Someone was still in there!”

“Whaaaat- no way dude! That’s hilarious!”

“Woah… That’s sick and twisted.”

…Intriguing. But Ace didn’t have time to come take a look– he needed to smoke and get the stress out of his system.

Sneaking out back, Ace pulled out a white lighter and leaned against the dark brick wall of the building, sighing while running one hand through his soft hair. He tried his best to ignore the heat.

Ace knew smoking was bad– but he couldn’t help himself. It was one of his only bad habits… And everyone should be allowed to have at least one bad thing that they do, right? Right…?

With yet another sigh, Ace lit the cigarette and put it to his lips, closing his eyes for a second.

And in that short second, someone snuck up on him and scared the life out of him.

“Ace! What did I tell you about smoking!?”

Ace yelped as you ran up to him and took the stick from his mouth, gripping it between your fingers. At first, he was shocked and angry, but those feelings quickly faded as his eyes met yours.

“Woah– y-you came! You actually showed up!!”

Ace grinned and laughed as he nearly tackled you over, his arms wrapping around your body while he forced you into a tight embrace. The cigarette was quickly forgotten.

“Uhh… Of course I showed up. Why would I miss one of your shows?” You gently pushed him away as you stepped back, the humidity in the air making any and all physical contact uncomfortable. But Ace only stepped closer.

“I… I dunno! I just…” Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head.

“W-well, anyways. Did you like it?! Did you have fun?” His eyes looked to you for approval, putting his fragile heart in your hands as he asked for your opinion. You nodded.

“Of course I had fun– I always love your shows!”

Your words of praise– that’s all he needed. Honestly, that’s all he ever needs. Once again, his arms spread out wide as he pulled you into another warm hug.

“Awesome!! I can’t wait for you to come to my next one too!”

Without realizing it, he had you pinned against the wall, trapping you between himself and the building. There was nobody else around- they were all too distracted by the incident out front.

Nobody would be able to hear you two.

“And the one after that– and the one after that!” He was giggling so innocently, so sweetly. “How’d you like that one song I performed? Y’know– my most popular one–” Ace’s hands grabbed yours. “The one I made for you.”

Ace continued to push you for more and more compliments; he was addicted to hearing them, after all. Constantly seeking your approval. It was cute.

Perhaps Ace truly was a little innocent and oblivious, or perhaps he was just purposefully ignoring it, but… He was incredibly hard. And his bulge was pushing directly into you.

How easy it would be to mess with him…

“I loved all of your songs,” you spoke softly. Ace opened his mouth to reply, but you quickly cut him off.

“Actually. Can you sing one more time for me tonight?”

Slightly, he tilted his head to the side. “Huh? You want me to sing again–?” Ace looked confused as you switched positions with him. Instead of you being pressed against the wall, it was him leaning against it. He still didn’t catch on to what was happening… Not until you started getting on your knees.

His face turned a dark shade of red.

“W-woah– woah– What are… What are you doing?”

Ace’s breathing grew heavier as you started to unzip his baggy pants, your half-lidded eyes staring hungrily at his bulge. He couldn’t stop the way his hands reached up to cover his mouth.

“You performed so well tonight! And you tried to smoke again– so… Clearly you need something to take the edge off. How about I help you?”

Slowly, teasingly, you stuck your tongue out and licked his length from over his boxers, and he whined loudly. “Ah–ahh–! Wait, wait… Hold on, slow down!” His hips bucked and twitched against your lips as you teased his cock. “W-what if… What if someone walks back here and catches us?! Shouldn’t… Shouldn’t we, um, go somewhere private?”

Despite saying that, he looked as if he didn’t want to move at all. In fact, his hands moved over to the back of your head, pushing your face closer to his crotch. He was so hot; so sweaty and needy. His body ached to be touched even more.

Instead of answering him, you grabbed the hem of his boxers and pushed them down, his length springing free from its restraints. Precum was already leaking from the tip.

Ace needed to be sucked off so badly.

With a small wink, you began to tease the head with your tongue, licking it while your hands reached out and massaged the base of his length. Ace nearly stumbled and fell backwards as he used the wall for support.

“O-oh— Oh… Oh fuck…”

A shakey whimper escaped his throat as you went to work on him. God, he was now happier than ever that you showed up to his performance. All those sleepless nights of writing songs for you and practicing them was entirely worth it. You looked so perfect as you gave his body some much-needed love and attention.

“Tastes so good…” You murmured as you put more of him inside your mouth. “Want more.”

Ace’s length was almost too big– but you were willing to take it. Just for him.

And Ace was so happy that you could. He couldn’t help but roll his hips and gently thrust into your mouth.

“Fuck, f-fuck, fuck…”

Ace could barely form a coherent sentence as his body began to melt under your touch. Your mouth was so damn tight; so warm and hot and wet. He bit down on his bottom lip as he tried his hardest to let you have control. But…

But it was too much.

“I– I’m s-sorry– So sorry–!”

Roughly, Ace shifted your all’s positions. Instead of him being pressed against the wall, it was you– but with one his hands, he made sure that your head wouldn’t hit the bricks.

“Please, please… Suck it more, please…” He begged and whined as his pace slowly began to pick up, your saliva dripping down his skin as he pushed himself all the way in and out of your mouth. Over and over again.

His body trembled as his pace randomly switched between fast and slow– rough, then sensual. The entire time he fucked your mouth, he stared down at you with pure adoration and love in his eyes.

“I love you,” he sang as his thick cock abused the back of your throat. Whenever you choked and gagged, he’d slow down, only to immediately pick up his pace again.

“I’ll… I’ll write my next song about you, too! And the next one… And the next… Hahh…”

Ace’s fingers dug into your hair as he grew even rougher, your mouth nearly becoming a fleshlight to him. He couldn’t think straight; you were so fucking sexy, and your mouth felt so good.

You moaned sweetly as he fucked your face even faster, vibrating against his sensitive dick. The more you did it, the closer to the edge he became.

“F-fuck, more! More… Please!” His voice cracked.

“Whatever you do… Don’t… Don’t stop.”

Ace pushed his cock impossibly deep into your throat, your nose pressed firmly up against his glistening body. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes as the heat of his orgasm was catching up to him. He spread his legs further apart as he sandwiched you between his hips and the wall, one of his hands still providing cushion for your skull.

“P-please, let me cum, and… And I’ll… M-make it up to you later. I promise!”

At this point, he truly was singing– his moans were so sweet and loud. He didn’t care if the two of you got caught anymore. Besides… If someone were to see, then that would just mean everyone knows you belong to him. Right?

Right…

Ace pulled out for a split second before thrusting slower, wanting to enjoy your love and attention for just a little bit longer. With his one free hand, he reached down and lovingly stroked your cheek, smiling widely.

“You’re so, so amazing.”

And with a few more powerful jerks of his hips, he felt himself coming undone inside your throat, lovingly crying out your name all the while. His cock twitched as thick, hot ropes entered your mouth– but Ace didn’t expect you to swallow.

However, when he looked down and watched you do so, his heart stopped in his chest.

You truly were… Perfect.

Ace was quick to pull you up to your feet, catching you off guard as he passionately kissed your lips.

“I– I love you!” He proclaimed loudly. “I… I promise…” He kissed your lips again.

“I promise I’ll return the favor!”

#ace posting #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere #ace being ace #he's a little cute and silly #baby girl even #yandere x you

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cheapshrimpysheep · 13 hours

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hi, is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons where Leona, vil and rook(separately) has a s/o who starts randomly wearing gloves and hiding their hands from them due to getting really bad contact dermatitis from their work and not really able to do anything about it work wise

COMMENTS: Coincidentally, I myself have problems with dermatitis on my hands. So, perhaps what I wrote comes a lot from my own experience. Especially the thing about using an ointment that worked once and for some reason no longer works. 😅 And having some trouble sleeping because of the itching.

I hope you and all enjoy it ❤️‍🩹

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar / Vil Schoenheit / Rook Hunt

TAGS: Comfort; Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 610 words per character

Contact dermatitis is an itchy, inflamed rash that develops when your skin comes into contact with an irritant or allergen. There are two main types: Irritant contact dermatitis and Allergic contact dermatitis.

I decided to go with the first one since Irritant contact dermatitis is the most common type. It's caused by a substance that irritates the skin, such as soaps, detergents, solvents, or harsh chemicals.

CONTEXT: You got dermatitis after cleaning Ramshackle Dorm. It's not the first time, you already had it before, so you think you know how to treat it. Nobody needs to know. So you will take care of your hands at home and whenever you go out you will wear gloves to try to protect them. You'll be fine in no time... Right...?

Leona knew something was wrong the moment he saw you wearing gloves. Nobody starts wearing gloves out of nowhere just because. But he didn't need to ask anything because he saw you moving your hands as if those gloves were uncomfortable. And once or twice he saw you scratching your hands through your gloves and stopping immediately as if you had remembered that you shouldn't do it.

He wasn't going to get involved. At least not if it looked like you were getting better. But on the second day, you still itched. And on the third day, you had bigger dark circles than usual and the itching seemed the same or worse.

You had just returned to Ramshackle Dorm and the first thing you did was take off your gloves and run to the bathroom to treat your hands. Why didn't that get better? You were using the same ointment as last time.

“You should go to the infirmary.” Grim said “Hench-humans should take better care of themselves so they are always ready.” He teases you before showing actual concern. “You're not even sleeping well. I wake up to you scratching yourself every five minutes.”

You won't admit it, but he's right. You should go to the infirmary. Maybe tomorrow. That's what you're thinking when you hear someone knocking on the door. But you can't cover your hands now, the ointment is still working. So you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Show me your hands.” Leona demands calmly. You look surprised and confused. “Show me your hands.” he reiterates, crossing his arms but still patient.

“Why?” you ask.

“Why are you hiding them?” he asks back. “If everything is normal, why don't you show me?” and smiles smugly.

I mean, he's right. Who opens the door with one hand behind their back. This is very suspicious. You hesitate, but end up stretching your arms in front of you to show your red hands and unhealthy skin.

But Leona isn’t surprised. He barely even reacts. As if you had just confirmed his suspicions. He takes off one of his own gloves and puts it in his pocket, holding one of your hands with his gloved hand while he runs the other carefully over your broken skin, to feel it. Does he know it's not contagious?

“The ointment isn't working, is it?” He sais. You had just put it in your hand, so he definitely felt the moist. He puts the glove back on. “Do you have your keys?”

You say they are on the entrance table.

“So grab them and let's go. Unless you want to be locked out of the dorm.”

“Let’s go where?”

“To the herbivores club party. To the infirmary. Where else? If you don't go there alone, someone has to take you. Don't tell me you forgot where it is?” he smiles smugly again. “And don't make me pick you up. You know I would.”

Vil saw your new gloves. Were you trying to change your style a little? No. That's not it. You were uncomfortable with those gloves. He knows about fashion, the same way he knows when a person is using a piece to hide some part of their body.

After classes you went back to Ramshackle Dorm, took off your gloves and applied the ointment. It had worked last time, but this time it didn't seem to be having any effect. You had just come out of the bathroom, with your hands smeared with pumice, when someone knocked on the door. Damn it.

You can't cover your hands now, so you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Hello (Y/N)” Vil greets you. “I apologize for the sudden appearance, but can I come in to talk to you about something?”

You think for a second, you can keep hiding your hands behind your back, so you tell him he can come in. He enters and you close the door behind you, always hiding your hands.

“You've never used gloves before. It's not your style.” It didn't sound like he was criticizing you, like he tends to do with a lot of people. In fact, he sounded quite calm and neutral, almost understanding. “If there's one thing I know how to distinguish when someone starts using a new accessory, it's whether they're using it to try to improve their appearance or to hide themselves. And this second one tends to be a sensitive subject. That's why I thought it would be best to ask you in private. Did something happen to your hands? Are you injured?”

You tell him no, that you're not injured. Well, not exactly in that sense of the word at least. You end up telling him the truth about your skin and how it has reacted to cleansing products.

“Dermatitis? Let me see. I want to know how bad it is.” He now has that judgmental look on his eyes. Which makes you hesitate a little, but you are now also at the point of no return.

You take your hands from behind your back and show Vil your red hands and unhealthy skin, without being able to look him directly in the eyes.

“For the Great Seven! And you let your skin reach this point?” he scolds you. “When did this happen? Have you gone to the infirmary already?”

You say you went there the last time this happened and they gave you an ointment, which was what you were applying.

“And is it having any effect?” He asks. You say that, compared to last time, not really. “Then get ready to go to the infirmary.” He thinks for a second if you should protect your hands from the sun, which reminds him of the gloves he saw you wearing that day. “Let me see the gloves you were wearing.”

You go get the gloves and give them to him. He looks at you disapprovingly as soon as he picks them up.

“These cheap gloves? This material is horrendous! It's probably making your situation even worse.” He throws the gloves onto the entrance table. If there had been a rubbish bin there he would have thrown it in there. He takes off his own gloves and hands them to you. “Here, use mine. They are cotton inside.” You hesitate. His gloves? And they must be expensive. “You can keep them. I have many more like these.”

As you put on his gloves, he details his new plans with you.

“We will go to the infirmary and you will hear everything they told you to do and use. After that, we will review all your cleaning products and materials you use that come into contact with your hands and can create this reaction again. If we have to get rid of everything and buy new products we will do so.” You look at him and show your concern about the price of these possible new products. “If they are truly that expensive, I'll buy them for you. Your hands won't go back to this state on my watch. And then you come with me to Pomefiore to analyze your skin and find products to protect and care for your hands. Did you understood?”

Que Adorable! Rook thinks. Trickster really thought they could hide something from me? That really entertain him. Seeing you wearing gloves and trying to hide how uncomfortable you were wearing them and trying not to scratch your hands too much. You reminded him of an animal that tries to hide the fact that it is seriously injured.

Even though it was funny at first, he couldn't see you like this. He assumed what it was from the symptoms you show, but he didn't want to talk to you in front of others. After all, if you were trying to hide it, it's because he didn't want others to know.

He sneakily followed you to Ramshackle Dorm. You opened the door, letting Grim enter first to run to the kitchen for some snacks. You pass the door jamb and it's when you go to close the door that you hear

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook’s head pops from the side. He lets out a little muffled laugh at how startled you were. “I spotted yor new pair of glove on your hands. Are you perhaps trying a new look? Merveilleux! It's exciting to try out new accessories to express another side of ourselves, isn't it? However...” His friendly look now changes to that hunter look of his. And the smile of someone who cannot be deceived. “I don't believe that's the real motive you're wearing those gloves. Am I mistaken?”

You don't even know how to answer him. He already knows the truth and you know there's nothing you can do about it. His expression returns to normal, he now has that characteristic resting smile on his face.

“There's no need to be shy with me. I purposely came to talk to you here because I knew it wasn't something you wanted to discuss in public.” And now his smile has faded into that slightly more serious look that he only tends to have when something worries him a little, or when he feels that the situation is not so light. “I saw how you itched your hands, how uncomfortable you were with the gloves. It's a skin problem, isn't it? Maybe dermatitis?”

You don't say anything. It's not necessary. He knows the answer just by looking at you, your face, your posture. And your hands were starting to itch again.

“Please, you can take off your gloves. They are clearly only making your situation worse.” You hesitate. “It really hurts me to see you suffering like this. No matter how damaged your skin is, I know that your hands are as beautiful as the rest of you and that they just need treatment to become très belles again. And if you allow me to help with your recovery, I will do so with the greatest love and care.” He smiles charmingly at you, the type of smile that makes you feel safe.

You take off your gloves, showing him your red hands and unhealthy skin.

“Sacrebleu! What did this to your hands?”

You tell him it was your cleaning products and about the ointment you were using since the last time that happened to you. And, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be having much effect this time.

“We must go to the infirmary if it's not working anymore.” He proclaims, embodying his dramatic self. “Ooh, your poor, beautiful hands, threatened by something that should assist you caring for your home and yourself. They must be replaced. I will happily help you with it and get you gloves that will protect you in the future. Fear not, my dear Trickster. Shall your hands be healthy once again.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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adora-but-ginger · 3 days

Text

Aspersion

aspersion (noun): an attack on the reputation or integrity of someone or something; an accusation.

pairing: eventual spencer reid x gender neutral! reader

synopsis: in which spencer reid pushes a little too far

warnings: both spencer and the reader are assholes to each other a little, but it is justified! swearing (probs), typical cm violence and such, tension thicker than a cement wall

masterlist

word count: ~2.1k

a/n: hello and welcome to my first official criminal minds fic! all of the pieces in this anthology can most likely be read individually, but they will have connected themes throughout! please enjoy the first work in my "psych you out in the end" collection. want to be tagged? Let me know!

also casual reminder that this is glasses reid because i am gnawing at my enclosure over him

not proofread whoops

credit to gif owner!

It had been a long case. Five days in and little to no leads, yet a serial killer was still on the loose. This was your fourth case with the team now, most of which were still pretty apprehensive of your "psychological abilities." Penelope, who you've come to like the most, has been the kindest to you, even asking as far as for you to do her tarot. The rest of the team weren't as easygoing, but that wasn't the point right now.

It was of upmost importance to check out the latest crime scene, and you were paired with the hyper-suspicious Doctor Reid. He out of everyone trusted you the least, but now was the time to hopefully change that. He was a genius and you could read people, after all. You couldn't get a good read on him though, mostly because you two hadn't been around each other long enough to have more than a professional conversation. This was the first time it was the two of you, and you were going to make it count.

You could decipher anyone's aura, yet you were still a people pleaser. Ironic, almost.

"It looks like there was no forced entry, meaning that the unsub was someone they either knew or felt safe with." He darted his tongue between his lips after he spoke.

"Yeah, but aren't people in this neighborhood generally trusting? I think we should focus more on what he took." There was something itching at you about this scene, something that felt off.

You were a professional profiler, but you could just sense people's inner selves and auras--auras helped direct you into a person's mind and feelings. It varied per person and you weren't the best at explaining it, but you could tell a lot about someone if they even walked past you.

"Are you saying that the door might have been unlocked?"

"I'm saying it's a possibility."

Reid without a glance in your direction shook his head. "You know that's a very unlikely scenario, statistically women will secure their home much more than men, especially if they're living alone. Research also shows that when someone is under the impression that they can hold more than average strength either physically or mentally, they act out in irrational ways." He shrugged his eyebrows before murmuring quietly. "Like joining the FBI."

Did he just insult you? "Excuse me? Reid I'm just saying that we should shift our focus. Gideon said you had trust issues, but he didn't explain their severity." Had he really tried to undermine you in a way that he thought you wouldn't notice?

"Gideon makes decisions that could end up hurting the team more than helping them sometimes."

Okay now that was a diss. Wasn't he the one who hired Reid, too? You had dealt with people like this before, and you weren't going to let him get to you. "Let's just finish up and go meet up with everyone else."

The unsub was found and arrested two days later. Ironically, he was entering through unlocked doors, a detail that you were sure Reid was not too happy with when he found out. You were all on the jet ride home now, and would be here for the next few hours. This was the farthest case from Quantico yet, meaning the team finally had time to interrogate and learn more about you. Something that Emily and Derek were jumping at.

"Can you read my mind?"

"Can you tell what I want for dinner?"

"Can you tell when it's going to rain?"

They had both sat down across from you simultaneously, overwhelming you art first.

"Okay hold on." You threw your hands out slightly as a cue for them to stop. "Kind of, no, and yes--I check the weather station."

"Huh." Emily scrunched up her face, another question brewing. "So how does this psychic-ness work?"

You took a deep breath before starting. "I can just read you. Yes, like a profiler reads you, but also more than that. Profilers can only see the outside, but I can see the inside as well."

"Prove it." Derek crossed his arms. "Inside profile me."

Now that was a choice of words.

You held a finger up. "I will only if you promise to never say that phrase to me again."

He looked to Prentiss before a smile broke out. "Looks like they've got jokes, too."

A quiet laugh escaped you before continuing. "That I do. What do you want to know, Morgan?"

"My deepest-darkest secret." He said it in a joking manner, but you shook your head none the same.

"You don't want me to share that."

"I guess I don't. What do you really have for me, though?"

You took a second to really look at him, to see what he was hiding behind that smile--you were going to keep it light of course. You could look farther if you wanted, but the farther back you went the vaguer your readings were. "When were you going to tell everyone that you like Britney Spears?"

And just like that, you knew the two of them believed you now. Because the price on Derek Morgan's face was one that you wish you had a photo of. Emily's jaw dropped, eyes widening. "You refused to listen to her with me last week, traitor!"

Derek's mouth was also agape--he was flabbergasted. Eyebrows raised, he shook his head. "Fine, I believe you. Say no more. Please." His reaction made you chuckle, and it was all fun and games until Reid strode over, taking the seat next to you.

"You know, almost every public claiming psychic is usually a scammer or a fake. In fact--"

A groan escaped you. "Seriously? This again?"

"Yes! It was an incredibly irrational choice on Gideon to--"

The upbeat mood quickly dissipated, your temper going along with it. "Listen Reid, I don't need to explain myself to you. But, out of the kindness of my heart, I'm going to say this once." Emily and Derek''s eyes were bouncing between the two of you. "I don't announce it publicly, hence why "that is"psychic" is not my legal title. Second, I'm good at what I do, that's why I'm here. Believe me or not, but I can see right through you and your defenses."

The air took a tone that you didn't quite appreciate now, but he started this.

"You don't know a thing about me, in-in fact you don't know a thing about anyone, much less who I am." Annoyance was seeping through his words, and you were getting tired of his passive-aggressiveness. "You show up here being a so-called 'psychic'," his fingers went into air quotes at your title. "Yet you haven't done anything besides getting a confession out of one individual? Sounds like someone doesn't know how to handle being around actual profilers."

You wanted to slap the guy. But here you were again, taking the high road. "I'm too tired for this. If you want to doubt what I can do, fine. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before." You clenched your jaw and took a couple deep breaths to control your oncoming frustration. The conversation was over now, there was nothing left for him to say. How dare he insult your profiling skills too? How dare he--

"How have you been able to get this far lying?"

It was the straw on the camel's back, that line. He wouldn't drop it, and now he was going to face the consequences. You inched your head slowly to face his own, steadying your breaths even more, so you could make sure your words wouldn't get you fired this early on.

You looked into his eyes, really looking into him. The emotions he gave off, the way he held himself, his aura. If he was going to bash you for days in hopes of getting a response, he won. He was probably expecting you to give a grandiose speech on how you don't know what you're doing or how you just have really lucky guesses, but if there was one thing that you learned from people like him, it was that if they keep striking low, you strike lower.

Screw the high road, screw him undermining your talent, and screw people like him that thought they could get away with thinking their actions didn't have consequences.

You really saw him then, squinting slightly as you looked him up and down in the seat, the team around you remaining quiet as to remain listening to the rising tif. You could see right through him, see that he had some real parental issues, but had a overshadowing amount of loneliness surrounding his self, his mind, his body. It was vague, but it was there, and there is all you needed.

You leaned back as if to get comfortable, maintaining your eye contact. "When was the last time someone you cared about actually stayed in your life, Spencer?" You spoke nonchalantly, like you were discussing the weather.

You could feel the tangible tension that thrummed through the air from the two across from you at your words, and you knew you hit home. As to solidify your unanswered question, you saw a tiny twitch in his eyelid that responded more than any words could.

"Um Morgan? I think JJ called our names. We should go." Emily nudged the man and nodded to the back of the jet.

"What? No one has said anything. You're losing it, Prentiss."

"Derek, we're going." Her eyes went between you and Spencer to drive the point, and he finally picked it up after a second.

"Oh. Oh. Yeah, yeah I agree. JJ?" He called out. "We're coming!"

It was just the two of you now.

He broke eye contact with you after your words, and you moved in towards him as you lowered your voice to a whisper. "I see you for your inner workings, Reid. There's a reason I am good at what I do, and it is because I see you for how you see yourself. You do not want to make an enemy out of me."

His voice was caught in his throat for a second, mouth dropping slightly. He cleared his throat momentarily. "Are you threatening me?" Clear avoidance of your statement.

"No, Reid, I'm offering an olive branch. I suggest you take it." His silence prompted you further. "Besides your consistent digs at me, you're really good at what you do. Your brain quite literally runs a mile a minute, and my brain can see that. I am trying my best to chalk this all up to me being new, but I am really not appreciating all of this heat, it is extremely frustrating. You have your methods, I have mine. I'll give you some time to decide whether to accept this olive branch or not, but we would offer this team much more if you used those smarts of yours alongside mine, not against." Your chest was heaving slightly as the fire in your eyes blazed, but he finally got the message. "This will be the only time I'm offering this up." You turned away from him, needing a break.

You heard him shuffle and leave the seat next to you as you watched the clouds whiz by in the jet. It really sucked that he was cute too. All the adorable ones had to get you riled up, didn't they?

You felt a brief weight lift off of your shoulders as you heard Gideon speak to everyone on the plane about having the weekend off. Thank goodness.

That Monday you waltzed into the bullpen, a nice pep to your step after a break from everything. Iced drink in your hand, you set down your bag as you prepped yourself for the onslaught of paperwork awaiting you.

You had just gotten comfortable when you felt a tap on your shoulder and a familiar clear of a throat.

You swiveled in your chair, facing the tall man. "'Yes?"

"The oldest olive tree is known to be anywhere between two thousand to four thousand years old, but the specific age is currently being studied."

You took a sip of your drink as you looked up at him in confusion. "Good morning to you as well?"

He clenched his jaw quickly before continuing. "I''m saying yes. I accept the branch. It doesn't make sense to me and you infuriate me a little bit, but I want to work on it."

For the first time, but certainly not the last, you genuinely smiled at him.

And maybe he was losing all touches with reality, because he could feel his heart skip.

taglist: @alllriseabove @kitty-kei

#psych you out in the end #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #bau #criminal minds x reader #gender neutral reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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ghulehunknown · 1 day

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Undressing Papa Backstage,

A Drabble - Dom Copia x GN Reader

Warning - adult themes ahead!

NSFW below!

Tags: blowjob, unprotected penetrative sex, dom Copia

Word Count: 1.3K

Just imagine undressing him after a show backstage. He’s sweaty and he’s just told the audience to go fuck themselves, and he has similar plans in mind. You watch as he takes the final bow. His brow is glistening with beads of sweat, and his hair is a little damp. There’s a hunger in his gaze, his bottom lip falling slightly open as the lights go out.

Performing has him especially riled up this evening. He’s already pitching a tent in his painfully tight jeans by the time he turns to go backstage. And he wasn’t kidding about that violent shower. You had always wondered what exactly he meant, and envisioned him painting the walls in his ecstasy and making a mess of himself only to wash it down the drain.

And where was the fun in that, imagining? And what was the fun in doing it solo the whole tour, Copia wondered as well. You got to know him pretty well, in the quick changes in between songs. Small chatter, but mostly silence as you focused on your task at hand. But all the touches, feeling his body as you put his robes on and took them off, carefully smoothing his hair each time… it built something inside of you. And you think it did for him too.

“Excellent job, Papa,” you remark as he runs backstage again for the final time of the night. He’s out of breath and chugs the water bottle you hand him as you start to take his red jacket off one arm at a time.

“Mm-!” he mumbles while drinking. “Grazie, dear.” He’s still trying to catch his breath but slowly it returns to normal. “You eh, catch my line?”

Oh yes, of course you had. Since the start of tour you began keeping a tally of all the different ways he would tell the audience about fucking each other or themselves, and how he intended to do the same…

“Of course, Papa, I think the audience liked it,” you say with a smile as you hang up the red jacket for dry cleaning later on.

“And…what about you?” he says with a small smirk, looking at you as he begins to unbutton his shirt.

You blush. “I…” you begin, stepping forward to help him with his buttons as he fumbles around.

“You…?”

“Please, Papa…you’ve put me in a rather…precarious situation. I - I have a job to do, and I can’t be distracted. Don’t make me choose between what I want to do and what I have to do.” You look up at him, his shirt collar in your grasp. But you don’t sound convincing. Nor do you want to.

“I know tesoro, but you don’t have to worry about any of that. I want you. I’ve wanted you since they assigned you to me.” He’s touching your elbow now, gingerly brushing your arm with his thumb. “All this touching and no fucking, I can’t stand it.”

“Papa, I -” you start to say but before you can get the words out, he shoves you off him while undoing his pants in a hurry but tugs at it hopelessly just like the buttons on his shirt.

He curses in Italian and slumps his shoulders a bit, looking at you pathetically, giving up. “That was supposed to be seductive,” he said, frowning.

You can barely contain a smile. “This is why you need your wardrobe assistant,” you say, unlacing his pants and unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. Your fingertips brush his sternum, feeling the few coarse hairs sprinkled across his chest.

Your breath catches in your throat. You kneel down to start taking off his pants past his waist before you realize - of course, how could you forget? These jeans don’t leave much to the imagination, and he forgoes undergarments just to get them over his hips.

“Something the matter?” he asks, looking down at you and wondering why you paused.

You shake your head and continue, this time yanking the jeans halfway down his thighs in short tugs. The tight fabric combined with his sweat doesn’t allow much wiggle room.

Finally his erection springs forth, completely hard and in your face. Your hands trail up the back of his thighs, until you’re cupping his supple ass. You give his cheeks a squeeze, eliciting a little chuckle from him. You bring one hand to his front, grabbing his cock in your fist and tilting it upwards towards your mouth.

He sighs and grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back. Then he spits directly onto his shaft, saliva pooling around your hand. You work him up in your grasp, his spit giving you allowance to glide your fist around him smoothly.

You lean forward until your lips touch his flushed tip. You part your lips and kiss it gently before taking him in your mouth and sinking down on him fully, until his tip hits the back of your throat. You can smell his natural body odor mixed with his cologne at his base. He tastes salty from all the built up perspiration.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, clutching onto your hair harder. His eyes are closed as he rocks his body against your mouth, feeling every part of his cock enrobed.

You gag at first, but his thrusts don’t wait for you to catch your breath. He’s using you for his own pleasure, like his own little fuck doll.

Before he finishes, he pulls you off him roughly by the hair. You choke and sputter as he utters a gruff command.

You nod and obey him when he says, “I want you bent over the vanity.”

You quickly clear the scattered mess of things on the surface - his face paints, makeup brushes, tissues, setlists, water bottles - as he comes up behind you and yanks your trousers down your hips. He throws them to the side once your legs are free.

He pushes you flat against the vanity, your head turned to the side and your cheek laying down flat. He kicks your legs apart so they make a wide V shape. You hear him spit again, then again, this time in his hand. He reaches down to your core, massaging his saliva like it’s lube at your entrance.

You both moan in sync as he pushes into you, and you feel the initial stretch. Oh fuck! You had thought of this moment so many times while alone backstage with him, but truthfully never even knew how big his cock was until now. You had an idea, sizing the bulge in his pants. But he usually put his pants on by himself before shows, and took them off himself afterwards on his way to the shower, so you never saw this part of him. You wince as your walls contract around him to accommodate his size.

“Ah - fuuckk, s-so good -” he murmurs, thrusting in and out of you.

You lay there atop the table, feeling him pound into you over and over. You moan every time he brushes up against your little sweet spot deep inside you.

“You like that, mm? My little assistant,” he growls in your ear, and as you look up into the mirror you see him smirking and looking into your eyes. He spanks your ass, leaving a red handprint.

You yelp as he bends your left arm behind your back, keeping a firm grip there to steady himself as he continues drilling into you. Your body bounces on the table as you watch both your faces contort in passion in the mirror. The hairspray bottle and his cologne are dangerously close to falling off the table.

“Fuck, I’m going to cum -” he says breathlessly, pulling out of you quickly. You peer up into the mirror again and see him looking down and just when you wonder - warm, thick liquid splashes all over you, painting your backside as he coaxes out his seed.

You lay there in a daze as he pulls some tissues from the box next to you, cleaning himself off and aimlessly cleaning you off too, though it’s more of a smear.

Then he says, “Undress. Get in the shower. We’re just getting started.”

#the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #ghost bc #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band smut #copia is my husband #papa emeritus iv x gender neutral reader #popia x reader #copia fluff #copia smut #copia x reader #ghost band fanfiction #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #rite here rite now #rhrn

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mishy-mashy · 1 day

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Probably not gonna match with when this comes out translated, but still—just a few things I liked about BNHA 423

WE GOT TO SEE THE VESTIGES AGAAAAINNNNN!!! HI BRUCE!

I think Bruce gets a lot of bad angles. This is an example (but it's okay honey, you're still hot stuff)

Unfortunately, I have a favorite. It's Bruce. The most Normal Guy™ in the vestige line up. And the special-est sopping wet cat for Kudo ever (Yoichi is a dry cat because at least Kudo remembered to take Yoichi inside).

The vestiges were all gearing for a punch, but Tomura/Tenko is reaching out.

The rest of the users usually use OFA to punch, is the general idea we see. But Tomura/Tenko's Quirk isn't that.

Tomura/Tenko reaching his hand out to grab, and the vestiges readying a punch—it's their ways of putting the hurt on.

And Tomura/Tenko knows what happens if he puts his fingers on someone. He was aiming for AFO's head too. Guy was pissed.

I like that the vestiges look like they're crawling out of hell (or the depths) here. Technically for OFA itself, which they embody, being in AFO's realm was hell. It meant they failed their collective goals to win against AFO, and keep OFA [Yoichi] out of his possession

Also, they're all embers of who they once were. If Factors embodied their personalities, these embers are the leftovers of that embodiment. Their eyes are blank.

And even when they're only shattered fragments of themselves, they came for AFO to take him down.

They really embodied that purpose. Even as husks of themselves, or sad leftovers that scattered from their destroyed Factors, they still reached forward to clock AFO one last time.

They were that determined, and that determination was all that was left of them.

Meanwhile, with Yoichi, his itty bitty remains continued trying to talk sense into his brother till the end.

Yoichi has such a bleeding heart. But he also loved his brother.

AFO is standing in the dark. But in that dark, there's a light. It's Yoichi, as if he were the light at the end of the tunnel.

AFO chased OFA for decades, and ruined a lot of lives, just to have Yoichi by his side again.

Joining hands with Garaki; killing Banjo, En, Nana; forcing the creation and upbringing of Tenko; the whole Shimura incident; everything he did to UA and the Aoyamas to get close to the wielder of OFA [Yoichi]. He did all that, and more.

He just wanted the chance to have Yoichi with him again. That was his purpose in obtaining OFA this whole time.

Yoichi was AFO's light at the end of the tunnel.

Too bad for AFO, the light at the end of the tunnel was an oncoming train.

Yoichi is telling AFO what happened, but I love that in front of Yoichi, AFO became himself. I mean, not a mass of scar tissue, but who he originally looked like

Idk, there's just something symbolic about it?

Midoriya calls AFO a lonely man. And Yoichi comes to him, and AFO says he wants Yoichi by his side. He wouldn't be lonely if that were the case. Yoichi could make him not lonely anymore.

And the lonely man, a bundle of scar tissue from his warpath to see Yoichi again, reverts to a time he had no injuries or scars. He looks like the period of time where he and Yoichi lived in the same era.

In front of Yoichi, he's just.. himself, I guess is how to put it. Not a mass of scar tissue, or the evil villain everyone feared: he's literally just Yoichi's "Nii-san".

It's like, the scar tissue shed itself to reveal AFO's true face.

He wants to see Yoichi's face, and ended up showing his own without even meaning or thinking to.

He's finally looking straight at Yoichi, trying to see his face. It's not like when Yoichi was alive, when AFO always looked down on him, and just waited for him to bend to his will.

Now, AFO has little time left with Yoichi, and he's lost his composure for it, wanting to see Yoichi as more than an ember. But maybe he got to the point he only ever saw Yoichi for his Factor, rather than the Factor for Yoichi: how often has he said he was chasing One For All, instead of his younger brother?

AFO wanted to see Yoichi's face, but when he saw Yoichi next to Kudo... yeah, he lost his mind a bit there. Probably (Definitely?) because he saw Kudo's Ability, and Kudo with Yoichi. And Kudo is "to blame for everything".

Maybe he lost it seeing Kudo and Yoichi together, because it was a repeat of the past, I suppose?

(Technically, he did see Yoichi's face one last time already. Just that he also saw the bastard Kudo's face again too. And AFO did not like that.)

#ngl i sped through this chapter until i saw the vestiges were mentioned and went back to it #just to see bruce. that was it #but i did end up taking another look later in the day #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bruce #kudo #PLEASE I WANT FULL NAMES #en tayutai #nana shimura #yoichi shigaraki #tomura shigaraki #tenko shimura #banjo daigoro #ofa #afo #all for one #one for all #im so happy we got to see the vestiges again and AFO being a pathetic man for his little brother #AFO did love him. to borrow a line from something i wrote:#[A twisted sense of love that was - nonetheless - love]#okay originally theres commas but tags dont let that. i just think that line applies to AFO in regards to Yoichi #might be cringy yeah but i wrote that a long time ago so. AFO does love its just he shows it and believes it wrong #or maybe the narration copies AFO's twisted own to fit his Demon Lord narrative: “Yoichi was his possession he wouldnt let go easily”#ok sure AFO #idk i just thought these pages were interesting #bnha 423 #bnha spoilers

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kedreeva · 2 days

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Heads up/Warning for animal death descriptions!

My friend had two non-starter hatchlings from her last litter- babies that refused to eat, or refused to eat captive prey items. They want baby morning geckos or similar lizards, and at $40 a pop that's just not going to happen. Most of the litters will take fish instead and from there switch to scented mouse pinkies and then to unscented, and be fine. But every litter there are a couple of stubborn holdouts. Often non-starters get culled, either because they outright refuse all food and would just die slowly anyway, or because they're otherwise unfit for captive keeping (for instance, refusing common food sources). Since she's establishing a captive born and bred population, she's focused mainly on the animals that will take common prey items or switch easily. This is ultimately a good thing, as established CBB means less pressure to import wild caught animals.

This time, I took the two non-starters home to see if I could get them switched. I had plenty of guppies available, and plenty of mouse pinkies, after all.

I didn't succeed with the male. He took a couple of guppies when assist fed, but he never really showed any drive to eat at all- no food hunting activities, no ambush pose, no tongue flicking. Sometimes baby animals just fail to thrive.

The girl, however, has been doing great. She was taking fish on her own, every time I offered. Last week I assist fed her a chunk of a mouse tail - a hefty meal compared to a guppy! - by gently holding her up near the head and putting the raw tail end in front of her. It was my intention to put it in her mouth when she opened it to tag me, but she actually shot forward and grabbed it herself.

This week, I had a mouse doe dropping babies right as I was checking on the snake, and so I grabbed one and bapped the snake in the face with it. She wrapped it up to "kill" it (she is not strong enough to do this, had it been alive, but boy did she try), but ultimately she grabbed it by the butt and couldn't find the head, and so abandoned it.

I knew she was hungry though, and I really wanted to get a solid meal into her, so I pulled a baby guppy from my aquarium and euthanized it, then stuck the head into the pinkie's mouth and wrapped the tail up over the nose, so that the fish scent and taste and texture would be where the snake started eating and by the time she realized it was not a fish she'd have it halfway down her face and wouldn't want to stop.

And it worked! I came back an hour later to a fat little snek full of pinkie mouse. She looks so huge with it!! A few more meals like this and she may be able to go back to my friend, and then find a good home!

Good job Rocza!

#snakes #boas #solomon Island ground boa #animal death for ts #dead animal for ts #my pets #rocza #now please actually digest it

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sako-mii · 2 days

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-> Doctor's visit

Pairing: Zayne x reader

Tagging: @coxxxmo @rachoka @oni-girx @mill-s @chandeliermichel @tulipsaisle

Warning: You're going for a checkup after a long time, what does Zayne have to say?

Going to the doctor for your regular check ups was something you were used to, but right now, it was something you dreaded. You haven't been to the doctor for a while because of all the missions you took so here you were, sitting nervously in front of the doctor's office with your reports in your hands. You knew that the reports didn't find anything bad, but knowing your Doctor who is also your boyfriend, you could only hope he'd go easy on you with his scolding. You watched a patient walking out of his office and stood up from your seat, saying your last silent prayer before entering his office.

As you entered, you watched him typing on his laptop, his glasses perfectly sitting on his nose and his usual stern expression. Your heart fluttered at his sight after not seeing him for a while but you snapped back when he glanced at you briefly. "Look who decided to show up." He uttered while keeping his gaze on his laptop. Even though his voice was calm, you could tell that he was anything but that. "And here I thought that this wasn't of importance to you." He continued when you didn't say anything. He looked up at you and held his hand out to take your reports. You silently handed them over and watched him. You weren't sure what to say or how to respond because he seemed awfully calm when you expected him to scold you. Instead he just silently looked over your report and signed them. "Go sit on the bed so I can examine you." He said and stood up, walking towards it. You did as told and sat on the bed, looking at him and smiling awkwardly, hoping that this could ease the awkward tension you felt. He only looked at you with his usual emotionless expression, putting on his stethoscope. "Take deep breaths." He instructed and put the stethoscope against your chest, listening to your heartbeat quietly. You examined his face, taking in all of his facial features, from his sharp eyes to his soft lips, his pale skin and sharp features. "Y/n?" He asked, making you snap back. You looked at him puzzled and asked, "sorry, what was that?" He sighed and put the stethoscope down and leaned his face closer to yours. "I asked if you felt anything unusual lately. Tiredness, fatigue or any sort of pain perhaps?" He asked again and kept his eyes locked with yours. You were caught off guard by the way he leaned closer to you. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you answered, "No, not that I'd notice." You replied and looked back into his eyes. He stared at you quietly, making you wonder why when he leaned towards your ear. "Then what's making you so distracted?" He whispered, his breath hitting your ear, making you feel hot. You blushed and leaned back slightly to keep some distance. "Nothing." You replied and shifted a bit to sit more comfortably. Was he really not angry at you? You kept wondering but decided to just leave it at that, considering it a blessing. "Sorry, I was just thinking of something. But I'll focus now." You told him and shifted a little to sit comfortably. Zayne didn't say anything and nodded silently after a moment, putting on the stethoscope again. "Now, focus and take deep, slow breaths." He instructed and placed the drum against my chest again. You did as told and took a deep inhale.

You close your eyes in the process to help you stay focused. You continued to focus on your breathing when you felt soft lips against yours. Your breath hitched as you realized that Zayne kissed you and tried to pull away only for him to keep you in place by holding the back of your head. "What are you doing-?" You tried to ask but he didn't reply and pulled you back again. "Your heart is racing.." He whispered in between the kiss and nipped at your lower lip, causing you to gasp which he took advantage of to deepen the kiss. As the kiss continued, you felt the drum pressing against your chest again. Zayne pulled away after a moment to let you catch your breath. You leaned against his chest, panting and blushing, wondering and confused at the sudden behaviour he was displaying. He lets you lean against him, gently caressing your back to help you calm down. When you were calm enough, he let go of you and started writing something down. "What was that for?" You finally asked, your brows furrowed. He only shrugged but you could swear you saw him smirking before he turned around. "I was just measuring your heartbeat." He replied as he sat back in front of his desk, typing at his laptop. "Your heartbeat was unusually high. I suggest you come again for another checkup. " He continued as glanced at me over his glasses. "We wouldn't want any inconvenience again, do we?"

A/n: I love Zayne

Reblogs and likes are appreciated. Lmk if you want to be tagged<3 (or want to talk about Zayne or lads cause I wanna appreciate-)

® Don't copy without credit

#zayne x reader #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #lads #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #x reader #zayne x you #l&ds zayne #lnd zayne #lnds zayne #lnds x reader #lads x reader

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steddieas-shegoes · 6 hours

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disposable hero

for @steddiesongfics using the song disposable heroes by metallica released (appropriately and specifically for eddie munson to come back) in 1986

rated m | 1919 words | cw: implied sexual content, temporary character death, implied violence, blood, mind/body control | tags: kas!eddie, the good guys win, getting together, reunions, first kiss, hurt/comfort

◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

Eddie woke to nothing.

Well, there was something. There were things.

But nothing that led him to believe he was safe, or even alive.

He was cold. He was pretty sure if he was dead he wouldn’t feel cold. Or maybe he would. Maybe this was his own version of hell: darkness and a cold that lingers in your bones, seeking sunlight it will never find.

Time doesn’t seem to pass, but he knows it is. The solitude only adds to the lingering emptiness in his chest.

He yearns for warmth, yearns for a friendly face, someone to talk to. He isn’t sure where he is. His last memory was Dustin crying, and he thinks he can vaguely remember someone else yelling his name and apologizing, but he can’t be too sure of anything in this place.

There isn’t much to do except wander, hope for someone or something to appear to make some sense of where he is.

He’s alone.

He’s scared, but trying not to be.

He’s pretty sure he’s been abandoned, but is trying so hard not to let that bother him. The weight in his chest at the thought of everyone moving on isn’t quite as heavy as the weight at the thought of him being dead.

Eventually, the knowledge that he was being watched was all he could focus on. He couldn’t figure out who it was, where they were, or what they were hoping to see.

He kept wandering, hoping for any sign, communication, a way to get back home.

A voice in his head told him to prepare, but he didn’t know what for. The voice told him to be ready for blood, to be ready to taste.

The voice told him he’d be on the frontlines, but frontlines for what?

He wasn’t reliable under pressure, as evidence clearly showed. He didn’t feel like he was capable of what this voice wanted.

But he felt the compulsion to listen, to do what the voice asked. Something in the back of his mind pulled until he lost the ability to reason against the voice.

His time blurred even more, the darkness became a background thought as the voice spoke to him, spouting words that would sink deeply into his hindbrain.

********

Eddie heard voices, something different from the voice telling him to prepare. He could recognize them vaguely.

One voice in particular, though this time it wasn’t crying and begging him to be okay.

Henderson.

The voice in his head pulled him away, made him ignore the freedom in that tone.

He didn’t feel anything for a while. He didn’t see anything. He wasn’t anything.

And then he heard it.

His name.

He saw Steve standing in the corner of a completely destroyed house. The room was unrecognizable but it vaguely resembled a bedroom.

“Eddie. Please. This isn’t you.”

What did that even mean? Of course it was him. He was Eddie.

He looked down at his hands, bloody and shaking, claws covered in unrecognizable debris. His clothes were torn, his body was sore, bruised in places he didn’t realize he could.

“Eddie. Look at me.”

Eddie did. He could listen to this voice. He could let this voice drown out the other one, the one trying so hard to control and push and shove him into a battle he didn’t want to be a part of.

“You’re okay. You didn’t hurt any of the kids,” Steve was holding his hands up as he came closer, slowly. “You won’t hurt me, right?”

Eddie grunted.

“You’ll be okay. I promise. El is helping and we’ll get you home. You wanna go home, right?”

Did he? Up until now, he didn’t know going home was an option. He didn’t even know there was a home to go back to.

What was home? What did he remember?

Steve’s hands covered his, and Eddie tried to pull away.

“Blood.” Eddie’s voice was barely more than a whisper. He wasn’t even sure if Steve heard.

“I don’t care,” Steve reached for his hands again. “It’s been a year of wishing I could fix what happened. A year of wanting to know what your hands feel like when you’re not dying in my arms.”

Eddie felt a strange whimpering noise bubble out of his throat as he took in the state of Steve.

He couldn’t remember everything, but he knew this wasn’t the Steve that he went into the Upside Down with. This was a shell of the Steve he knew. Dark circles under his eyes made him look pale and withdrawn, and his hair had been cut shorter. He seemed thin, missing some of the muscle in his arms and legs.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, Eds. I’m gonna keep you safe. You’re gonna stay here with me until I get a signal that El is done with what she needed to do.”

“Safe. Steve safe?”

The beaming smile on Steve’s face seemed out of place, but Eddie couldn’t help giving what he hoped was a decent smile back. He wasn’t sure he remembered how to smile.

“I’m safe. We’re gonna keep each other safe now.”

The voice in his head was white noise compared to the soothing words coming from Steve.

Minutes passed, and Eddie found it easy to be present with Steve, taking mental note of every movement.

Steve had pulled off his jacket and used it to wipe off as much of the mess coating their skin as he could, only pausing for a moment at the sharp claws replacing normal fingernails on Eddie’s hand.

A flash outside the window followed by a silence made Eddie look at Steve with a silent question in his eyes.

“Alright, we gotta go.”

Steve pulled Eddie along, out of the house that didn’t fit in Eddie’s memories, down the road and towards a set of bikes laying on the ground.

“Kids should be here any second-“

He was interrupted by yelling.

“Eddie!” Dustin and Mike were the first ones to them, but Steve held his hand up to stop them.

His other hand stayed locked with Eddie’s.

“Don’t overwhelm him. One at a time. Slow.”

The kids listened, and something in Eddie’s brain was shocked at that. Were they bad kids?

Dustin hugged him, but Eddie could tell he was holding back. He wrapped his one available arm around him and awkwardly patted his shoulder.

“Henderson.”

Dustin looked up at him with wide, wet eyes. “Yeah, man. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Wheeler.” Eddie looked up at Mike, who was very obviously struggling to maintain composure. “Taller.”

Everyone laughed and Steve squeezed his hand. Mike leaned in for a hug, but was interrupted by yelling.

“Eddie!” Lucas barreled over, ignoring Steve’s too-late warning to take it easy.

That’s okay, though. Eddie was pretty strong now.

He held all three of them against him, not letting go of Steve’s hand the entire time.

Warmth flooded back in, pushing the cold back to where it belonged instead of inside him.

********

“What is he?” Eddie overheard Dustin ask Steve outside the bathroom.

“Not sure. Alive, though. That’s the most important thing.”

Eddie had been ordered to shower, but he’d been quick, and they hadn’t shown him how to turn the water off. There were at least six different knobs or dials that didn’t make sense. He was just standing there with a towel over his shoulders, naked, listening to their conversation.

“Do you think he’s still dangerous?”

“I don’t think he was ever a danger to us. He would’ve hurt us-”

“He hurt you.”

Eddie let out a whimper before slamming open the door.

“Oh, God, dude! Clothes!” Dustin yelled before turning and walking away.

Steve pushed him all the way into the bathroom and closed the door, pointedly not looking below his chest.

“Let’s get the towel on you,” Steve suggested, tugging it off his shoulder and trying to wrap it around his waist without looking.

Eddie could care less about the towel. He knocked Steve’s hands away and tried to look over every inch of visible skin.

“Hurt?”

“Only a little. I’m okay. You stopped,” Steve tried again to get the towel around Eddie for his modesty, but Eddie wasn’t having it.

“Fix it.”

Steve felt his eyes water. “It’s just some scratches. They’ll heal quick.”

“Fix.”

Steve pulled his shirt up and Eddie saw the “scratches.” They were more like gashes, one even maybe needed stitches.

“Always a hero.”

Steve snorted, pulling his shirt back down. “Pan meet pot.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. Steve waved it off.

“Anyway, I can clean it up as soon as you’re done. You look done. Are you done?”

Eddie wasn’t letting Steve brush him off. The more aware he became, the more he remembered, and he knew Steve was the type to brush off even the worst injuries.

“Fix. Now.”

He pushed Steve against the counter as gently as possible, pulled his shirt off over his head, and dropped to his knees to look at the bloody lines along already-healed scars.

“Eddie-” Steve sounded breathless.

Eddie looked up at him, hands gently covering his hips. “I did it?”

Steve’s breath left him in a rush as he pulled Eddie’s hands away and fell to his knees in front of him.

“Vecna did it. He used you to hurt all of us, but you only got me a little before you realized.” Steve was warm, always so warm. Eddie had a hard time focusing on his words when the heat from his skin was calling out to him louder. “You stopped on your own. I’m okay.”

“Warm. Mine.”

If Steve wasn’t warm before, he certainly was now.

“Eds, you’re, um. You should get dressed.”

“No. Warm.” Eddie pulled Steve into his chest and held him there, letting the warmth take over completely.

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, resting his head against Eddie’s shoulder.

“I missed you,” he breathed out, voice shaking. Eddie could feel his breathing where their chests were touching, uneven and borderline panicking. “Missed you so much.”

“Here now.”

“Yeah,” Steve let out a small laugh. “You are. Can’t believe it.”

“Yours?” Eddie felt exhaustion seeping in where the cold had been present before. He wasn’t sure if he was even coherent enough for Steve to understand.

Steve’s lips brushed against his bare shoulder before he pulled back. “Yours like…a boyfriend?”

Eddie wracked his brain trying to figure out what exactly a boyfriend was. He never had one, he didn’t think.

But he remembered thinking as he was dying the first time that Steve would be a good boyfriend. He remembered feeling like he could be a good boyfriend for Steve.

“Hold hands?”

Steve giggled. “Yeah, we could do that. Like earlier?”

“Kiss.”

Steve’s smile faltered. “Yeah. Could do that if you want.”

Eddie felt his own smile growing, watching as Steve blushed.

“Kiss?” He asked this time, wanting Steve to be able to say no. He didn’t want Steve to feel like he had no choice, not when Eddie knew firsthand what it was like to have your choices taken from you.

Steve nodded, leaning in to gently press his lips to Eddie’s.

“I should shower,” Steve said against his mouth.

“Me too.”

“You already did,” Steve snorted.

“Again.”

“Even when you don’t have words, you’re a menace,” Steve shook his head fondly before pecking his lips again. “Fine, but the kids are all downstairs and they will check on us soon if we don’t come down.”

“Later?”

Steve nodded. “Later,” he promised.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiesongfics #kas!eddie munson #hurt/comfort #first kiss #getting together

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puppy-steve · 2 days

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mamma mia (spit your love on me)

E | 1.8k words | ao3

(aka puppy steve)

tags: sub top steve, dom bottom eddie, trans masc eddie, puppy play, breeding kink, mommy kink

Eddie loves it when his puppy gets on his knees for him.

Steve sits so patiently with his ass wagging, his hole stretched open with a fluffy tail plug. His tongue lolling out in pants like an actual dog as he whines and shifts his weight from hand to hand on the floor in front of him. His cock sits hard and untouched between his legs, pre-cum pulsing from the tip and dripping onto the rug.

He keens high in his throat when Eddie spreads the swollen lips of his cunt, showing off his slick hole.

"You want this, puppy?" Eddie asks, fingertips dancing over the opening and dipping briefly inside, enough to make Steve squirm in place and huff out a desperate whine.

Eddie lets out a moan as he slides two fingers inside himself easily, tapering off into a dark chuckle when he sees Steve zero in on the movement.

"Yeah, you do," he coos with a filthy smirk, a little mean and a little degrading, but he knows his puppy likes it. "Haven't even gotten a taste yet and you're already fucking pussy drunk, panting like a desperate mutt."

Eddie brings both feet up on the couch, splaying his legs wide open so Steve can get a good look at his hole stretched around his fingers, moaning when he brushes against his g-spot. He adds a third finger and curls them deep, head tipping back against the couch as his moans get louder and higher.

An impatient whine in front of him makes him open his eyes. Steve's intense gaze is laser focused on Eddie's pulsing cunt as he openly pants, but that's not what catches Eddie's attention. His eyes trail down between his legs to where his pup is shallowly humping the air, moving in time with Eddie's fingers.

Eddie curses quietly and watches Steve's cock swing, hard and thick and leaking, like he can't wait to push it inside Eddie's cunt. Eddie brings his other hand up to stroke his fingers over his own hard dick—he's only sporting an inch and a half compared to Steve's five, but it's enough to play with when fully erect.

"Fuck," Eddie whines as heat curls in his belly, throbbing so deep in his pussy he can feel it in his lower back.

Steve keeps time, digging his nails into the carpet under him to keep himself from rushing forward and claiming what's his. His hips dip low, grinding against nothing.

"Such a good puppy, staying in your place like I told you." Eddie pulls his fingers out and spreads his hole open, giving it a couple slaps and grinning as Steve's nostrils flare. "You wanna fuck me, pup? Huh? Wanna be a good boy and breed Mommy's pussy?"

Steve's cock gives a dangerous lurch, and for a split second, Eddie's worried he'll come before he's told, but he only leaks more and gives an enthusiastic nod, his hair flopping into his eyes.

Eddie gives a soft coo and finally beckons him forward with slick covered fingers. “Sweet boy,” he praises, rubbing his juices all over Steve’s lips, letting him suck and lick at them messily. “Been so patient, haven’t you, baby?”

Steve’s eyes flutter shut and he leans into the clean hand scratching his scalp.

“Think you deserve a reward, first, then I’ll let you fuck me. Is that alright, sweetheart?”

Steve looks up at him with a questioning tilt of his head. Eddie dips his fingers inside of himself again, gathering up slick and coating his dick in it.

He guides Steve’s head closer to his cunt, shuddering when he can feel his warm breath against his wetness. “Go ahead and lick me, baby,” he says. “Show Mommy what that pretty mouth can do.”

He’s hesitant at first, tongue flicking out and just barely licking over him, making sure that this isn’t a trick and he really is allowed. With one more glance up at Eddie and another nod, Steve buries his tongue deep between Eddie’s lips.

Eddie throws his head back with a moan and buries both hands in Steve’s hair. He doesn’t lap at him impatiently—he takes his time and works Eddie’s hole open, mixing spit and slick and groaning at the taste as he licks inside of him.

“Good boy, puppy,” Eddie praises with a breathy whine, grinding his hips against Steve’s mouth without shame. “Mommy’s good boy, so perfect for me.”

Steve licks more enthusiastically at the praise and moves up to lap at the underside of Eddie’s cock. He flicks it and rolls it on his tongue, feeling braver with every stroke and suck and desperate cry that leaves Eddie’s lips.

The coil in Eddie’s belly threatens to snap and he becomes blind with pleasure, humping Steve’s face and spreading his juices all over his chin. He’s gasping out curses and writhing, making sounds that would have people mistaking him for the puppy in their dynamic. But he’s so close, he just needs Steve to keep his tongue right there, gonna make me come so hard, puppy, fuck–

One hard suck to his dick and the slide of a finger inside him to rub at his g-spot has Eddie coming with a shout and seeing stars.

He crunches forward at the waist, almost doubling over Steve’s head, digging his nails into Steve’s scalp. He’ll apologize for it later when he washes his hair in the bath, but right now, his entire lower half is jerking, Steve’s lips still attached to his pussy as he rides the aftershocks.

When the stimulation becomes too much, Eddie hauls Steve up by his hair and captures his lips in a filthy kiss, sucking on his tongue and licking behind his teeth to swallow the taste of himself.

Steve grips the couch cushions on either side of Eddie’s hips, whimpering into the kiss and chasing every flick of Eddie’s tongue. A hand reaches between them and grips his aching cock tight at the base. It’s the first touch he’s had in over an hour and he forces himself to keep his hips still and not fuck his hips forward.

Eddie swallows each and every one of his muffled trills and cries. “You’re such a good boy,” he says, his tone syrup sweet as he starts stroking him from root to tip. He can feel it pulse in his hand, the purple head weeping all over his fingers. “Waited so long for this, but don’t worry, puppy, you’ll get what you want soon.”

Steve’s mouth is open. Drool drips from his tongue and his eyes are glassy and unfocused as he lets out keening whines.

“Pretty pup,” Eddie brushes Steve’s hair back with his free hand, the other speeding up on his cock. “Gonna let you have my pussy real soon, I promise.”

His puppy does an excited shuffle and Eddie gives a soft laugh. “Yeah? That what you want?” He takes Steve’s chin and shakes it a little. “Wanna knot Mommy’s pussy full of your cum until it takes?”

Steve’s reply is just a muffled plea of noises. It’s the closest he can get to speaking when they’re playing, as he isn’t allowed to use words.

Eddie hums and lets go of Steve’s cock to situate himself so he’s laying down on the couch. “Come here, puppy.” He pats the cushion and Steve climbs up between his legs, draping himself over Eddie’s body and tucking his face in the crook of his neck.

Eddie spurs him on with an encouraging moan as he starts humping his cock against his wet slit. “Nice and slow, baby, there you go. Get your dick all wet for me.” He tilts his head back as Steve kisses up and down his throat, shivering at the little bites he leaves.

He spreads his legs further when he feels the head of his cock nudge against his hole, asking for permission. Eddie reaches down and guides it in, letting out a hiss as Steve pushes it the rest of the way.

Steve trembles in his arms, huffing out little whimpers against his neck and gripping his waist tight as Eddie’s sensitive pussy flutters around him. Eddie gently shushes him and pets his hair, peppering soft kisses over the side of his face.

“So good, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing his other hand up and down Steve’s spine. “Love the way your cock fills me up.” He bears his hips down and feels the blood rush to his ears as his puppy gives an aborted thrust. He crosses his legs around the small of Steve’s back and presses him deeper with a whimper of his own, signaling for Steve to move.

Fortunately, through the thick fog filling his brain, Steve catches on and pulls out slowly until just the tip is barely touching him, then he shoves back in with a speed that makes Eddie clutch at Steve’s back and shout out.

The pace is brutal, but it always is when they play and Eddie’s been extra mean. Edging his puppy for well over an hour before he finally lets him bully his way into his wet cunt. Letting him use him like a toy for his own pleasure.

Skin slapping against skin and Steve’s grunts mixing with Eddie’s moans and cries—yesyesyes, like that, puppy, don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—until Steve is taking Eddie’s hands and pinning them above his head, making Eddie arch so pretty underneath him, making his cock slide deeper and hit his g-spot with every thrust.

Until Eddie is shaking and choking out a sob as he comes a second time, his legs tightening around Steve’s waist so he can grind his hips down and work his pussy on the thick cock inside him, milking his puppy closer and closer toward his own orgasm.

“Keep going, puppy,” Eddie pants in his ear, licking the bead of sweat dripping down Steve’s temple. “Fuck me ‘til you come, wanna feel it all the way up in my throat–”

The cry that Steve makes is hoarse. His thrusts become more erratic the more that Eddie speaks until he’s biting down on his shoulder. Eddie can feel the pulse of his cock inside of him followed by his warm cum coating his walls and filling him deep.

They both cling to each other as they come down, neither caring that they’re both sweaty and gross and sticky. Eddie holds Steve close and kisses him and whispers praise into his ear of how good he made him feel and how much he loves him, and Steve just snuggles closer.

Afterwards, when he’s completely soft, he’ll pull out and drop to his knees once more to watch as Eddie spreads his legs, holding his knees up to his chest as he pushes Steve’s cum out of his pussy. “Now be a good boy and clean up your mess.”

special taglist: @stevesjockstrap @hammity-hammer @corrodedbisexual @corrodedcoughin @spectrum-spectre

@matchingbatbites @steves-strapcollection @tboygareth @theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle

@stobinesque @starrystevie @steddieas-shegoes @starryeyedjanai @shares-a-vest

@sidekick-hero @emchant3d

#cj talks #cj writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #🐶#ftm eddie #transmasc eddie munson #sub top steve harrington #dom bottom eddie munson

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 12 hours

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Part 5 of Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Sorry guys this turned out crappy, I'm really unhappy with this one but I hope the next part will be better again. Finally we get to see readers perspective on things. Also name reveal of readers dog, finally. - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 -

So there’s this new butcher. He’s kind of intimidating but he’s nice. At least you’re pretty sure he’s nice. He rarely speaks but the meat at that shop is the best so you power through the anxiety the big man induces (the first time you caught a glimpse of him you had to hide and gather your nerves before going inside).

God, he’s big. Built like a brick shithouse he looms over you even behind the counter. The fact that Wraith has to wait outside the shop makes you wring your fingers nervously on the regular. You’re happy that Simon, that’s what his name tag said, never gives off creep vibes.

Still, stepping into the shop always makes you want to curl in on yourself. Somehow the butcher has a way of taking up the entire room with his presence. The way he stands and moves makes you think he somehow got dominance drilled into his genes. Maybe if you go in often enough some of that will rub off on you, god knows you’d enjoy being a bit intimidating.

When he allows you to bring in Wraith with you, you reconsider. Simon isn’t just nice. He’s kind.

Sure he’s quiet and big and he could snap your neck with one hand (don’t think about that, don’t think about that) but he’s considerate. The consideration he showed for you also proved that he is scarily observant and you’re not sure you like that.

You hate being observed or looked at. You’d prefer to be a ghost, existing in the world but not being perceived. But since you don’t plan on dying anytime soon you got yourself your own personal bodyguard.

Wraith is the sweetest soul on earth and you’re not sure what you did to find him. He saved you in more ways than one and it seems you saved the scarred and tired dog too.

Being allowed to bring him into the shop with you helps a lot. As big and scary as the butcher is, Wraith could do serious damage to him if he so much as raised a hand against you.

So you’re pretty confident nowadays when you go to buy Wraith’s treats. Over time Simon has grown to be a new part of your routine and you don’t mind him anymore. He might be a goddamn intense man but he’s proven himself to be nice (you just pray that your intuition isn’t wrong with him).

You’d even say you’re more or less comfortable around him by now so when you walk in one day and hear one of your favorite songs play you can’t contain yourself. Maybe you’re making a fool of yourself in front of the butcher but the way he chuckles immediately soothes you. He doesn’t seem to judge you at all.

Still you’d be mortified by yourself (you can’t remember the last time you were yourself that much anywhere besides your own four walls) if Simon didn’t smile at you behind his mask and oh... His eyes are kind and sparkle lively with mirth; you’ve never seen him have an expression like that before.

Suddenly you realize how hidden the man keeps himself. Always behind a mask never any unnecessary movements, always controlled. To see his eyes so expressive is kind of a shock. But it’s a good shock, you decide.

It’s the first real conversation you have with him and it’s about music. That immediately makes you warm up to him even more. So much so, that you end up admitting that you don’t want to go to a concert alone.

You’ve barely recovered from making a fool of yourself and having the first real conversation with the butcher, when he pulls the rug out from under your feet:

”I’m planning on going to that concert, wanna join me? I’ll make sure you’re safe, sweetheart.”

#the sewer writes #simon ghost riley x reader #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #butcher!simon x gn!reader #au #cod x reader

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newluvrs · 2 days

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PARTY 4 U [PT. 1]

Sungchan ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎ mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: WANTED U - JOJI word count: 2.1k bb note: >:]

You should’ve known your heart was too delicate for this. Incapable of detaching physical affection from romantic feeling. Or maybe you would have been able to pull it off, just with someone else. Definitely not with a friend you made your first semester in college who you had harbored a silent crush on for the last 4 years. But Sungchan was easy to love, even before you realized what it is you felt for him. He was beautiful beyond reason, and you watched him transform before your very eyes from the nervous and awkward boy freshman year, into someone who walked and talked confidence. But to you, he would always maintain a boyishness to him. A part of him that you cherished because you felt like he only showed it to you in the private moments the two of you shared.

The night everything started, you had both had a few too many drinks amongst friends hosted at his place. He was always the flirtatious one, but everyone knew that you yourself couldn’t hold back when you got a little tipsy. It started off innocent enough, being forced to sit pressed up against each other to accommodate everyone in the room. But then came the lingering stares, turning into touches that lasted a little too long, a hand on your thigh to catch your attention, you running your nails across his bicep in admiration of the time he spent at the campus gym. You had both done this song and dance a few times over the years, but never taking it too far. The timing was just never right, you had a boyfriend, or he had a girlfriend, or he was getting over a breakup or you just got out of a messy relationship, etc. Maybe it’s because of the way the circumstances lined up, but at the end of the night when the party goers eventually dwindled down with the remaining few leaving for a food run, you didn’t accept the invitation to tag along. Claims of feeling too ill to sit in a moving car right now falling easily from your lips, the feeling of your thigh pressed against Sungchan’s not something you were willing to sacrifice. You could barely hear them as they called they would be right back, your focus turning to him once the door shut behind them.

It wasn’t quick and heated like you see in the movies when the two leads finally get together, with lips crashing against each other and grabby hands. It was something different altogether, something better.

All your bite left you when the door shut, body going still against his, not wanting to be the one who says something first. You turn your face away from his, too afraid to come face to face with the result of your rash decision, worried that maybe you overthought everything. A silence passes, and then some more, and you’re starting to think that maybe he was just doing it for fun, of course he wouldn’t kiss you.

And then, so quiet and so gentle you barely feel it, you feel his lips on your temple. Your heart feels like its slamming against your rib cage as you feel his large hand cup your jaw ever so gently. In that same manner, he turns you to look at him, a thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You bring your gaze to his, catching the way he looks at your lips and then back at your eyes. Slowly he brings his face to yours, you doing the same, fluttering your eyes closed when you feel his lips press against yours for the first time. Your heart explodes despite the softness of the kiss, and you wish you could kiss him all the time, in any context. When he pulls away you feel a little dazed, you hear him swallow before he whispers,

“Is this okay?”

All you offer is a nod of your head, already leaning in again, feeling bold now. The second kiss is more sure, your mouth firm against his as his hands are on the back of your neck now, holding you in place as you lean into him. It’s starting to get a little more heated with each press of your lips against the other’s, both of you growing restless, the angle starting to hurt your neck a little. As you kiss him, he tries to slide you into his lap from his spot on the couch, picking up your legs so you get the hint. You pull away briefly when you understand, moving to straddle him, body pressed flush to his on his sofa.

You're embarrassed to admit but already you can feel yourself getting wet. The heightened emotions coupled with the pretty boy pressed against you and your light buzz going on making you horny. Sungchan’s not faring much better, if the half-hard bulge pressed against your core is anything to go by. From his spot underneath you he kisses at your neck, nipping occasionally, the sensation of it making you unconsciously grind your hips against his. When he lets out a moan against your throat, its all over. He brings his hands to your ass as you push your mouth back onto his, his large hands encouraging you to hump against him as his tongue enters your mouth. From there everything is rushed, chasing the only goal the two of you can think of at the moment, release before everyone gets back.

Sungchan wishes it was different, he wishes he could take you to his room and take his time with you. In his head he knows exactly what he would do, starting with feeling you up, just groping every part of your body within his reach. He would pull pretty noises from you until you were desperate enough for him before pushing a hand over your panty covered cunt, rubbing you over the fabric, wanting to feel how soaked you get. And you’re just so pretty, he would never admit to anyone other to himself the amount of times he’s gotten off to the thought of you over the last few years. In his fantasies he imagines that you get so wet, so messy and just for him. And when you soak through your panties, then he would toy with you without them on, finding out exactly how you like to be fingered, playing with your clit until it was twitching, drawing it out as much as he could. Only after making you cum on his fingers would he finally give you what you want, fucking you exactly the way you need him to until your creaming around him. God he prays that he gets more time with you in the future.

For now, he settles for pulling your hips against his in tandem with his grinds against you. He hates that you wore jeans, the baggy fabric of the denim too thick to see how wet you are for him. But he can tell the press of the fabric against you is making you feel good, if your gasps are telling him correctly. Despite never seeing you get off, when your gasps start to get hiccup-y he can tell you’re getting close, as you lean down to sink your teeth into his shoulder.

“close, baby?”

The pet name makes you want to die, breathe stuttering when you hear it. Sungchan notes this before taking in your nod, starting to fuck up his hips a little rougher, trying to make sure you feel all of him even through the layers of clothing separating the two of you. He can feel that he’s close too, cock painfully hard in his own jeans, needing release. When you start to whine as you move your hips with more vigor he can tell you’re right there.

“Make a mess, y/n.”

That’s all it takes before you’re cumming against him, rolling your hips as deep as you can, his hands still on your ass to guide you through it. You push yourself to keep going, even when the sensitivity starts to become a bit much, trying to get him to cum also. When he finally does he grips your ass hard, pressing against you tightly as he lets out a few more thrusts against you, you watch his blissed out expression as he cums with his head tossed back. You swear you hear him utter a “take it”, but that’s something you’re gonna have to return to later. For now you both just sit there panting as you collapse against his chest.

You can’t help but wonder what the fuck you just did, being able to fully weigh the implications of your actions now that the horniness clouding your brain is gone. You’re too scared to speak, too scared to move. The only thing that gets you up and pulled to your senses is Sungchan letting you know that he can see the shared locations of your friends heading back now. This would be the first of many times the both of you helped clean each other up afterwards. In an embarrassing turn of events you ended up having to ask Sungchan for a spare pair of boxers, knowing that the large fabric would be partially annoying but not as annoying as walking around with a soaked through pair of panties.

He lets you use his private bathroom to get situated, and when you finally emerge you’re holding your balled up pair of underwear pinched between two fingers. If he hadn’t just came Sungchan would no doubt be popping a boner again at the thought of his clothing worn to protect your most intimate parts. Humiliation burns through you as you try and think of a less totally awkward way of asking for a Ziploc bag for your panties. Sungchan senses this, half-enjoying the way you look so flustered as you struggle to come up with the right words and jumps at the opportunity, not even trying to hide his possessiveness.

“I could just.. keep them… you know, for safekeeping..”

As he says this he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, his attempt at being nonchalant failing miserably, making you giggle.

“Sure Sungchan.. for ‘safekeeping’, definitely for no other reason.”

When you toss them at him, he does his best to make the way he fumbles to catch them look less pathetic. Clearing his throat once he has them, tucking them in his nightstand drawer. That is definitely going to keep you awake later. You pray to god that everyone is still too out of their mind when they come back to bring up how Sungchan did an entire outfit change. The only person sober enough to notice being Shotaro, but he’s kind enough to not say anything in front of everyone. The both of you come up with some bullshit story about how you accidentally spilt the remnants of your vodka redbull on him just in case anyone mentions it. You had to argue with him to change it from his original story of you puking on him, wanting to save yourself at least a little pride.

Once you’re both settled back on the couch the same way you were when everyone left, there’s a certain tension hanging in the air. His arm hangs around the back of the couch, and if you leaned back far enough then it would be wrapped around you. You don’t know what any of this means, and you’re starting to feel like maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did. Yes, it was a dream come true, but you still can’t get a read on how he feels. The tragedies write themselves really, because when he asks you the question you had been waiting for, you fumble.

“So,”

You turn to look at him at the sound of his voice, and he’s looking at you too tenderly, and you’re starting to panic,

“what.. what is this?”

Why is he making you answer that question? What is it that he wanted it to be? And are you crazy for thinking too much into it? What if all he wanted was to fuck, and what if when you asked for more he got weirded out. What were you supposed to say?

“Um..”

He watches how you hesitate, the sound of you swallowing audible in the quiet room. If you would just look at him you would see the want in his eyes, the way his own heart is beating too loudly and too quickly. When you hear the voices of your friends coming down the hall of his apartment building, you panic as the doorknob jiggles.

“let’s just keep it casual?”

And if you were watching him, you would see how his smile falls. But there’s not enough time and the door is opening and he’s pulling his arm away from you, sitting up straighter on the sofa. The last thing you hear before your friends greet you with stories of their drunk trip to Mcdonald’s being Sungchan’s voice sounding absurdly small as he says,

“if it’s what you really want..”

#riize smut #riize x reader #sungchan #sungchan x reader #sungchan smut #riize hard hours

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artists-ally · 7 hours

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{Fake It Like You Love Me} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson x Cassian

*slowly creeps up from the depths of hell* Heeeeeeeey, glad you guys remember I still exist 😭😭 First off, THANK YOU for 600 followers. That's insane and I don't deserve you all so thank you so fucking much. SECONDDDD, here is another part of my Fuck Away The Pain series!! Sorry this has taken me so long to do, but I think you for your patience. As always, let me know what you think and feel free to drop a request if you have any!!! Enjoy! Title and series inspired by this song.

Part 1: {Show Me Where It Hurts} Part 2: {Dirty Little Curse} these do not need to be read in order to be enjoyed!

Word Count: 7,630

Warnings: Smut. Like... an alarming amount of smut. ACOTAR x FOURTH WING, Dom/Sub, MMMF, use of the nicknames "pet" and "sir", oral (M and F receiving), pet play, degrading, praise kink, choking, spanking, cum eating, unprotected sex.

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters @highladyofterrasen7 @annabethgranger123 @acourtofbatboydreams @thatacotargirl @berryzxx @throneofsmut

Summary: It is just after the legendary snowball fight. Azriel, Cassian, Rhys and Xaden are in the sauna while you, Mor, and Feyre are inside the cabin. Once Rhys leaves, it seems that there is a vacant spot that needs to be filled.

~~~~~

“So, explain this to me again?”

“Every year, they have a snowball fight. They just keep going and going and going until there’s a winner,” Feyre explains. “This is the first time you and Xaden are here so I think they’re taking it easy.”

From off to the side of the cabin, we hear a shout and then a chorus of laughter.

“Maybe not,” Mor says, peeking out the window. “Cassian just decked Riorson in the face.”

I giggled, sipping my warm tea and curling my legs under myself. “Probably made fun of Cassian’s hair or something. Called him a wet dog.”

“You know damn well that animal will come in here and shake like one too.”

“And after the sauna? Yuck, it’s going to smell for ages in here,” Mor shakes her head.

“The sauna?”

Both of them stop dead in their tracks, exchanging a knowing glance. Feyre looks at me with a twisted smirk. “You don’t know about the sauna?”

“Should I be afraid?”

“Definitely,” Mor grins, setting down her cup. “After they get done, they all go into the sauna together.”

“Naked?” I dare to ask.

“Terribly so,” Feyre adds. “A few years ago, on my first trip to the cabin, I got Rhys kicked out because… well, he just couldn’t stop thinking of me.”

I damn near choked. Then I burst out laughing. I can imagine it. Rhys, Azriel and Cassian sitting in the sauna together. It must be some sort of rule they have. If one of them gets a little too hot and bothered, they’re out. But the thought of them all in there, Azriel and Xaden sweating… does some pretty magical things to my brain.

And the space between my thighs.

“Gods you are just as bad as they are, Yn,” Mor fake gags, coming to sit next to me. “Don’t get too excited. None of us have ever been in, and none of us ever will.”

“Really? That’s kind of shocking, honestly.” There hasn’t been one exception? “I know Cassian is a bit of a…”

“Male whore?” Mor fills in the blank. It makes me giggle.

“I don’t quite know everyone well enough to make those assumptions, but Cassian definitely gives off a certain… aura.”

“Oh please, he’d take it as a compliment,” Mor smiles, playing with some of my loose hair. “But no, not even him. Now, what I cannot believe is how you ended up with both Az and Riorson. That is truly a work of art.”

I can’t help the smile that blooms onto my face. “Some are just more blessed than others.”

Feyre barks a laugh, “I’ll say. You got lucky with those two, you know.”

“I know. We’re not like– together together, but they take very good care of me. I honestly kind of like it. It's all the best parts of a relationship without having to worry about if everyone is getting enough attention. They give me what I need, and I give them what they need.”

“Have you ever asked for more? To be in a real relationship?” Mor asks, curiosity getting the best of her. Feyre smacks her in the shoulder. “Ow!”

“Don’t be insensitive,” the High Lady reprimands.

“Don’t be silly,” I wave them off. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t think that’s what I want. Sure, being in love is great and all, but why complicate it? We work flawlessly together right now, why change? If either of them brings it up, I’ll be open to the idea. But for right now I’m thriving. They are far too generous anyway. They constantly bring me gifts or invite me out to dinner. They’re doing enough for me. Far more than enough.” “Not to mention the world's best sex,” Mor wiggled her eyebrows at me. “What’s it like with the two of them? Are the rumors of the Illyrian true? What about Xaden, is he packing too? Gods I bet he is, isn’t he? Now, I am the last Fae in Prythian who’d want to be taken by two males, but… for the both of them? I might reconsider. Tell me, does Az-”

“Cauldron boil me,” Feyre sighs. “I’m getting a drink.”

“Ooh! Will you bring me-”

“No,” Feyre scolds, heading into the kitchen.

“Crony bitch.”

“I heard that!” Feyre shouts from the other room.

Mor and I share a laugh, snuggling in close together. “This is so fun.”

“Isn’t it?” Mor says, “You’re always welcome back, Yn. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Az so relaxed. He looks… happy. And I can’t vouch for Riorson but he looks like he needs this too.”

“Yeah it’s been a stressful couple weeks for Xaden. There was a huge issue in his homeland and he nearly lost his life. His dragon is bonded to someone else in his squad, and her dragon almost died. It was scary. I’m just glad he’s okay. On the flight up here he was giving me all his strategies on how he was going to win.” There’s a loud cackle from outside and the sound of bodies running into each other. I looked over the back of the couch, seeing Xaden at the bottom of the pile, snow being shoveled into his face. “Guess they didn’t work so well.”

“They’re probably done now,” Mor explains.

“Sauna time?”

“Sauna time.”

The door opens and the four males clamber in, shaking snow from their hair and clothes.

“I’m gonna get you back for that Rhys,” Xaden grins, evil intent behind those onyx eyes.

“I’d like to see you try. Hey Mor, hi Yn. Where’s Feyre?” Rhys pats the top of Mor’s head, offering me a kind smile.

“In the kitchen!” She calls, the High Lord following the sound of her voice.

Cassian makes a b-line for the couch, shaking his head like a mutt. Mor squeals, I just shut my eyes and take the damage. When I open them, he snickers and sits on the floor, sighing loudly. “And that makes 181 wins for yours truly.”

“Then he must have cheated,” Mor gags, wiping off Cassian’s grime with the bottom of her shirt. “For fucks sake Cass you stink.”

“I’m a hard working male,” he begs to differ.

“Only thing you’re working is gonna be my foot in your ass,” Mor chides, standing up. “I’m going to shower, I smell like a dog.”

“You wish you smelled as good as me. Sorry to catch you in the crossfire, Yn.”

“It’s all good,” I smile, rubbing the few drops I got off on my sleeve.

But the look on Xaden’s face when he comes to sit next to me reflects anything but. He’s got a scowl directed at Cassian, but he makes quick work of masking it, planting a kiss on my cheek. A moment later, Azriel does the same thing.

“Should you be sitting on the couch?” I ask. Xaden’s hair a soaking wet mess, his clothes more the same.

“Trust me,” Azriel chimes in, “There have been far worse things on this couch.”

I blink at him, wondering if I would need to burn my clothes after this. He plops down next to me, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind my shoulders.

Cassian looks between all three of us. Clearly seeing the size difference and taking notes about it. “I should probably keep my mouth shut.”

“That would be wise, brother,” Azriel grumbles, stretching out his legs. “Where's Rhys? Im fucking freezing and I wanna go in the sauna.”

“He’s in the kitchen with Feyre,” Mor said, rounding the corner from the washroom. She clearly didn’t shower, but she smelled much better. “And we all know what happened the last time the two of them were left alone here.”

“What happened?” Xaden and I asked at the same time.

“Nothing,” Azriel, Cassian and Mor responded in unison.

The dragon rider and I shared a look, a silent promise to ask Az about it later. We had a nice evening planned, dinner with everyone, and then they were going to let Az, Xaden and I spend the night in the cabin. We’ve never been here before today so it was a generous offer. I can tell how much this place means to all of them.

No one needs a vivid imagination to get an idea of what’s going to happen later.

“Fuck him,” Cassian pushes to his feet, binding his hair back with a strip of leather. “Come on, let's get started. He can decide later if he wants to join.”

Cassian and Xaden head out the door, but Az stays seated next to me. “Having fun?”

“Of course,” I reassured, patting his thigh. “Mor and Feyre are very kind. And this is a lovely cabin.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“Looks like you two had a lot of fun,” I smile, resting my cheek on his damp shoulder. “You smell far better than Cassian.”

“Naturally,” Az smirked. “And yes we did. Xaden needed it, you needed it. It’s always just been the three of us every year, but it felt right to have Xaden here in the mix. You too, obviously.”

“Glad I could make the cut,” I joked, receiving a pinch on my ear.

“Brat.”

“That’s not even close to me being a brat and you know it.” “Don’t I ever,” he grinned, covering my mouth with his. Despite the chill coming from his body, his lips were warm and soft. Full of life, vibrance, and need. “By the sound of it, Rhys won’t be joining us in the sauna. We won’t be in there long, will you bring us some towels around four?”

I looked at the analog on the wall, the hands reading 3:22pm. I nodded, “Sure.”

He curled my hair around his fingers before standing, following the other two outside.

In the meantime, I hung out with Mor and we talked about random stuff. She tried to get more details about Az and Xaden, but I wasn’t willing to give them up. We played a few card games, had a snack and a glass of wine before she winnowed off the mountain and back to Velaris to meet some friends at Rita’s.

Just as I was curling up with a book, I felt a cool whisper circle my wrist. A strand of Azriel’s shadow wrapped around and around in a never ending bracelet. I smiled, looking at the clock. Just seven past four. I head for the closet, grabbing three thick, soft tan towels.

Damn, it's cold out here. How do they not freeze to death? I carefully step in their footsteps so my toes don’t get frozen off. There is a little stone path to the sauna and I gladly jump from stone to stone. With the towels under my arm, I knock on the door.

“I brought your towels, they’ll be out here on this chest,” I shouted, unsure if they’d be able to hear me through the thick wood paneling. There was a small jut out from the roof over the door, ensuring they wouldn’t get covered with snow.

“Will you bring them in?” Xaden calls.

I skidded to a halt, damn near knocking myself over. Did he just say what I think he said? “I thought no females were allowed in the sauna?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassian’s voice boomed. “We just need the towels so our bits don’t freeze off. You can close your eyes if you’re scared.”

Scared? I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t particularly care to see Cassian sprawled out with all his glory on display. Well, okay that's a complete lie. Ever since I first saw the Lord of Bloodshed, I thought he was… well… hot. He’s tall, all thick muscle and confidence. He knows he’s hot shit. I’d imagine if he were a closer friend that confidence might piss me off, but I think he’s funny. He knows what he’s got and he’s not afraid to show it.

“Are you going to bring them or not?” Xaden shouts.

Oh. Right. The towels.

I take a steadying breath and push open the door. A wave of humid, damp air blasts me in the face, instantly melting the flecks of snow on my hair and lashes. There isn’t a light save for a few windows to let some ventilation in. It's dark, but I can make out the three figures. Azriel and Xaden are to the left, and Cassian is to the right.

I keep my eyes on my boys and place towels in Xadens open arms. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Of course,” I smile, carefully avoiding any glimpses of Cassian in my peripherals. Just before I can reach the safety of the outdoors, Azriel’s hand wraps around my wrist, gently tugging me in front of him. His other hand curls around my hip, pinning me still. “Yes, my shadow?”

He all but purrs at the nickname. “Stay.”

Stay. Stay? As in… in here? With him and Xaden and Cassian? “You guys enjoy your time together.”

I tried to take another step, but he sat up, gripping my body to keep it positioned between his powerful legs. I trailed my eyes down his torso, seeing a bit of a surprise waiting for me. “I told you to stay.”

Heat flooded my body, a different heat than the one coursing through the sauna. I quickly glance at Xaden to see him exchanging a glance with Cassian across the way.

“I- I wouldn’t want to kick Cassian out just because you want me, Az. That’s rude,” I say, my breath hitching when he slides his hands under my thick wool sweater. He rakes his nails down my back and I momentarily forget that there is a third set of eyes watching.

“I don’t think Cassian would mind the show, would you, Cass?” Azriel looks around my torso at the Illyrian, and I have to force myself not to do the same.

There isn’t a verbal response from him.

Az roughly grips my hips, forcing me to sit down in his lap. His mouth attaches to mine before I can make a sound. I flinch momentarily when he bites down on my lip, his pace fast and aggressive. The sauna is silent save for the sound of our lips meeting.

Sweat begins to swell around my hairline, trickling down the back of my neck. He removes my sweater and tosses it towards the open door. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and the hot air coats my bare back. Azriel breaks the kiss, latching onto my neck and collar bone.

“Az,” I say, already breathless. “Wh-What are you doing?”

“Are you telling me that you’ve never thought about Cassian before?”

Shit. SHIT.

“I- well I didn’t- not in the way you think I would’ve I was just-”

“That certainly didn’t sound like a no, Yn,” Azriel looks up at me, a knowing glint in his eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I- I didn’t think… I would’ve never thought that-”

“You have five seconds to tell me to stop. One.”

“Azriel I-”

“Two.” He pushes me back to my feet.

My knees buckle and it’s an effort to keep myself upright in the sweltering humidity. “Why would I have thought that you and Xaden would want-”

“Three.” He stands, towering over me.

I huff in annoyance. “Azriel, stop counting-”

“Four.” Az makes me take two steps back, advancing on me.

“Xaden will you please fucking-”

“Five.” His fingers wrap around my throat and push me back. Directly into Cassian. A second set of hands find their way onto my body. Cassian grips my hips, keeping me from falling. I am deathly still. I hardly breathe. I don’t dare make a noise. “You’d like it if Cassian joined, wouldn’t you?”

I don’t respond.

“She looks petrified,” Xaden points out very matter-of-factly.

“I like it when she’s scared, she obeys when she is. Isn’t that right pet?”

One word. One stupid nickname and I’m under his spell. Fuck, of course I want Cassian to join. I haven’t ever seen him without clothes, but he doesn’t leave much to the imagination. “I- I umm-”

“Just admit it and I’ll let you go,” Azriel demands, tightening his fingers for emphasis. It’s nowhere near a dangerous amount, but it makes my breath hitch.

“Yes yes,” I rush out, senses on fire.

“Yes what, pet? Come on, you know the rules. If you want Cass to join you have to tell him.”

Azriel releases me, and if it weren’t for Cassian holding me up, I would’ve keeled over. The combination of the restricted airflow and the density of the heat in the sauna was going to make a lethal combo.

And I craved it.

I quickly slipped under, fully ready to play with the three of them. I gently turn and look down at Cassian. His bronze skin is shining with sweat, hair still bound behind his head. I take a deep breath, swallowing. “Would you like to play with us, Cassian?”

His eyes dilate, tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips. “I thought you’d never ask, darling.”

Relief floods me and I smile. I am so thrilled he said yes. I look over at Az and Xaden, waiting for their command. I desperately need them to tell me what to do. This is already so overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and welcome Cassian, okay?”

I don’t need to be told twice. Like he knows what I was thinking, his knees spread apart, inviting me in. I sink down to the floor and stare up at him through my wet lashes. “Messy or clean?”

A grin spreads across the Illyrians mouth. “Oh, she’s good. Messy, darling. I want to see you ruined.”

Cassian’s finger separated my lips and I sucked on his thumb. He pressed down on my tongue, and I swirled it around his digit. Meanwhile, his other hand fisted himself, and I couldn’t help but take a glance.

Cauldron boil me alive–

I delicately reach a hand out and replace mine with his. The warrior's head falls back and he shuts his eyes. My hand is so much smaller than… well, every part of him. I stroke up and down, gently thumbing the small slit at the tip. A few drops slide down onto my finger and I generously lick them off. He definitely tastes similar to Az, but nothing like Xaden.

The moment my tongue circles him, he cuts loose a moan deep from his chest.

“Fuck you’re so warm,” Cassian lifts his head, taking in the sight of me taking him in. I swallow around him, drawing more sounds out of him.

“I think what makes it so good is she loves doing it. Don’t you, Yn? You love being stuffed full,” Azriel comes up behind me, his presence stealing my breath away. Maybe it’s the added heat that makes my head dizzy. “That’s right, work him all the way down. Get him nice and deep.”

I push and push my head all the way down his cock, taking a moment to stay still, just emphasizing exactly what I can do. Cassian laughs at me, full on laughs. A mocking sort of sound that spreads goosebumps all across my skin. He bucks his hips, really testing how far he can push me.

“Oh, she’s good,” he grunts, head tipping back again. “Keep that perfect mouth moving, darling.”

My ears are ringing a little. Whether that be from the heat or the sheer overstimulation, it’s hard to tell, but I didn’t react right away. The next thing I knew, one of Azriel’s hands was fisting my hair, the other braced at the back of my head. I nearly choked when I was ripped away and then slammed down onto his cock a few times.

“You heard him, Yn. Take his cock like the good slut you are,” Azriel reprimanded. He continued to overpower me, making me work up and down on Cassian. I let my jaw go slack, along with my hands braced on Cassian’s thighs. I let out a content sigh as I was fucked on Cassian’s cock.

I rocked with Azriels movements. His grip singed my scalp and an ache formed in my jaw. It was familiar, ignorable, but present nonetheless. I was glad to have them doing all the work, it was far too hot in here to think clearly… even without the added exertion.

When Az decided I got the memo, he let go of my head and I continued the motions with steady practice. I closed my eyes, feeling every drop of sweat on my body. My thick, fleece lined leggings were beginning to soak through. Xaden’s calloused hands found their way to my waste and began to slide them off. With a pop, I pulled off of Cassian, giving my jaw a much needed break. Xaden peeled them from my legs, taking my underwear with them. But, before he let me sit back down, he laid down on his back, beckoning me to ease on top of him.

“Surely you’ll suffocate, it’s already unbearably hot in here,” I huff, catching my breath.

“Then I shall go doing what I love most,” the dragon rider replies. “Sit.”

I looked to Az, silently asking if this really was a smart decision. He just gave me a pointed nod with narrow eyes, a promise that if I didn’t listen he’d make working for my release miserable. So I obeyed without a second thought.

The moment his tongue curled into me, I sighed. Aimlessly, my hand worked tentatively up and down Cassian’s shaft, drawing a few sounds out of the General. “Let me fuck your throat, darling.”

There must’ve been a sparkle in my eye because I grinned, opening wide for him to do so. His length was thick. Almost too thick. And long. Fucks sake everything about him was big. I was up for the challenge. As it hit the back of my throat, I relaxed, letting his hands fall around my ears. It was gentle at first, his thrusts long and even. I moaned in tandem with the licks I was receiving from Xaden, my mind a melted, scrambled mess of ecstasy. With a particularly hard suck on my clit, I jerked the opposite way Cassian was going.

“Ah ah ah,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “You don’t get to run away from me. Take what you’ve been given. Be a good fucking girl, Yn.”

I glance up at him, throat too full to make any noise. A third set of hands– Azriels, so experienced and commanding, settled on my breasts, plucking and pulling. I could feel everything and nothing at the same time. My entire body was numb with pleasure, numb with exploration of the three of them.

Azriel. Xaden. Cassian. All three of them, the most powerful warriors of their respective worlds, all focused on one thing. One goal.

Me.

Cassian picked up his pace, the thrusts less deep, but far more firm. It was clear he was chasing his high, thick veins beginning to bulge in his arms… up his chest… in the column of his throat.

“She does such a good job at taking it,” Cassian praises. “Doesn’t gag, doesn’t complain. Look at all those pretty tears. All for me, darling? Do I fuck you so good you need to cry? It’s okay, I’ll lick them clean. Then make them spill down your neck again when I get to fuck your pussy.”

My heart thrashed in my chest, thighs shaking with the force of Xaden’s tongue against my core. I writhed my hips, breathing harshly through my nose every other thrust because that’s all Cass would allow. At some point Azriel’s hands left the mix. I couldn’t see him anywhere, but his presence remained. Those shadows replacing his skilled fingers.

My body was wound tight. I was already anticipating a fun night with just Azriel and Xaden. But now? With Cassian? A new fire had been set ablaze inside me. And it needed– no, demanded, to be let out. I tried to warn Xaden, I tried to ask for permission, but I couldn’t with Cassian’s grip on my head. I fiercely moaned, hips shaking so badly that Xaden had to lock me in place.

“You can let go,” Azriel commanded from somewhere behind me. I silently thanked him.

Like a crack of lightning, my release barreled through me. I came so hard my vision whited out, a faint ringing bounding between my ears. Moans of pure pleasure spilled out of me and right onto Cassian. The extra vibrations must’ve done wonders from him because his grip faltered, as well as his pace. His head slumped forward and his eyes rolled shut.

“Fuuuuck, whatever you’re doing to her, Riorson, you better not fucking stop. Keep her moaning like that. Fuck I’m gonna cum so hard. Want it, pretty pet? Want my cum down your throat, filling your belly?”

He released my head, bidding me to give a verbal answer. After what Xaden just did to me, I’m not sure that’s physically possible. “P-Please, sir” I sigh out, my voice in an atrocious state already. “Wanna make you feel so so good.”

The use of ‘sir’ must’ve really done something to him. He sat up, a corrupt, unforgiving smile creeping onto his cruel lips. “Sir? That’s a dangerous game, my darling.”

“She doesn’t mind a little bit of danger, does she?” Azriel grips my hair again, pulling my head back so I have to look up at him. I nod carefully, the strain in my neck almost too much. “Yes she does. Now get to it, I'm getting impatient.”

Bad things happen when Azriel is left uncared for. And who was I to make him suffer?

I stuck out my tongue, a silent beg for Cassian to slip back in. He did without further coercion. The first time my nose brushed the soft hair on his pelvis, I could’ve sworn it was an accident. The second time, I realized it wasn’t. I couldn’t breathe, a small panic settling in every crevice of my body. I tried to keep calm, but between a relentless Xaden under me and a ruthless Cassian in front, it was near impossible.

“F-Fuck fuck fuck fuuuucccckkkk,” Cassian shouted, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen flexing. “Gonna take it all? It’s gonna be a lot, can you handle it, darling? Yeah I think you can. I’ll make you either way. Stay niiiiice and still for me- oh fuck-”

At the last second, he pulls me off about an inch and the humid, sweat filled scent of air floods into my nose. I drink his release down. It’s thick and warm, salty and abundant. I hum around him as I swallow and swallow and swallow. My eyes fill with tears yet again and they escape down my cheeks.

Cassian shudders. With gentle laps of my tongue, I clean him up. He watches me attentively. I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips when our eyes meet.

“You…” he breathes heavily, chest swelling and falling. “You are a little devil, aren’t you?”

The Illyrians hand wraps around my throat and he pulls me to my feet, and off of Xaden. The way our tongues met could’ve moved mountains. He was not shy in showing how much he wanted me. I melted into him, straddling his thigh and letting my arms drop to my sides.

Azriel played with my hair, hands caressing my ass. Together, they brought me down, content to let me relax for a few minutes.

“You did so well, pet,” Azriel cooed, dragging his tongue over the shell of my ear.

“So fucking good,” Cassian murmured against my lips. “Such a good little girl.”

I could hear Xaden climb to his feet, the sound of his hand stroking his cock loud in the otherwise quiet room. “I will never, ever, get tired of making her cum on my tongue.”

“Should I have a taste?” Cassian asked, placing small bites on my throat.

“I actually had something else in mind,” I sighed out, getting lost in all the hands and tongues. He gave me a curious look, but I just smirked, easing onto shaking legs and turning around so my ass was in Cassian’s lap. “I want to play a game.”

“A game?” There is an obvious hint of danger in Cassian’s voice? “What kind of game?”

“I want you and Xaden to fuck me, and I want Azriel to tell you when to move and when to stop.”

I haven’t yet brought it up to Azriel and Xaden, but I’ve always wanted to do this. A game of red light green light. To give full control and power to him, making us work for our pleasure. I look at Azriel, gauging his response, but he just grabs my chin, bringing our faces level.

“Yeah? You wanna play a game? Want to be treated like a literal pet? Taking commands and performing tricks?” His voice is thick with desire, so low only we could hear it.

My heart skips a beat. I hadn’t thought about it like that before. But the idea is… it’s-

“Look at her face, Cass,” Xaden tilts his head mockingly. “She wants it so bad, don’t you, pretty girl? Would you like a collar, that way if you get lost they know who you fucking belong to? Gods she’s so red. Don’t be embarrassed, pet. We know just how much you love being fucked full of cock and cum.”

“Sit on his dick, Yn,” Azriel orders. “Now.”

Silently, I hover over his lap, letting Cassian guide my hips. At the first press of his tip, I gasp. A new thrill thrummed through me.

Azriel comes and stands in front of me, cupping my cheeks. “I know he’s big, but you’re gonna take all of him. And you’re going to like it because you asked for it. So, here’s your first trick. Sit.”

The Shadowsinger pushes on my shoulders, leaving no option but to take Cassian all the way. All. The. Way. My breath is lodged in my chest with no room to escape. I can’t think. Can’t hear. Can’t see. Can’t even begin to process what is about to happen.

“Oh, good girl Yn,” Xaden praises, still stroking himself. “Look at how pretty she looks, Az.”

Cassian grunts behind me, hooking my legs over his knees so the others can see him buried inside me. I cry out at the shift, feeling him go deeper and deeper. Gods, he feels like he’s everywhere.

“Cassian, why don’t you play with her nipples,” Azriel instructs, walking back and forth in front of us. “Xaden, give her something to suck on.”

“With pleasure,” Xaden grins, those onyx eyes narrowing on my mouth. I go to protests, but then I realize just how hard he is. How flushed his skin is. And I need to taste it, to relieve him of his torture.

He traces my lips with the tip, coating them in his slick. With a heady pant, I stick out my tongue to invite him in.

A hand cracks down on my thigh. I scream out, more in shock than in actual pain. Azriel’s hand was the culprit.

“Did I say you were allowed to taste it yet?” His eyes are swirling with lethality. I bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something stupid. “Well?”

“N-No,” I say meekly. “I’m sorry. May I taste it, Az? Can I please taste Xaden?”

After a minute of letting the question hang in the air, building suspense, he nods. Greedily, I take Xadens hips and bring his cock towards my mouth.

It’s such a glorious sound to hear when Xaden curses low. A deep rumble in his chest letting me know this is exactly what he needed. Without moving– fearful I’ll get another smack– I look at Az, awaiting my next instruction.

“Fuck her throat, Xaden,” Az says, eyes scanning out bodies. “Start fucking her nice and slow Cassian. Really savor her, make her moan just like Xaden did for you.”

At the same time, both of their bodies start sliding in and out of me. They find a rhythm instantly: Cassian fucks me forward onto Xaden, and Xaden fucks me back onto Cassian. It’s easy enough to let them do all the work, my bones and liquid at this point anyway. All I know is pain, pleasure, and unfiltered need for these males.

I moan deeply as Cassian hits that spot inside me. Xadens hip stutter, his head tipping back as Cassian hits it over and over again.

“Does that feel good, Xaden?” Azriel asks, gripping his hair at the root, whispering right in his ear. “To have our girls' mouths all around you?”

The dragon rider nods as best he can with Azriel’s grip. “Fuck yes.”

“Make her stop.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I told you to. Yn, stop,” Azriel demands. I instantly pull my mouth away from Xaden, even if it makes me want to scream and thrash and beg for it back. I need it, need to taste it, need to feel him cum down my throat. “See, she listens to me. Do I need to punish you too?”

“No,” Xaden shakes his head. “I’ll listen.”

“Yes you will.” Azriel gives a fake smile. “On your knees.”

Xaden sinks to his knees.

“Suck on Yn’s clit. Make her cum on Cassian’s cock.”

The sight of Xaden, on his knees, cock leaking continuously, does something to me. It gives me ideas for later. He helps push open my legs, even when the first brush of his tongue makes me see stars. Cassian has to wind his arms around mine to keep me from sliding off. I know he’s strong, but to be able to hold me still and keep fucking me is…

“Good boy, Xaden,” Azriel praises, brushing his hair away from his face. “Just like that, make our pretty girl cum.”

It’s not going to take long. His laps are so soft, so gentle, and it works far faster than I’d like to admit.

“Az- Az can I cum?” I ask, just to be cautious. I do not want to have this taken away from me. I can’t have it taken away from me.

“Yes, pet. Cum as much as you want.”

It’s like music to my ears. It’s building and building. In my core, at the base of my spine. Behind my eyelids. It’s fucking everywhere. My vision goes white and an embarrassing noise tears from my soul. I writhe on Cassian, driving him further and further inside me. Sweat is dripping off me in buckets. Fuck it is so fucking hot in here.

“Very good Xaden,” Azriel says. “What a good boy, making our pet cum so well. You can stuff your cock back down her throat. She looked so sad to see it go. Go ahead and cum, fill her up nice and full. Cassian, get up.”

Suddenly I’m on my feet being steadied by several pairs of hands. The way Cassian is looking at me, the way he’s breathing, tells me I’m in trouble. The glances passed between Az and Cass worry me. The next thing I know I’m on my knees and elbows, ass up in the air.

“Sit on the floor, Xaden,” Azriel commands. “Right in front of Yn. Yup, there you go, now just let Cassian fuck her onto you.”

A shudder runs through my entire body when Cassian slips back in. I swiftly take Xaden down, mainly because if I don’t I’m going to go crazy. The delicious, sweet taste of him fills me once again and I hum in content.

“Don’t hold back Cassian, chase exactly what you want. Fill up her pussy as much as you want, she can take it.”

“Fucking hell, Az. Are you trying to kill me?” Cassian chuckles, letting his motions pick up pace. Every snap of his body into mine sends waves of pleasure down my spine. It rolls through me and allows me to take even more of Xaden in my mouth. “I’ll never get over just how fucking tight she is.”

“Malek spare me…” Xaden curses. I get to watch Xaden fall apart and a new thrill fuels my motions. I lose all concept of time, I have no idea what is going on. All I know is Cass is fucking me like his life depends on it, and that Xaden is holding on for dear life.

I suck as hard as I can, pressing my tongue into the bottom side of his cock. I can’t pay attention to the most sensitive areas of him, mainly because Cassian if fucking me too hard to let me. Hopefully I can make him see stars anyway.

“F-Fuck Yn, I’m gonna cum,” he warns, knees falling open. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“Give it to her, Xaden,” Azriel kneels beside Xaden, hand trailing over the muscles in his chest.

I watch the muscles in his abdomen clench with every breath. He scrunches his eyes closed and I brace for him, letting his hips rut as fast as he wants. With a long, drawn out growl, Xaden releases down my throat. I do my best to swallow it all, but between the angle and Cassian's relentless thrusts, I let a few drops spill out.

Xaden is throbbing on my tongue, his sounds of pure pleasure fill my ears, filling me with deep satisfaction.

“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” Azriel rips me off of Xaden and takes his place. I’m hauled up onto my palms, Azriel’s cock bobbing in front of me. Before I can take it between my lips, Azriel bends down to my level, licking the droplets of Xadens cum off my lips.

I went as still as a statue. Tingles spread from the tips of my fingers to my toes. I watched him swallow, his Adam's-apple bobbing. I was at a loss for words. If he wanted me to speak, it’d be impossible.

Thankfully I didn’t have to. He filled my mouth, not wasting a second.

“Xaden, will you go grab those towels?” Azriel asked, hands trailing over my shoulders.

“When I can move,” he responded, making the Shadowsinger and the General laugh. I swore I could feel the rumble of his laughter through his cock.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Cassian warns, adjusting his grip on my hips.

“Wait.” Azriel urges, “Give me one minute.”

Cassian stills, and I whine in discontent. A second later, his hand smacks my ass, undoubtedly leaving an imprint of his hand. “Don’t complain, pet. Or you won’t get anything at all. You should be grateful to be stuffed full of our cocks. That’s no way to disrespect a guest.”

Azriel is unforgiving as he fucks my throat, his pace fast and hard. To be fair, he has been waiting a long while for his turn. It doesn’t take long for him to start showing signs of nearing his high. He grabs both sides of my sweat-soaked head, and I feel drops from his own body–and Cassians–land on me.

“Want my cum?” Azriel asks, pulling me off. “Want me to cum down your little throat, pet?”

“Yes yes yes,” I slur my words together. “Please gimme all of it, need all your cum. Wanna taste you so bad.”

“Yeah you fucking do,” Azriel’s grin is sinister. He knows exactly what to say to make me squirm. “Drink it all up, slut.”

When he finally gives me what I want, I don’t dare waste a drop. I leave no mess to clean up as he cums all the way down. There’s nothing I can do but swallow, swallow, swallow.

I begin to lose some consciousness, the heat and over exertion finally catching up to me. I feel Azriel slip out, praising me and telling me how good I did. I think I nod, but Cassian resumes his motion and I forget about everything. I can only focus on him pounding into my pussy, getting so deep I have to let out little noises every time he does.

“She’s so fucked out,” Xaden says from… somewhere.

“Yeah she is, she looks so good. Limp and used. So fucking hot, Yn,” Azriel agrees.

I moan in response. It’s about all I’m capable of at this point. And it feels so good. Everything they did to me, every thrust from Cassian feels like I’m floating. I close my eyes and let him finish me.

As Cassian lets go, I feel him pin my shoulders to the ground, ramming his hips as hard as he can into me, filling me up nice and tight full of his cum. There's a big stretch, and then an almost immediate release. His warm slick flows out from around him and down the inside of my thigh. Tears or exhaustion and pleasure streak down my cheeks and fall onto the wood floor of the sauna.

Eventually, I’m laid on my back. I can barely open my eyes, but I feel a tongue lapping between my legs. I try to inch away, but firm hands keep me from closing my legs. I whine.

“Ah ah,” I hear Cassian chide. “He’s just trying to clean you up. Be still. Here, drink this.”

A cup is pressed to my lips and I hungrily drink down. The salty, briny taste is washed from my tongue and my blurry vision begins to steady. I look down, seeing Xaden between my legs, his curly head soaked with sweat.

Cassian’s thumb brushes my cheek, collecting a small tear. “Aww, poor baby.” I watch as he licks it from his digit. It… gets me going faster than I’d like to admit. Then his tongue trails the length of my cheek. I shudder, letting out a tiny squeak. “Told you I’d lick them clean.”

“Alright that's enough, Xaden,” Azriel says from up above. “Let’s get her inside and cool off.”

“I just couldn’t help it, her pussy looked so good full of cum,” Xaden winks at me, and I can feel a flush of my cheeks and neck. “Even after all we’ve done together, I still make you blush.”

“Zip it,” I glared at him, failing to keep my smile at bay.

Cassian lifts me up, hugging me close to his chest. We’re all covered in sweat, but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to take a nice bath, curl up with my boys, and sleep into next week. A cold burst of air greets me as we step outside the sauna.

“Is she doing okay?” Azriel asks. I think it’s him that brushes hair away from my face.

“Mhm,” Cassian responds, giving my body a squeeze. “She's gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” Xaden added. “She always recovers really well. She’s not afraid to tell us what she needs. But by this point we know what she needs.”

“My only request is a bath.”

“See?” Xaden chuckles, then plants a kiss on my head. “Feeling okay? Not too lightheaded?”

I make a noise that sorta sounds like an ‘mhm’, but it kinda comes out as a garbled mess. All three of them give a laugh.

“That was… more fun than I thought it was going to me,” Cassian sighed contently, padding down the hallway to one of the bedrooms. I'm set gently on the bed, propped up against Cassian. I am way too tired to open my eyes, but my ears track them all around the room. I can smell the soft lavender wafting from the bathroom. Hallelujah.

“Yeah, I’m glad you joined,” Xaden agreed, his fingers beginning to braid sections of my hair. “We’re just waiting on the tub to fill up, pretty girl. Then we’ll get cleaned up and go to bed. You did such an amazing job, taking us all like that. And the game? We’re going to have some more fun with that, aren’t we?”

“Yes we are,” I nodded, peeking open my eyes to find them all huddled around me. Azriel smiles sweetly, cupping my face, stroking his thumb back and forth across my cheek. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he whispers. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I nod, clenching my hands to get some of the tingling to go away. “It was so hot in there.”

“We even turned down the heat before you got in there,” Xaden explained, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Did you have fun?”

“I always do, did you?” I asked, looking up at Cassian.

“In the beginning I was a little unsure but… now I’m hoping you’ll send word any time you wanna play again,” He grins, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were unbelievable.”

“Isn’t she something else?” Azriel looks at me fondly. “Baths ready, want to be by yourself or do you want one of us in there with you? Or… well, I guess we all can fit if that's what you want.”

“Well I’m certainly not going to wash my own hair,” I grin.

They all share a look, smiles creeping onto their mouths.

“I’ll get the shampoo,” Azriel winks.

“I call the conditioner,” Xaden stands, following Azriel into the bathroom.

I can’t help but laugh.

“Are they always like this?” Cassian watches as they root around in a cabinet, smelling the different bottles.

“Yes, they’re too kind to me.”

“I think it’s well earned,” he smiles, helping me stand. “Come on, let's go.”

I let him lead me in, making sure I get a good look at his ass. Damn. just… damn.

“I could ask Feyre to commission a painting, it’ll last longer,” he says cockily.

I give it a smack. With a helping hand from Azriel, I sink into the tub, and let the water cool off my skin. I lean back, wondering how I got so damn lucky.

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