#i was born in the heat and i still hate it

[angel-of-the-moons]

Desert Heat

Alpha!Cooper Howard x Fem!Omega!Reader

TW/CW: Smut, NSFW, Omegaverse AU, Chem usage, Chems, Heat cycles, Rough Sex, Sex-pollen, Dub-con, Dirty talk, Dacryphilia, Needy!Reader, Oral sex (m + f), Cumming untouched, Biting, Marking, Breeding kink, Knotting, Unprotected Sex, Creampie (Pack your RadAway, kids!)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Blame @hydraliskisk for this one lmaoooo (And no, I still haven't seen the show... I can't find the time to sit down and relax enough to do it at home) Honestly? No idea what else to say, except I've never written Omegaverse stuff before this, so it was all new to me! This felt like a fever dream 😭 Enjoy this dumpster fire!

Taglist: @anna-n-hetfield

Cooper found himself grinding his teeth yet again, for the millionth time that day as he rooted about the ruins of the little rural neighborhood. He was on edge; his puckered and scarred skin itching beneath the surface, like the bad come-down from a fucked up chem.

He had another argument with you, his "lovely" little traveling companion; the third in the past two days. You had been getting increasingly temperamental. He had to guess you were going through withdrawal; your favorite particular tin case of "Fixer" was empty, so he assumed your newfound testiness was a result of that situation.

But Jesus fucking Christ, you were a bitchy little Beta, weren't you? Certainly had bite when you got pissed off. It'd be cute, if you weren't such a thorn in his side, at the moment.

He kicked over an empty wooden box, frowning at the long-since spoiled jars of preserved fruits and vegetables, his jaw working itself hard with a rough click.

He hoped your search was more fruitful than his own; your supplies were on the iffy side in terms of food and he knew that as a ghoul, he didn't need to eat as often as you did anymore. But you were still smooth and (as far as he knew) un-mutated, so all of your biological needs still needed to be tended to.

It was an irritating hassle, but he couldn't deny how scrappy and useful you were in terms of scavenging and watching his back so he could get sleep when he wanted it--thankful you were also a crack shot thanks to being born out here in the wastes.

Once again, his gloved hand scratched at his neck as he moved on to another house, ready to search for food, water, and Chems, if need be, too. Some Rad-X and RadAway were worth more than water to him, at this point...

You hated this.

Hate, hate, absolutely, unequivocally despised the situation you'd accidentally backed yourself into. You were hoping to keep your secret for as long as possible; but during your travels monitoring your Fixer stash had been almost an afterthought. You took one to one-and-a-half daily, carefully stretching your stash for as long as possible.

You knew your one-month pause in your doses was coming, and you were hoping to get away from Cooper long enough to take care of your problems on your own; but that wasn't feasible given how far out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere you found yourselves in.

You had resisted the urge to hunker down as long as possible... But your instincts were firing on full-blast.

Your heat suppressants had worn off. And Cooper, unfortunately... Well. He was the only Alpha nearby, and you knew he'd figure it out at some point. You just didn't want him to find out so soon; all because of your shitty planning.

Your feet dragged through the rotting aisles of the small general store, barely paying attention and swiping whatever looked good enough to take into your satchel, some dented cans of unopened cram, a few preserved boxes of stale snack cakes...

You were so out of it, you hadn't even noticed how your hands had begun unwrapping the sweet morsels and eating through the meager rations you'd scrounged up. After swallowing the last cake you had unwrapped, you stuffed them into your bag and willed yourself to stop focusing on them and drank greedily from your canteen.

Fuck. You were already stuffing yourself. You knew what would inevitably come next...

You swallowed hard and returned to your task of scavenging; managing to find a box of .38 rounds, some cans of emergency ration water, and even a small stash of caps that you pocketed to divide later, when you were more in your right mind.

Your eyes, however, lit up when you spotted a cluster of prickly pear growing beneath a blown-out window, the fruit running in mixes ranging from green to mauve to a deep, almost bloody-purple shade. Perfect.

You slipped on your rawhide gloves to protect yourself from the thorns and glochids sticking out so menacingly from the skin of the fruit. As you twisted and plucked each treat from the source, you set each one down in a cracked ceramic bowl lying nearby. You'd need to run them over a flame to burn off the microscopic needles before you could skin and eat them; but right now you were only partially thinking about that.

A shimmer caught your eye, a flower growing at the base of the cactus. The petals were vibrant pink. It almost looked like a Venus flytrap, in the way the spindly, velvety tendrils opened and closed, the stalk expanding in a way that made you think the plant was almost breathing.

You tilted your head, your pre-heat daze almost forgotten as your attention was grabbed by this mutated, alien-looking plant. Despite everything else, even in regards to the thriving cactus it sprouted at the feet from... it was a bright and vibrant green as well, happily nourished in the dry earth within the ruined building. The bright splash of color mixed with the undulating petals were transfixing to your addled state.

Forgetting caution above all else, your fingers began to clasp around the stalk of one of the flowers to pluck it, to examine it closer. But as you did that, the flower had lurched in a way that looked like it was about to vomit.

You fell back onto your butt as it spat out a shimmery cloud of pollen into your face. It burned and tickled your nose as you inhaled, waving your hand in front of your face frantically to clear the air, sputtering and coughing around the choking dust as you wiped your eyes and face, looking at the thin chalky substance that was transferred onto your glove.

And, within the span of a few moments... it was like everything else just... didn't matter. Your goals of scavenging were tossed out of your mental window, your body's reaction like a wildfire in dry brush.

Your brain was buzzing, your instincts overriding your common sense as you stand up and walk away from the bowl of fruit. You raipped off your bag your bag and only half paid attention to the sound of the tin cans clattering and ammo tinkling as it spilled out, the weight of the leather strap had rapidly been becoming more and more uncomfortable, your clothes beginning to feel like sandpaper on your skin.

A bead of sweat trickled down between your shoulder blades, and you shuddered. Your eyes looked around almost frantically. You needed somewhere safe, your instincts screamed mercilessly.

And, by the grace of whatever kind of omniscient being that was up in the sky, you found a basement.

It looked like whoever owned the store had refitted it into some kind of shelter. Or, hell, maybe it was used by some scavver before you had traipsed along. Whatever it had been used for, you didn't care, it was yours now.

It had a bed, a couch, some more supplies half-assedly stacked on a rickety table... your eyes adjusted to the dark, the only source of light you had was the light bleeding from the open basement door, and the faintly glowing mushrooms that sprouted from the basement walls in thick clumps.

The logical part of your brain identified the fungi; you could use them to make RadAway with the supplies you had on hand. Another part of your logic had told you something crucial--that plant; whatevert it was, had spat out a cloud of pollen that had all but skipped your pre-heat, only just barely leaving your basic instincts to nest, and the overwhelming craving to be pinned down to the nearest surface and fucked until you were round with somebody's pups.

The rest of your mind was spiraling so quickly you felt like you were drunk; cramps rippling through your lower half impeded your progress as you ripped the threadbare blankets and cushions off of the couch, piling them on top of the mattress you'd tossed to the floor from the rusted metal frame it had been laid on, pushing them up into a corner that felt the most secure and least exposed, trying to make it as comfortable as possible.

Your clothes had become drenched with your sweat, the crotch of your pants and underwear all but ruined by your excess slick. You growled and grunted as you tugged them off, kicking the offending garments away and sighing in relief at the cool, damp air hitting your hot skin.

Another shudder rippled through you as you felt another wave of cramps hit your abdomen; your pussy fluttering with needy want, making you whine loudly as you pant, crawling back up the stairs to slap the door closed.

You needed to ride this out. Somehow.

The next few days were going to be hell.

Cooper clicked his tongue, spitting out the dry reed he'd begun chewing on as his boots kicked up dust, the rusty spurs tinkling with every step as he made his way to the last place you could possibly be--the ruined general store.

He had to admit, this little place would make a good settlement. He couldn't help but wonder why it hadn't been settled. The river that had--by a chance of dumb luck--kept flowing had allowed the land to grow a steady clump of greens and browns. Cacti and Joshua trees littered the area, more than a few large agave plants had overgrown the smaller walkways; their prickly limbs reaching out like the epicenter of a pale green explosion.

He chuckled at his mental comparisons. Ironic.

But he pushed that thought to the side; he had observed a small flower of some kind. A pair of lizards he'd planned to catch and eat had skittered up to it, drawn by the lure of fat insects buzzing around the flower for a nice meal for themselves.

He watched as one of the little critters had crept closer, preparing to lash its tongue out to snag one of the fat, fluttering bugs. But as it did, the flower lurched, belching a cloud of pollen at it that made the lizard hiss; thrashing briefly in the sand as its companion crawled over to examine its friend.

The male--oh, he was certain it was a male--lifted its head after a moment, the throat sack beneath his throat puffed up, turning a bright shade of red. A mating display, he realized.

Cooper had watched with slight interest; remembering, once-upon-a-time, of a nature documentary he'd watched with his daughter, Janey, of desert lizards. This sort of thing was the closest form of entertainment he had during his traveling, reminding him with a dull throb of nostalgia and grief at the life he had lost, before.

His thoughts were pulled back to the now, as he watched the male lizard chase his female companion around, until he assumed, he tackled her beneath a rocky crag somewhere to mate with her. He'd snorted, reminding himself to steer clear of those flowers.

Getting hot and horny could be a death sentence, out in the wasteland. You could be so caught up in the moment, you could get snuck up on and offed in the middle of the night; your supplies picked from your carcass by who-knows-who...

And he wasn't looking to have his card punched with his cock in hand. That just wasn't a good way to go out.

Cooper's dark eyes lifted up, clicking his tongue at the lilted sign of the shop, stepping over the bleached wood of the door that had long since rotted off its hinges.

The setting sun had put a damper in his plans. He'd wanted to find you and get out of the proverbial ghost town before the darkness had set in. Something about these old buildings had him uncomfortable.

His gloved finger snagged the collar of his faded shirt, tugging on it as he hissed out a heavy sigh. Why was it so fuckin' hot in here? The fuck smelled so... sweet?

His finger pulled the hammer back and his thumb flicked the cylinder release as he crept along the rotting shelves. He'd called out your name once. Upon receiving no answer, his brow furrowed.

"Darlin', now ain't the time to be playing in the dark." Cooper growled, his eyes scanning the shop for any signs of you.

In the setting sunlight, his eyes caught the glimmer of one of your buckles of your satchel. He quickly rushed over to where it had been tossed--maybe in some kind of tussle--and frowned. It was full of freshly scavenged supplies. Guns, ammo... your favorite chem tin.

As his eyes gave a passing scan to your empty tin, his gaze lifted to the cactus you'd been harvesting, the bowl of fruit laying untouched since you'd picked it.

What remained of his nose twitched; your scent was everywhere, tainted with the strangling-sweet smell clinging to the dust in the air. He couldn't pick up anybody else's around, so that ruled out you getting into a fight. So the question remained the same--where were you?

He holstered his pistol when he examined the cactus closer, frowning as the strange plant from before twitched and swayed on its own, lurching and grabbing flies that got too close to the petals of the flower. Cooper grunted, looking down to the dented metal tin still clutched in his hand.

His heart had almost skipped out of his chest as he finally bothered to examine the writing scrawled on the tin in proper detail; among your little scratches and scribbles was the name of the chem it contained.

It wasn't just regular Fixer. It was Heat-Fixer. A common variation of the chem that had been used even before the Great War to ward off an Omega's heat cycles as long as they took it regularly and in safe doses. He remembered once, being in Anchorage and it was revealed that one of his comrades in his unit was an Omega; he explained what exactly the Fixer did to his team over a lull in combat one night.

And you currently had an empty tin.

An empty tin of heat-supressants, coupled with the strange pollen of that flower... it wasn't a good combination for an Omega to be caught out in the middle of nowhere while in heat, not when someone could so easily stumble upon you and take advantage of your crazed and sex-hungry state.

No wonder you had been so snappy and irritable. No wonder you had been so anxious and ready to go to the next town, to hunker down there for a few days. He had assumed you were just being spoiled, wanting to pamper yourself somehow from the tough life on the road.

Now, he realized, you had been hoping to shut yourself in somewhere, to hide the mutated elephant you tried to smuggle into the room. Oh, yeah... he'd have a long talk with you once all this was over with.

"Fuckin' hell, darlin'." He muttered, shaking his head, his jaw clenched tight as he tossed it back into your bag, slinging it over his bandolier as he continued his search for you.

Your scent had him almost dizzy, he had even stumbled over his own feet once or twice as he looked for you. He knew Omegas had some strong instincts; he knew from experience you were going to look for somewhere safe to ride this out, to try and take care of yourself.

But on the off-chance something else had happened to you... Cooper had inwardly cursed at himself for being so worried. You were sometimes a little naive, believing in the best of the worst of people that had been a part of your tribal-turned-civilized home where he'd found you.

You had been an outcast even among your own tribe, most likely smothering your Omega nature by sneaking off under the guise of "scavenging" during your heats and the suppressants you were taking to mask it all.

Aside from finding out you were an Omega, not a Beta like you'd claimed, Cooper had felt a bit of kinship with you in how you were ostracized for how you were, maybe even a bit towards your naive hope that the best in humanity could one day resurface despite everything around you staring you in the face and screaming otherwise...

His mouth had become dry and he swallowed hard, his tongue practically choking him. It felt like he had a wad of cotton in his mouth despite the saliva that had begun to accumulate. The identity of your scent had finally dawned on him. The familiar, comforting scent of something akin to an apple pie; something he hadn't had in a very, very long time. And the idea he might be able to taste it again had consumed a part of his brain.

Your pheromones had all but tainted the stale air inside the small structure; if he still had any hair, it would have been standing on end as each drag of air coated his lungs in everything that was you.

Fuck, you smelled delicious. Good enough to eat.

Cooper gritted his teeth once more, briefly reaching down to press his palm into the rather pressing erection that had become prominently bulged in his old worn trousers. His own Alpha instincts had stirred; they had been almost dormant for so long, he'd almost forgotten them.

But right now, every one of his senses had picked up you. A sweet, perfect little Omega, writhing somewhere on your own and waiting to be bred. He shuddered at his train of thought; reminding himself that he was looking for you to make sure you were okay... to... to make sure you were safe, and to--what was he thinking, again?

Fuck. Right. He was going to find you, and stand guard around wherever you'd nested up and just wait for it to pass. Lecture you when it was over.

But as he crept along the ruined store, he had to stop and slump against a wall, his eyes rolling at the smell permeating the air, your pheromones flooding his bloodstream like the sweetest chem he'd had in a long, long time.

Cooper had managed to drag one foot after the other to find the basement door. Your scent rolled from the wood like the smoke to a powerful fire. You were down there, alright.

And against his better judgement, Cooper twisted the rust old knob and took the first step down, pulling out his old--and by-miracle still functioning--wind-up flashlight, he flicked the switch and walked down, his eyes tracking the glowing fungi that lined bits of the basement walls with a bit of giddy euphoria.

"Cooper..." He'd heard you croak out.

He spun on his heels, the beam of his light eventually turning onto you.

His heart had jumped up into his throat as he took you in; your frantically-made nest, the barriers you'd built between you and the rest of the room... the bare, sweaty skin that glistened in the torchlight he held in his hand.

He shook his head as another wave of your pheromones blasted him full-force. Fuck. What the hell had he been thinking? Oh. Right. He hadn't been thinking. He let his dick do the walking and find you, like some sex-crazed punk Alpha just coming into his nature.

"Cooper." You said again, your pupils blown so wide he almost couldn't see the color of your irises as you looked at him with your hooded gaze, your lips looking all to plush and swollen as you licked at them.

"Darlin', you..." He swallowed hard, his hard cock already bordering on painful, sweat beginning to soak through his shirt beneath his leather duster as his breathing increased.

"Help me. Please." You whined, sitting up more as you crawled over the nest of blankets towards him as your tongue ran over your teeth, your hips swaggering with each movement; reminding him of the scene in a shitty porno magazine he read as a younger man.

"Need something--"

"Shit. No." Cooper hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as he regained a semblance of some control over himself once again; backing up to the stairs, ready to rush back up them and lock you down here until this was all over.

When the stairs creaked under the weight of his first step, you whined, halting any more movement from him.

"Please." You panted, little whimpers bubbling through from between each syllable as you spoke, "Need help... goin' nuts... need you... please."

Cooper had stupidly snuck a glance at you, standing on your knees and leaning forward slightly in the middle of the dusty floor, one hand roughly groping at your own breast and the other snaking between your legs to roll your clit in time with the lazy thrusts of your hips. It was the sexiest goddamn thing he'd seen in his fucking life; a fresh rush of arousal making his cock throb.

"Help me." You whined, your eyes watery and needy as your gazes locked in the darkened space.

His eyes rolled back into his head and Cooper growled, his chest tightening at how you whined once more in submission to him. His feet stomped across the room, and he set his light down on the table enough to illuminate some of the room; namely you.

"Needy little fuckin' Omega," Cooper had spat as he ripped off his excessive bulk. Your bags joined his on the table, the contents scattering across the surface as his bandolier was tossed on top of it all alongside his guns.

"You been thinkin' about getting fucked all day, haven't ya?" He sneered as he tugged his gloves off with his teeth, dropping them as he moved back towards you.

You leaned into his touch as one of his hands cupped your cheek, eyes fluttering closed as he used his other hand plucked the buttons on the collar of his shirt free; his dark eyes taking in your soaked and aroused state as your hand between your legs continued to furiously rub and pinch at yourself for any stimulation--to ease that growing ache in your cunt.

The rough and scarred pad of his thumb swept a desperate tear from your cheek as he spoke; "A needy little bitch in heat, ain'tcha? Fuck, what if it wasn't me that came lookin' for ya?" His hand went from gentle to rough, squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he forced you to look up to him, his lips curling up into a snarl. "Bet at this point you'd go and bend over for any wasteland fuck coming along to bury their cock in you, probably fuck some pups into ya."

Your mouth opened in a breathy little moan, your eyes almost fluttering closed once again as he continued. "Well, fuck that. I ain't letting no fucking scavver take what's mine, got it?"

Your eyes immediately went to his crotch when his free hand roughly worked free his belt buckle, ripping his button open and fly down to free his throbbing cock to you, your mouth watering and your pussy flooding at the premise of him just burying himself inside of you and staying there.

"Now, given all the trouble you've been causin' me... I'm tempted to not give you my cock, got it?" He huffed, looking down at you from the remnants of the bridge of his nose, a sick sense of pride swelling his ego at how your eyes grew wide and panicked; like you were a junkie denied their next fix, so gone in withdrawal you thought you were going to die.

Cooper laughed at you as tears gathered in your eyes at his threat, your pretty little lip wobbling. He could almost hear your heart pound in the sweet little chest of yours. He squished your cheeks once again to snap you out of it, groaning as his hand gripped the base of his cock. "But you've got me in a bit of a state, babydoll." He drawled. "So..."

He tapped the tip of his scarred and gnarled cock to your lips, and grunted when you immediately curled your tongue underneath the tip, sucking him past your plush lips with a loud and grateful moan.

"...you're gonna suck me reeeal good... and maybe, if you're a good girl, you'll get it all, got it?"

You moaned again as you took him deeper, your tongue curling around his shaft as your head moved further down his length, gagging around him as you try to take too much too quickly.

Cooper fisted your hair and yanked you back, his gravelly voice tumbling out of him as he looked down at you, a warning in his eyes. "Don't push yourself, cupcake. Take what you can. I'd hate for you to choke on my cock before I've had a chance to fuck you with it."

You nodded drunkenly, immediately moving to take him into the wet cavern of your mouth once again with loud slurping sounds as you bobbed your head, your fingers rolling your clit in time with the bob of your head and the cant of your hips. Cooper ran his fingers through your hair, petting you as he watches you return to your task with feverish need.

"That's it, babydoll... fuck. You been thinkin' about this for some time, huh? Havin' somebody let you take their cock in your mouth?" He laughed, his voice going tight as you moaned in reply.

"Shit--that's it! Fuck..."

Cooper's heart was pounding in his chest as he feels your tongue swirl the tip of his cock. It had been too damn long since he'd had a good fuck; and you were proving to be a goddamn amazing one, so far, if your tongue skills were anything to go by. His hands gripped the back of your head and he started to arch his back, fucking his cock into your mouth with a loud, pleasured sigh. He wasn't going to last long, and he had disregarded his earlier warnings of taking it too quickly as the haze of his building orgasm began to swell as he began to use your mouth for his own pleasure. Not that you minded.

The moment he felt his cock twitch, he grunted, his eyes rolling back.

"Shit, darlin'... get ready."

You whined around his cock, your cunt gushing around your fingers as you plunged them inside, your lashes brushing your cheeks as you eagerly try to taste every drop he was willing to give you.

The first splash on your tongue had you a moaning mess, arousal burning low in your belly and a bubble that had been swelling was ready to burst. Cooper yanked you back by the hair again and gripped his cock, jerking furiously as each hot volley of thick cum coated your face, splashing on your tongue as it lolled out of your mouth; dripping down your chin and onto your breasts.

Cooper chuckled grimly, "Well... that's one way to mark that prettly lil' body of yours."

He quickly swiped his cum off of your face, earning a complaining whine from you until he crammed his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck them clean; tasting him mixed with the dirt, grime, and gunpowder that clung to his skin. His eyes flashed dangerously as he watched you spasm slightly, eyes rolling back; his taste, the sensations he was pushing on your and the sheer forcefulness of his actions making you climax as you moaned around his hand that was all but choking you.

"Look't you. So fuckin' cockdrunk you can't even fuckin' talk." He mocked playfully, pulling his fingers from your lips with a loud pop.

Cooper kneeled down in front of you and grinned, his teeth flashing that signature smile of his as he practically lunged for you; hoisting you over his shoulder and slapping a palm over your ass, fingers dipping into your sweet cunt to toy with the juices that dribbled down your thighs, making you moan obscenely.

He dropped to his knees and rolled you down onto the nest you'd made in the corner, watching with his grin; twisting his scarred face in a look of aroused glee as you laid back and spread your legs for him, showcasing just how badly you needed him.

"Damn, darlin'... got yourself lookin' like a nice glazed snack, for me." He chuckled, beginning to shrug his shirt the rest of the way off, working his pants down his legs as he blindly kicked his shoes off in the dark. "Makes me wanna fuckin' eat ya right up..."

He tipped his head to the side, one of his hands grabbing his hat and tossing it off somewhere out of sight as he exposed more and more of himself to your hungry eyes. "Actually... that ain't a bad idea, heh."

Your hips rolled and you spread your puffy and swollen lips apart for him with a mewl as he lowered himself down onto his belly and elbows, looking up at you with a glimmer in his eyes.

"Now, I ain't gonna just give it to ya, sweetheart... you gotta tell me. Ask me nice."

"Please. Cooper. Please." You pant. "Please, please, please, please please--"

"Now, now..." Cooper warned, reaching up to slap his fingers onto your clit and watching your body jump at the contact. "That's not what I meant."

Your brows furrow down at him, swallowing the saliva that accumulated in your mouth as your brain tries to process what he meant through the red fog your mind was clouded with.

Finally, it clicks.

"Cooper, please..." You mewl loudly. "A-Alpha, please--"

The sound that comes from him makes your mind blank and your body shudder, going almost slack with relief as his lips closed around your weeping cunt, babbling "thank you's" and frantic, almost incoherent words as he gave you a taste of what you'd been craving.

You were veeeery happy it was Cooper that found you. Right now you couldn't imagine anyone else to have between your legs, drinking you down like you were his first taste of water after being stranded in the desert.

Cooper had laid there for... he didn't even know how long. Tasting you, edging you, biting and nipping your inner thighs, making you cum to the point you felt like you had gone blind had his chest swell with pride and... something else. More than just plain sexual attraction, more than the fact that you were and Omega accepting him as your Alpha right now...

He didn't focus on that too long, shoving those feelings to the back of his mind as he rose to his knees, yanking your quivering hips close to him, his cock slapping your belly as he stared down at you.

"Gonna fuck you now, darlin'. Give you every fuckin' inch of what you've been wanting." Cooper hissed, rolling his cock through your slick folds with a lazy thrust. Your hands reach out to grab at his arms, frantic and wanting as you nodded dumbly, mindlessly.

"Please, please--yes, yes, yes--"

"Easy, now." Cooper chuckled, his voice almost dropping into fondness as his hands gripped and squished your thighs. "Just lay back and let me fuck you like y'need, alright, baby?"

You keen lowly, dropping your head onto one of the pillows as you feel the tip of his cock notch at your waiting hole, your pussy clenching as he pushed in; his pace torturously slow as he sunk himself within your welcoming, tight and wet heat.

He tipped his head back with a pleasured sigh, his voice shaky, as he savored the ecstasy of your body; "Jesus fuck, you feel so damn good... fit me like a glove, sweetheart."

"Fuck me." You mewled, frantically grabbing at whatever bits of him you could to try and urge him on, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the back of his thighs as you try to encourage him deeper.

Cooper growled at you, leaning down to press his mouth to your ear; "You don't tell me what to fuckin' do. Right now, I'm gonna fuck you so full you're gonna feel like yer gonna pop. Got it? Don't get bossy on me, y'hear?"

You curled around him, clinging to him desperately. "Sorry. Sorry, sorry..." You cried softly. "J-Just n-need... Need you, please..."

"I was just teasin' ya, sweetheart..." Cooper sighed with a chuckle, pulling out halfway before sharply thrusting back in, your breasts jiggling as your body jerks with the effort of his thrust. "Don't be such a crybaby."

Your jaw snaps shut with a strangled moan, your teeth grinding as your body welcomes him eagerly, all the stress and anxiety of your heat melting away in the pleasure that Cooper was bullying into your cunt, sloppy, loud, lewd noises coming from between you as he plunged his cock in and out of you; his skin slapping against yours.

A small part of you right now was vaguely recalling your past heats. How you would scurry away when you couldn't make your Heat-Fixer on your own, or score any from passing caravans; how you would hide in your secret little cave and masturbate to thoughts of having someone just come and take the edge off for you, you just bend you over and fuck you until your mind didn't come back into logical focus for days after the fact--to fuck you so full you were certain "your" Alpha had bred you as your biological needs shouted that you needed.

Your nails dig into Cooper's back, scratching fresh masks into his pitted and wrinkled skin, the texture of his cock making your head spin even more as you breathed in his own pheromones; Cooper's scent had always comforted you. Somehow, the scent that was not unique in the world today felt unique to him, and only him. Gunpowder, petrichor, and sweet honey bourbon.

You didn't realize just how much you loved and craved to have his scent on you until now; a loud moan slithering out of you as he dragged his tongue up your throat, mouthing your swollen scent gland messily, making your hips stutter against his and your breath hitch into a small sob as his tongue laves over the soft flesh.

"Smell so fuckin' good." Cooper growls, his voice sending vibrations through your sensitive skin as he continues to rut his cock into you. The pitch of his tone makes you whimper in submission, rolling your head to the side to let him have better access as he licked and kissed your throat, moving from one side to the other.

"Fuck--" He panted, driving his hips into your again and again, the sweat on your body making it difficult to get a decent grip on your soft hips. Your scent was driving him insane; he was finding himself wanting to keep his face buried either at your throat or between your legs. If he wasn't so pressed to just fuck you, Cooper would have gladly stayed with his head buried between your legs until he got his fill of you.

However, now that he's had a taste of you, now that he's felt you squeezing and milking his dick for anything he was willing to give you... he wasn't sure he would ever get a fill. Your scent was goddamn maddening to him; it made him hungry in more ways than one. He never realized it before, but now that you were uninhibited by the Fixer, it hit him full-force. And just the mere thought of another Alpha putting their hands on you made him mad with... possession?

He swallowed back a mouthful of saliva, clenching his jaw as he panted hotly in your ear, "Feel so fuckin' good around my cock, babydoll."

You choked for air when you feel his knot almost catch, your orgasm dancing just out of reach; walls clenching around him every time you felt it press against your entrance.

"Please, please..." You begged, running your hand up his back, tracing every deep groove and bit of scarred flesh you could; mapping out every inch you could feel beneath your fingertips.

"N-Need..."

One of his arms was currently bracing himself next to your head, which his other hand pawed at your hip, gripping the sweaty, smooth skin so tight there would likely be bruises in the shape of his handprint that would be visible for days on.

His mouth once again hovered over your scent gland, and you pressed one of your hands to the back of his neck to urge you on; "Please..." You begged once more.

Cooper gave you a look out of the corner of his eye, and as you opened your mouth to plead with him once more, he sunk his teeth directly into your throat. Your moan was so loud, he could almost hear the rush of his blood beneath it as the coppery taste of your blood coated his tongue.

"Fuck!" You sob, grinding your hips against his, your spongy walls throbbing almost painfully as you finally feel him force his knot past that last barrier of resistance; feeling it swell and lock him in place, the sensation finally ripping a mind-numbing orgasm from you.

"Shit, darlin'..." Cooper moaned, breaking his lips from around your scent gland, rutting and grinding into you as much as he could, feeling the simmering heat of his own orgasm finally creeping near that precipice. "Squeezin' me so fuckin' good..."

He leaned back, grabbing your hips in his hands and pulling you against him, staring down at your sweaty and flushed face as your eyes rolled back, your hands clawing desperately at the mattress and ratty blankets beneath you, weakly lifting your hips to try to get him to keep moving.

"Needy little... fuckin'..." Cooper panted, feeling how hard your hot pussy was clenching around his knot. It felt like he was burning up from the inside out, like his blood was boiling inside his veins as his orgasm roiled and crashed through him; hips jerking against yours as his cock twitched, emptying every drop of cum he could fill you with into your waiting and desperate womb.

He ground his teeth as his eyes rolled back and he let the last bits of his climax ebb away.

Cooper let out a long, slow breath, poking down to where your bodies were locked together. Damn, that felt good. It was the best feeling he'd felt in... shit, a very long time. He sighed and pressed his hand down low on your belly, just barely able to feel the outline of himself through your soft skin, muscles and fat.

His gaze slowly slid up your sweaty and twitching body, to the fresh mark he'd left in your throat, and finally to your blissed-out, satisfied face. He knew this state for you was only temporary; once his knot went down, you would be climbing back on top of him for more, wanting to be fucked and bred again and again, despite the face he was 100% positive in the fact that ghouls didn't work like that anymore... But nonetheless you'd be wanting your Alpha to mark you and fuck you again and again until your heat passed you by.

He narrowed his eyes at his own line of thinking. He... wasn't really "your" Alpha now, was he? You were partners, and well, now...

Ah. Shit...

"You alive, darlin'?" Cooper chuckled, pushing aside his line of thinking, to try and focus on the moment instead of his stupid what-ifs.

"Mhmmm..." You answered with a purr, arching you back and stretching, wrapping your legs around his waist once again, opening your stormy eyes to peer up at him, your tongue swiping out at your bottom lip.

"Shit... Give me some time to pull out, you needy little bitch." He chastised with another soft laugh, reaching out to tweak your nipple in reprimand.

Cooper leaned over you, pressing his thumb over your clit, earning a soft whine from you.

"You're gonna be a good girl for me, ain't'cha, babydoll?" He sighed, looking as your face twisted in pleasured agony while he pinched and rolled your clit, feeling how your cunt fluttered around his cock. "C'mon... Answer your Alpha, sweetheart..."

Your eyelids dragged lazily open and you nod, almost jerking your head up and down as a small bit of drool pools at the corner of your swollen lips. "Yes, yes, yes... I'll be a good girl."

Cooper grinned wider, almost predatory in appearance, still tasting you on the tip of his tongue.

"Thaaaaat's right... Now... just lay back and let me take care of ya, babydoll. And once we're done, you 'n I are gonna have a long talk..."

#Cooper Howard #Cooper Howard x Reader #Cooper Howard x you #The ghoul #The ghoul x you #The ghoul x Reader #Omegaverse AU #Omegaverse #Fallout #Fallout on prime #Fallout prime #fallout tv show

[errorciphersystem]

I honestly don't know whether or not people outside my circle do this or not but when it gets too hot in my apartment I'll just sit in a cold shower. Like a COLD shower. I used to DESPISE cold showers, now I use them for comfort in the damn heat.

#too hot outside #too hot inside #too damn hot #heat #i hate the heat #i was born in the heat and i still hate it #im fucking puerto rican I should be fine #but no this damn heat is the end of me #ive had to put frozen veggies on my head to cool down before

[dilftaroooo]

Not sure if your requests are closes right now sorry if they are-

But you should do Yuji fucking fem!reader or eating her out and Sukuna switching with him in the middle of it 😊

nonnie im so happy to breath the same air as u

★tags: aged up characters + afab reader + she/her pronouns + spanking + oral (f. receiving) + fingering + implied piv sex (very brief tho) + praising + sukuna bashing yuji smdh.

Your beloved boyfriend always manages to find himself emerging in the sloppy heat that rests between your thighs. Salmon fields adorned with restless digits splay across the top of his head as he licks and laps at you desperately. It's good pussy for the soul and he would hate if he would've missed this opportunity to have you sing out his name while you involuntarily send pressure to the sides of his head with your rigid thighs.

Your chest heaves and ho's at the heavy mass of passion with each inconsistent breath you take--jagged whenever Yuji coos at your hard clit, telling her how he's obsessed with her and her owner before giving her a light peck.

"I want you to fuck me already, Yu." You croak impatiently, wiggling your hips to emphasize your desires but Yuji gives you a quick slap to the side of your ass and squeezes it right after.

"Not now, baby. Let me enjoy what's in front of me first. Can I get that?" He watches you under the rise of your pelvis. His words are soft and whispered in a tone he always uses with you whenever he wants to feel you clench. Honey-glazed globes look at the feast upon him amorously. Your previously shaven hairs start to grow into stubble as it retrieves itself back to its original state; wet and coated with your juices. He buries his nose further.

A moan was a good enough answer for your boyfriend and he keeps doing what he was born to do. You continue to plead for him as he eats you out. "I'm right here, lovely. Not going anywhere." He'd respond with each fervid call.

His sucks at your cunt arouses you tenfold once you feel yourself coming to that edge at the tippy top of a mountain as gusty winds roughly kiss at the apples of your cheeks and the lids of your closed eyes. It's easy to tell you're close as Yuji hums into wet folds causing you to rattle.

"Oh fuck, Yuji. Keep going, sweet boy. 'M gonna come soon..."

Your nails cautiously dig into his scalp, not enough to hurt him severely, and your legs wrap around bulging muscle for support of your incoming orgasm. His body glistens under the light of the living room and blesses you with each defined section of muscle to pop under dark shadows.

But the devil is a conniving bastard for your reach to climax was interrupted when you flinch at the harsh bite gnaw at your clit, sending you to scurry backward away from the abrupt pain but strong arms keep your legs in place to force you into more torture. Looking down, you noticed Yuji's canines were sharper than usual. His skin was tainted in elongated markings, ones Yuji had never worn. His nails were painted in a deep violet and you think to yourself, 'Yuji couldn't have possibly put that on so fast,'.

"That sappy shit was starting to churn my stomach. How about you do that whenever I'm not possessing you? I already get nauseous knowing I'm living inside a fucking idiot." His voice was deeper too.

"Y-You're Sukuna, right? Yuji told me about you." You've never seen eyes glaringly red like his--four of them. They all watch you with a look of interest paired with a cunning smirk.

"That's right, dollface. Very good. Glad you know of me already, so we can skip the greetings." He resumes his host's previous ministrations but turns it up a notch by adding a finger or two to your drooling pussy. He teases a glossy, purple tip along the quivering hole before pushing in deep. As soon as he learns you can perfectly take one, he puts the second one in. A grin remains still on his face when hearing your moans crescendo.

"My, my. You're already soaking my fingers, dove. Guess that brat is doing something properly for once. Slobbering all over the couch, fuck, can't remember the last time I've seen pussy like this." His index and middle fingers dance across the gushy ridges in you, he moves them in ways Yuji knows you love and that feature shocks you.

He gorges on your clit and eats your pussy out like it's his last meal on earth before being sentenced to death. Saliva runs down the length of your labia, bubbles forming along the way by his boisterous lapping. Your hips can't resist gyrating against his face, ruby red remains settled on your helpless figure as you revisit that same high as before. You bathe his fingers with cum til they prune and you're too overstimulated to feel sorry.

The couch dips and you're instantly turned around on your stomach, facing the decorative pillow you believed matched the aesthetic of your living room.

"Hey, what're you-"

"You said you wanted to get fucked remember? Your cunt is still drooling cus she's hungry. Didn't give her enough." The smacks he gave your ass were harder than Yuji's and that just goes to show how rough this curse really is but you writhed nonetheless.

He was gonna fuck you good. You already figured much as hands grip around the fat at your hips and his cock carefully grinds into you.

#itadori x reader #itadori smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #nonnies!

[envy-of-the-apple]

Dark!Naga!SatoSugu x reader x

Top of the Food Chain

I've always wanted to continue my naga!mha fic but considering i dont write for deku+co anymore, i decided to move my au a couple fandoms over:D 1.8k wc

Part two , Part three

(Warnings: animal deaths, blood, obsession, dark content, slight gun threat but not rlly, polyamory, gender ambigious!reader) 

Despite being here for nearly a week, you still don't think Satoru understood how delicate you are. 

He's overbearing, in that sense. Constantly poking and prodding and squeezing until your lungs give and you're forced to squeak. You can't blame him for not understanding. He's an animal, after all. Inhuman. Despite his skin and hair, the scales coating his tail give away just how different he is. He was probably born fighting, kicking, and screeching his way through the foliage, hunting, chewing, and biting. 

He's not like you when all you knew when you were younger was coddling and softness. You can see it in his scars, and bruises, and marks. 

Luckily, for you, Suguru had an inkling that you weren't made for sharp claws. 

It's not a fight, you can tell when they're fighting, it's more like a warning? A minor disagreement. Suguru hisses at the other naga, scrunching up his face, showing his teeth. Satoru is quick to respond, but a little more playful. Fortunately for you, the black-haired male seems to win the argument. Satoru's coils loosen around you. Air stops fighting its way to get into your lungs. 

You finally go lax in his hold. Satoru seems to enjoy that, dipping his head to bury his face into the base of his neck. The first few times he did that, you were afraid he was trying to bite off your jugular. Now, you think it's just another way he can soak up your body heat. 

Maybe you've been here for longer than a week. At this point, you couldn't really tell. Hope that you'd be found was starting to slowly fizzle away. The explosion had been massive. The ship had sunk in a matter of minutes. With a disaster that huge, you doubt anyone would still be looking for survivors. Especially on an uncharted island, where myth had turned into reality. 

 Satoru had been the one you'd woken up to. Washed ashore, barely conscious. You were half-certain he was planning on eating you with the way he held your leg, watching your muscles bend and turn. In his defense, he must have thought you were dead. Your shrill scream quickly convinced him otherwise. 

It was barely a fight. More or less, a pathetic kidnapping as he grabbed your body, slinging it over his shoulder. You've never remembered screaming and crying so loudly before, convinced you were about to be eaten. Suguru probably heard you before he saw you. 

Satoru's mate was a little less impressed with you. Back then, they didn't bother learning your tongue, speaking in hisses and snarls, unaware of your misery. Suguru's frown was glued on his face, but the naga never let you run away, always keeping a hand or a tail on you at all times. It was a rough first day; you didn't know they weren't interested in eating you until they tried to feed you. 

Things were much different back then Nowadays, they are a lot more considerate of yourself and your soft body. You think you've come to an understanding with these strange creatures. 

Suguru was the nicest out of the two. In that, you mean the least rough. Compared to his counterpart, he's a bit smaller, but that's not saying there's any real difference. If it comes down to it, you are more than certain he'd be able to kill you off as quickly as his mate. You thought he hated you, at first. Now, you think he has a hard time showing blatant affection. His touches typically come in the dead of night, when you're barely conscious. A clawed finger gently raking over your soft skin. Large hands sculpting your face. 

Satoru's eyes were the first thing you noticed about him. Glittering like blue sapphires. You had a feeling they weren't just for show. Time and time again he's proven that he can see better than Suguru could. He smiles a lot more, but you're starting to wonder if that expression translates across species. He can speak your tongue slightly better than Suguru could. It most likely has to do with his insistence on staying with you. The more time you spend with him, the more you have to say 'No' 'Don't touch there' 'Stop'. 

In the rare times you manage to escape their hold, you like watching them interact with each other. They often sunbathe for hours, lazing around hot rocks to soak in the heat. They like touching each other. Sometimes it's aggressive, like when Satoru chomps on Suguru's neck and you're suddenly much more aware of how careful he is with you. Other times it's: soft, unintentional, meaningless. Languid cuddling when you are finally able to braid Suguru's hair. 

At this point, you've surmised they won't eat you. At least, not for the moment. You don't exactly know what they think of you. Do they have the concept of pets in their worldview? Maybe that's the closest thing you can place yourself as, at least in their eyes. They must think you're helpless. To them, you have no claws, no fangs, no venom. They probably don't know you come from a species that's hunted others to extinction and currently burning down the planet. You must be the first time they've ever seen your kind, stripped away from your weapons, when you're the least dangerous. 

"You should be more scared of me, you know," you once whispered to Suguru in the dead of night.

He was dozing off, blearily keeping his eyes open to stare at your moving lips. There was a grunt behind you, and Satoru tightened his arms across your waist. Greedy for affection, even in his sleep.

"Humans are terrifying," you said, reaching out to touch, "top of the food chain."

Suguru had smiled at that. You found yourself smiling back.

"You're lucky I didn't have a gun on me. You probably don't even know what that is." It's dark humor to press two fingers into his forehead. Your way of coping maybe.

Or perhaps your actions prove that humans will always desire to be violent, no matter how perilous their fight may be.

"Bang." He leans into your touch, unafraid. Oblivious to the threat that you are.

You're guessing Satoru only let you go because of the food Suguru brought.

You're able to feel the ground again as he glides over to Suguru having just come back from a successful hunt. The carcass of the largest deer you've ever seen is slung across his back. The smell of blood already makes you nauseous. 

You think Suguru had been the most panicked when you refused to eat, clicking and cooing while he tried to force-feed you the bloody leg of a bear. Back then, your communication was even worse than it was now. You were smeared in crimson by the time he relented. Practically dripping in it. 

Now, Suguru knows you have different tastes than them. You're not a big fan of raw. The fish and the handful of berries are more than enough to sate you as you gather the items he's given in your hands. 

"Thank you," you say. You reach out, touching his face with warm fingers. He purrs into your touch. You smile. It's the least gratitude you can give him. After all, he's not asking for much. If they hadn't found you, you would have been dead long ago, or at least, significantly less weaker. It's the least you can do. 

For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking they were your pets. It'd certainly be easy too. They have little to no regard for personal boundaries, much like dogs. They're more animalistic than they are human. 

It's funny to think of these monsters as lovable pets.

"Thank you," Suguru repeats. You giggle. It's not like they actually understand you. It's simple mimicry. Like talking to a parrot. 

"Thank you!" Satoru chirps, never one to be left out. He pushes his mate out of the way, eager for your pets as well. Suguru hisses, but doesn't argue. You've learned they like to be scratched right there on the bottoms of their chins. 

Suguru's less obvious, but Satoru has no desire to pretend. He melts into you, practically slumping his weight into your weak hold. It's a little adorable actually. You give a little laugh. He seems even more pleased at that. 

They're fun to be around, but this can't last. You belong with other humans, far far away from this island. So far, you hadn't seen any boats in the horizon, but you hope one would come by soon. A plane would be even better. Close enough to give you hope. Maybe if you built a big enough fire, it'd reach someone eye. 

Hopefully, in just a few weeks, these creatures will be a very cherished memory. 

You frown when Satoru reaches over to grasp at your food, the meat specifically. You glare, moving away from his hold. He titters in clear disappointment. You hate seeing him sad but you already have so few food sources. It's best to conserve whatever you get. 

"No," you pointedly tell him, "It's mine. Mine." 

His frown deepens, and he opens his jaws to let his fangs pop out. 

"Mine," you repeat. 

He leans back, huffing. You laugh because you know his expression is more out of frustration than any actual anger. Again, animals. You pet his head in apology, before turning away. You'd have to start a tiny fire to start cooking. Raw fish is edible, but it's hardly desirable. 

A hand grabs yours, clawed, the grip is tight around your frail skin. When you look back, Satoru is staring at you. Eyes wide. Eager. 

"Mine," he says, but it's more like he's testing the word. Tasting it on his lips. 

You scoff, unamused. "That's my arm. Not yours." 

Satoru smiles. Sharp teeth. You suddenly remember he's a carnivore. 

He's slow when he draws you in, practically dragging you into his arms. You're used to his spontaneous hugs, tight and suffocating. You can't fight him off, so you typically wait until Suguru has enough of his behavior and drags him off you. 

"Mine," Satoru repeats. Alarm bells ring in your head but it's easy to brush them off. It's mimicry. They can't understand. It's like talking to a parrot. 

You feel the weight of the other naga at your back. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing you against Satoru's chest. You stiffen when Suguru's fangs lightly graze up your neck. Never quite punctures, but is terrifyingly close.

"Mine," Suguru says into your skin. 

You laugh again, but it comes out less hesitant. More airy. Amid their hold, a sudden thought comes to you.

If you weren't at the top of the food chain anymore, then who was?

#yandere #dark content #yandere jjk #non con touching #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #dark gojo satoru #dark geto suguru #naga au #naga gojo satoru #naga geto suguru #animal death #language barriers #polygamous relationship #Top of the Food Chain #yandere satosugu #dark satosugu #naga satosugu

[etfrin]

The Reward — Coriolanus Snow ♡

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, mirror sex-ish if you squint, dub con if you squint, overstimulation if you squint, face riding, creampie, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), snow is his own warming, dom sub undertones, reader has ear piercings, degradation, hints of a toxic relationship, impact play (spanks your ass a few times), dumbfication if you squint, low-key soft! Snow in the beginning | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow! x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Coriolanus Snow gives you a reward by being gentle af and then by being a mean animal (kinda) dnsjsk🤭

⇢☾A/N: it's 3:00 am and i need to sleep, i thought about Snow taking off my heels after a gala and this was born <3

< arranged marriage m.list > < tag list > < masterlist >

Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman but he wasn't gentle. Perhaps this was an alternative universe, a fever dream but you couldn't believe what was happening right now in front of your eyes. Your pupils were in shock, your palms were sweating as you continued to take in the sight.

The sight of Snow being on his knees as he unclasps the belts of your uncomfortable heels. You swallow, “Coryo, you don't have to” but his head tilts up and his eyes are still his. Blue, cold, empty, and never ending like the ocean. A calmness washed over you, the look in his eyes proof enough that this was one of his many tricks to keep you satisfied and happy and you have to indulge him in it.

So you let him gently take off your shoes and set them aside. You await his further actions and let out a soft, small moan as his lips pressed to one of your knees. His mouth keeps pressing wet kisses up to your upper thigh, leaving behind a trail of his saliva on your skin.

This was a reward. Coriolanus was so proud of his pretty and smart wife today. You behaved accordingly in the gala tonight, letting him take the credit for your ideas. You understood your duties and that's why this is one of the few times Coryo will ever kneel for or be this gentle. It's a thank you he can't voice so he does it by his actions.

His lips find themselves kissing inside your inner thigh now, gently nipping the skin as you let out needy mewls. He could see the wet spot forming in your panties and felt the usual pride in his mind bloom. Only he could have you wet so easily and damn, if that didn't skyrocket his ego.

He kissed the wet spot, the juices now glistening onto his pink lips and he pulled back. You whimper as he does, and he wants to coo at you and tease you for being a greedy pet. But he doesn't, it's a reward after all.

He stood up and pressed a kiss to your forehead before his hand grabbed the box of make-up wipes. You still hadn't said a word, letting him do his thing. He gently wiped the makeup off your face, clearing you of the chemicals he hated but you had to apply them to stay in fashion.

His fingers then gently take off the earrings you had worn, and then one by one all the rings you had except the wedding ring of course. His touch had lingered during all of those actions, making your body heat up and your panties soaked. Soft sighs escape you as he continues to adore you in such a gentle manner. As if you're made of the most precious diamond but easily breakable without care.

That's what he might have thought of you. So damn important to his sanity but any action of yours can damn him to hell. A risk, a liability to everything he has. But in his mind, you're worth it all and he has done every single scenario where things can go wrong, so many sleepless nights dedicated to these thoughts.

Snow lands on top.

Nothing you can do can mess him up, nothing. He makes sure of it with his every living breath. It's the reason he can spoil you like this, be a deserving man to his wife otherwise Coriolanus Snow is a monster (and you know that and accept him anyway).

He unzips your dress, his lips now pressing a heated kiss to your nape as his fingertips trace your bare skin. His touch was cold as ice, the heat of your body cooling down to his touch. It gave you relief momentarily but it was clear that you wanted more. The whimper that left your mind as he unclasped your bra was enough proof of that.

With your breasts set free from their confines, Corio’s hands begin to knead your soft tits. His eyes look into the mirror as he watches himself message your soft breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples making the sensitive pebbles hard. He rolls the buds, playing with them until you moan, your body flushing with lust in your veins. You begin to rub your thighs, getting desperate for any sort of friction but you force yourself to stop as he tsks near your ear.

“Don't, doll,” he whispered as one of his hands began the journey of going down on your body, the heat of his palm onto your tummy and then so close to your clothed pussy. “Spread,” he commands and you follow without embarrassment or hesitation.

Your soaked panties come into your view through the mirror and you want to look away from the shyness you still had but didn't. Instead, a whine escapes your lips that makes Coriolanus chuckle. “Such a needy pet. I will take care of you, darling. No need to worry.”

You moan as he refers to you as darling for the first time. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing as your mind gets dizzy. There was something about how he had said it. Soft and warm, his voice dipping a bit lower as he pronounced the letters and it was tinged with a feeling he wouldn't associate himself with.

Love.

You whimper, “Please” and he hushes you as his fingers snap the band of your panties before he dips a single finger onto your wet folds. He smirks, his face looking into the mirror to gaze into your glazed eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered and you didn't bother to take offense, his words turning you on as much as his finger circling on your clit was.

A broken moan escapes as his fingers decide to pinch the sensitive nub, and he coats his fingers with your juices. A string of sticky white cream on his digits as he takes his hand out of your panties and places his covered fingers inside the wet carven of his mouth. He expertly sucks clean of his fingers, popping them out of his mouth with an obscene sound.

He smirks to himself as he relishes the taste of you. His. Just his you were. He leaves you there, alone on the chair as he walks to the bed. He wasn't wearing anything except for his pants. His suit and shirt were taken off earlier.

You waited for his further command as he got himself comfortable on the bed. “Come here,” he said and you listen. You take off your wet panties and let them stay ruined on the floor as you practically crawl to Coryo. You straddle him and wait some more.

He doesn't say anything, his face blank but his sky-blue eyes heated. His hands were on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there, making sure to grip you tight enough to mark you.

His tongue comes out to wet his rather dried lips. Your breath hitches as you see it and the sight of you being so affected by such a simple action made him feel like a. . . Lord.

He doesn't say anything, but did he need to? You knew him all too well, so you don't question yourself as you begin to move. The new position had you gripping the headboard while his hands shamelessly groped your ass, even occasionally giving small sharp slaps onto the flesh, making it red. It was simply another way of marking you.

Meanwhile, your eyes were closed, your mind forgetting about the existence of reality as his hot breath hit your glistening folds and made you quiver. “Go ahead,” he permits you.

Not even a second later, you begin to ride his face. He groans as his lips meet with your cunt. His tongue begins with broad, messy strokes of your pussy, gathering as much as your juices possible. All the while your eyes roll back and you moan. A sharp slap on the flesh of your ass has you grinding yourself onto his face. His nose nudged your sensitive, swollen clit perfectly as his tongue continued to swirl and flick around your cunt with calculated broad strokes that made you whine his name.

Soon his mouth finds your clit and begins to relentlessly suck your bundle of nerves. You cry out, pleading that this is too much and you can't- can't take it! But your begging was unheard and your pleas turned into louder moans, whimpers for pleas, and more. His sucking gets harsher and the overstimulation makes your mind reel. The warmth that was gathering in your lower body begins to spread all over, turning your bones to jelly and your mind to nothing as you cum onto his face. The rolls of your hips slowly as he continues to lap at all the cream released and your pussy keeps on spasming.

Your mind wanted more so you decided to take more. You had understood this was a reward for being good. So you can be a bit bad for now. So despite his grunt of displeasure as you get off his face, you quickly find yourself getting rid of his remaining clothes.

His cock was hard, the red tip angry and gleaming with pre-cum that coated most of his length. The sight had you salivating. Coryo knew you were nothing more than a cockdrunk slut and he called you that, you feel yourself glow from his words, not finding the word even a little bit degrading.

“I love you,” you mumbled as you lowered yourself onto his cock with a wanton moan echoing through the room. He groans, “Fuck yourself good, pet. You're in charge of your pleasure tonight. Go ahead, dove.”

“Yes, Coryo,” you whine as you feel yourself full of his cock. You felt yourself squeezing his thick length, a gasp escaping you as you tried to get used to his cock without being prepped. A groan could be heard as he felt his dick getting squeezed by your wet, tight cunt.

He wants to fuck into you and he almost does. But Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman and a gentleman kept his word. Especially when he can see his wife looking so fucking pretty being fucked out from his cock merely twitching inside her walls.

“Begin,” he demands, his voice haughty and filled with lust but you weren't ready. However, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You begin to rock your hips, slowly at first, you let yourself savor the action of his cock grinding against every hidden pleasure spot inside of your cunt. You moan as your pussy takes his cock deeper until his tip is pressed right against your g-spot making you see stars. You begin to grind back and forth so he keeps hitting that spot, you begin to sweat, your thighs clenching, and you couldn't keep focus as pleasure feels your every vein and his cock making you dumb. Simple actions seemed impossible to you and you wanted to beg him to take over, to make you cum again and again until you were broken.

He was unaware of your turmoil, his eyes onto the sight where his cock meets with your cunt, the combined fluid of his pre-cum and your slick dripping down onto his skin. The sight was filthy and he loved it. He clenched his jaw, trying so hard to be a patient gentleman to his wife.

He treated this like a test against himself because he knew what you did to his self-control. You aren't going to win this, he's not going to let go. He will not fuck into you like an animal, he refused to.

But was it losing when you were out of it like this? As if you were truly nothing but a dumb slut who just needs to cum. He decided that this wasn't a loss, but a win. He was doing you a favor when his hips began to snap upwards, his cock thrusting inside of you faster than the pace you had set. It was a pity that he felt so that's why he went back to his words. He was in control of your pleasure and he always will be. Self-control had nothing to do with it, he told himself.

You scream out in pleasure as several spanks are delivered onto your ass, turning the flesh red. It was clear that you liked the sting because of how tightly your pussy suffocated his dick after each slap. ‘Fucking whore of a wife’, he thought. He doesn't voice his thoughts but merely grins at the sight of tears filling your eyes. His dick twitched, an indication of being close.

However, he had to make you cum on his cock first. His hips begin to rut in faster into you, his hands holding you down as he thrusts in faster and harder. His dick kissing all of your hidden spots you didn't even know existed, his cock was perfect.

All you could do was take and take the reward he was giving you. Tears of satisfaction fell down your cheeks and it nourished his pride. You begin to ramble as you get closer to the edge. You ramble about how perfect he is, how much you love him, and fuck you can't think- you can't think. He is perfect, perfect, perfect.

Each of your praises makes him fuck you harder, deeper, a thrust so deep that his cockhead kissed your cervix making you gasp from a hint of pain and a hundredfold of pleasure. You begin to cum, and he shallowly thrusts into your cunt as you ride out your high. Your pussy spasms continuously around his cock as you cry out from being overwhelmed.

“That's a good girl,” he coos at you, “that's my girl.” You whine, your mind unable to process his words. You couldn't even sit up anymore, your body falling onto his. He wraps his arms around you, caging you to him. “My perfect wife,” he whispered as he continues to fuck into you despite your protests of being too much.

He doesn't listen to your pleas, his reward for you ultimately was his cum. Now he can't stop until he finds release himself, otherwise, how would you get your gift, right?

So he continues and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to fuck his thick, hot load into your womb. You whimper as his cock slips out and sighs in relief. You were in his arms and will be so for the rest of the night.

Coriolanus Snow wondered briefly if you liked your reward if not, well you have full access to his credit cards.

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[flickering-chandelier]

Will It Patch Your Broken Wings?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader 

Summary: Azriel is feeling insecure one night and cheats on Reader. She is absolutely devastated and wants nothing to do with him, but he is determined to show her how much he loves her. 

Inspired by the love triangle in Taylor Swift’s betty/august/cardigan

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: angst, cheating, swearing

Word Count: 6.3k

Betty, I know where it all went wrong

Your favorite song was playing

From the far side of the gym

I was nowhere to be found

I hate the crowds, you know that

Plus, I saw you dance with him

Azriel tucked his wing in tighter as you led him through Rita’s, your hand in his, a bounce in your step. You loved it here: the energy, the dancing, the music. 

Azriel, on the other hand, really only went along because he loved you.

The music was pounding in Azriel’s mind, overwhelming his senses. He could normally block it out and will his body to be loose enough to attempt to dance with you, but today had been a particularly long day in which he had to… secure information from some traitors. 

He didn’t let his memory go past that, not when he was with you. But it had been a day. A terrible day. 

You were dancing now, like you were born to do it, like you didn’t care at all who was watching. You turned to him, a bright smile lighting up your face, and he couldn’t help but soften at the sight, feeling comforted by your effortless radiance. 

He would never understand why you had chosen him. He was thankful of course, but he was willing to admit the two of you sometimes seemed like an unlikely pair. You were bright and bubbly, lighting up every room -- a direct juxtaposition to his shadows, his darkness, his tendency to be stoic and silent. 

Watching him stay completely still in the middle of the crowd, your face fell, and you sidled up to him, craning your neck to look him in the eyes as you got closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Are you okay? We can go home if you want.”

Azriel smiled faintly at you, dipping his head to give you a quick kiss. “Long day. You can dance. I’m going for a drink.”

You nodded, but still eyed him warily for a moment, gaze lingering on his swirling shadows, before turning back to the dance floor. 

By the time Azriel got his drink (the strongest they had), you were fully engrossed in a song that he realized was one of your favorites. He watched as you writhed on the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips, a bright smile on your face. 

A male came up to you then, taking your hand and twirling you under his arm. You laughed brightly before moving away from him, dancing on your own once again. 

Azriel couldn’t stop his heart from plummeting. That’s the kind of male she should be with, he thought. The kind that goes to a normal job and comes home without shadows or demons to chase away in his mind. The kind that can dance and twirl and laugh with you without a care in the world. 

He watched as you danced and danced, occasionally dancing with a random male for a moment before moving on.

She deserves better than you. She always has.

His breath was coming faster and faster now, the music pounding in his ears, through his skull, all that heat from so many bodies closing in on him. He had to get out, had to stretch his wings, had to get out.

Azriel shoved through the crowd and burst through the doors, out into the cool night, stretching out his wings and breathing deeply. He cursed himself. He was normally better than this, better at maintaining his emotions, his panic. By the Cauldron, he was the Night Court’s spymaster and he couldn’t handle an evening in a nightclub with his lover. 

Pathetic. That’s what he was.

“Are you okay?” a light, sing-songy voice broke through his rumbling thoughts.

He turned to see a very pretty High Fae woman. She was dressed a bit like Mor, he couldn’t help thinking, wearing a thin red dress that showed off all her assets, her light brown hair cascading down past her shoulders. 

She gave him a look that he hadn’t seen, or at least paid attention to, from a stranger in a very long time. 

He blinked. “Honestly? I don’t think so.”

Her lips slowly curved up into a sultry smile. “Anything I would be able to help you with?”

No. No, you cannot help me. I don't think anybody can.

She watched him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before she tilted her head for him to follow. 

And Mother save him, he did.

---

And I can see us twisted in bedsheets

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

'Cause you were never mine.

Your heart had been pounding, your body trembling, ever since you realized that Azriel was nowhere to be found. 

Something must have happened to him. It was the only explanation. He wouldn’t just leave you without a word. 

But, what could have possibly happened to the shadowsinger, in Velaris, of all places?

Your hand shook as you raised it to pound on the door of the river house.

Rhysand was the one who answered, shirtless, hair a mess. He looked very unhappy to see you. 

“I need you to find Azriel,” you nearly shouted before he could scold you.

He sobered immediately, noticing your distress. “What do you mean?”

You explained to him what had happened, that he had seemed off at Rita's, that he told you he was going to get a drink, then vanished. You had assumed that he had been lingering on the outskirts of the dance floor, and didn't notice for quite some time that he had left completely.

“I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation,” he said soothingly. “Did you check your apartment?”

You nodded. He wasn't there, at the home he shared with you. “And the townhouse.”

Rhysand's violet eyes were contemplative. Hesitating.

“Can't you just…feel for him or whatever?”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I can.”

“Then do it!”

Rhysand's eyes went unfocused after a beat, and when they widened again in surprise, you knew he had found him.

“What is it? Is he okay?”

“He's… at a random apartment. At least it's not one that I recognize.”

Your heart lurched. “What? Why?”

Rhys shrugged, his expression darkening. “Okay. Shit. Wait here, I'll go tell Feyre what's going on and take you to him.”

Rhysand came back a moment later, now in his normal black attire, and winnowed you in front of an apartment complex not far from Rita's. You had certainly never been here before. The silence was agony as you followed Rhys up the stairs, to the door.

He glanced back at you, a question in his eyes. You shook your head and he knocked, the sound rattling around in your skull.

You heard shuffling, giggling, and then.

Then.

A woman answered the door. A beautiful woman who was wearing Azriel's shirt.

A woman who was wearing your lover’s shirt and nothing else.

Your knees nearly buckled. You tasted bile in your mouth. You were going to be sick.

She cocked her head to the side. “Yes?”

Rhysand was deathly still, his power rippling from him, darkening the doorway. You remained behind him, but you had to know. Had to know for sure.

So you peeked around Rhysand's shoulder, further into the woman's apartment.

And saw Azriel, bare chested, lying in her bed, the sheets bunched up at his waist, his wings drooping on the ground, his hand tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You barely had time to spin around before you emptied your stomach in the hallway.

---

The worst thing that I ever did 

was what I did to you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Az?” Rhysand's voice boomed from the door the woman had just answered.

Hearing such a familiar voice in such an unfamiliar setting was initially what shocked Azriel enough that he nearly fell out of bed.

Then it hit him.

Rhysand was here. 

No no no no no no--

Azriel scrambled up out of the woman's bed, frantically searching for his pants and tugging them on. 

“I-”

“Don't answer that.” Rhysand spat, and it was then that Azriel realized Rhys was holding you upright as both of you lingered in the doorway.

His heart stopped working. His mind stopped working.

He said your name, but it came out more like a croak.

You were trembling in Rhysand's arms, tears sliding down your cheeks.

What had he done what had he done what had he done--

Azriel took a step forward, but you recoiled, and he knew you would've fallen to the ground if Rhysand hadn't been holding you.

You looked… afraid of him. Not just hurt, not just disgusted, but actually afraid.

He said your name again, his voice and his heart breaking, but you turned to Rhysand and said in the smallest voice he'd ever heard, “Get me away from him.”

Rhysand shot you one last withering glance before he winnowed out of sight, taking you with him.

It was silent for a moment, until the woman said, “If I'd known you were such an asshole, I never would have done this.”

Azriel sank to his knees and wept.

---

You drew stars around my scars

But now I'm bleeding.

Back at the river house, Feyre was holding you as your body continued to shake, silent tears continued to fall, while Rhysand paced back and forth, rage radiating off of him.

“Azriel?” Feyre asked, wide eyed. “Our Azriel?”

“He's certainly not mine anymore,” you sniffed, and Feyre winced, shooting you an apologetic glance, holding you a little tighter.

“I can't believe it,” Rhys said, still pacing in the spare room where they had set you up for the night. “I cannot believe him.”

There was a knock on the door of the house and you froze. You all knew who it was.

You looked at Rhys, your eyes pleading.

“I won't let him in,” he said, his expression softening as he turned to you. “I'll ward the fucking house against him if I have to,” he growled, mostly to himself, as he retreated to send him away.

You leaned further into Feyre, grateful for your friends.

For his friends, you realized. His family.

They were on your side now, but you knew where their allegiance would ultimately lie.

In losing Azriel, you would lose your family, too.

Sobs racked your body then, and Feyre held on tight, settling her cheek on the top of your head. 

You thought of all the walls Azriel had broken down around your heart, all the promises he had made about love and forever. All the broken pieces of you that you had let him see, that he had helped you heal.

But it was all a lie.

You couldn't stop seeing it -- the woman, naked except for his shirt; Azriel, naked in her bed.

You wept and wept until there was absolutely nothing left of you.

---

A friend to all is a friend to none

Chase two girls, lose the one.

Azriel had come to the river house twice a day for the past three days. 

Each time, Rhysand opened the door, molten hot rage in his eyes, and told him to leave, that you weren’t ready yet. Azriel couldn’t blame him.

He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make it better. To make you better. He could try to explain what he had been feeling that night, but it wouldn’t matter, not really. It was all excuses, and he knew it. 

Azriel had destroyed everything. And now he just had to watch as his world burned down. 

Letting out a shuddering sigh, he knocked on Rhysand’s door, expecting to see his pissed off brother again, but it was Feyre who appeared.

He had never seen his High Lady look so disappointed. He hated that it was directed at him. 

“How could you do it?” she said, crossing her arms, leaning against the doorway.

Azriel felt tears prickling his eyes, and willed them not to fall. “I never felt like I deserved her,” he said quietly. 

“Well you definitely don’t now.”

He winced. “I know. I just -- I want to see her. How is she?”

Feyre furrowed her brow, furious. “How is she? She hasn’t left her room since she got here. Elain’s been forcing water down her throat so she doesn’t shrivel up and die, that’s how she is.”

Azriel swallowed, trying to steady his shaking hands. He felt like he was drowning. He wished he would, if it meant that it would make you stop feeling like that. “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”

She studied him, her mouth a hard, thin line. Finally, she turned, heading inside and he followed her, his knees wobbling. 

When they made it to your door, she knocked softly, saying through the door, “He’s here.”

Azriel held his breath until the door opened, slowly. 

And when he saw you, he couldn’t breathe. You looked… devastating. Your eyes were red and swollen, you were pale, your hair was a mess. 

It was his fault. He had done this to you. He felt sick.

Your eyes were hollow when you looked at him, like you didn’t feel anything at all. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Feyre asked you quietly.

You shook your head, your eyes darting away from Azriel. Feyre shot him a warning glare before she reluctantly went down the hallway. 

You turned, moving to sit on the bed that looked like it hadn’t been made in days, every movement you made looking wary, exhausted. Destroyed. Your eyes were fixed on your hands in your lap, unwilling to look at him. 

Azriel lingered just inside the room, feeling uncomfortable in his skin. He longed to hold you in his arms, to kiss your pain away. 

He said your name, willing you to look at him. You flinched. 

It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I am so, so sorry,” he rasped.

You shook your head, not looking up. “How could you do this, Az? How could you do this to me?” Your voice cracked when you said his name. 

Tears started to fall down his own cheeks as he said, “I… don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I saw you dancing with those males, looking so carefree, and I didn’t feel like I fit into that part of your life. I’ve always felt like you deserved someone better than me, someone… easier.”

Finally, you looked up at him, and he wished you hadn’t. Your eyes were full of fury. And hurt. He had never seen you like that before. “You cheated on me because I danced with some guys for two seconds?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Azriel tried. 

“You think I wanted somebody like them? Somebody easier?”

Azriel opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I thought--”

“I wanted you,” you spat, and he recoiled at the hurt in your voice, at the pain in your eyes that he had put there. “All I ever wanted was you.”

He couldn't breathe. His voice came out weaker than he had ever heard it, “I'm sorry. It was a mistake, I'm a miserable, miserable fool. I want you. You're all I want.”

You laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “How can you even say that after what you did?”

“I know, you’re right,” he sighed, raking a scarred hand through his hair, his shadows dancing around his arms. “It doesn’t make sense, what I did. It was stupid and awful, and the worst thing that I’ve ever done, and I am so so sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, reaching his hand out to take yours. 

“Don’t touch me,” you spat, wrenching your hand away.

He blinked, taking a step back, his heart in his throat. 

“You said you loved me,” you said, your voice now barely a whisper, as if all your energy had been completely drained. “You said you wanted to be with me forever. Did you ever mean any of it?”

“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I still do. I love you. I want you.”

You sniffed, putting your head in your hands. “Well. You should’ve thought of that before you fucked her.”

He blanched at your tone, at your language. He didn’t think you’d ever said that word before, at least not around him.

“Please,” he said, his voice breaking, as he knelt down in front of you, trying to meet your eyes. “Please, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”

Your eyes rose to meet his. You took in the sight, the shadowsinger kneeling before you, begging for your forgiveness. “You can’t fix it,” you said, seething. “You left me. You abandoned me at Rita’s. Do you have any idea how that felt? I thought something horrible had happened to you!”

Azriel tightened his jaw. He hadn’t known, hadn’t even thought about--

“And then to see you. With her. In her bed,” you broke off, looking at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from falling, he knew.

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. His tears were flowing down his cheeks now and he hastily wiped them away, not wanting to take his eyes off you for fear that you would vanish.

After a long moment, you leveled your gaze on him again. “Would you have told me? If I wasn’t worried sick, if I had just gone home, and waited for you to stumble on in, would you have told me? Or would you just keep acting like everything was fine, knowing that you had just betrayed me?”

Azriel swallowed hard. He thought about the guilt he had felt immediately, how he was contemplating what the hell he was going to tell you as he was staring at that ceiling before Rhysand had knocked. “I would’ve told you,” he said, his voice husky. “I was going to tell you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, looking anywhere but him. “I don’t even know why I asked. How can I trust anything you say?”

“I don’t know. But it’s true,” he said, shifting on his knees, wishing he could reach for your hand. 

Hiding your face in your hands, you said, barely audibly, “I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me and making me feel like this.”

Azriel’s heart finally shattered completely. He knew he would never be able to put the pieces back together, as long as he lived. He had done this to you, his beautiful, bubbly, happy love. Reduced to this. To hating him. And he couldn’t even blame you. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”

“Stop saying that,” you cried. 

“It’s true. It’s all I’ve got. I won’t try to make excuses, I’m just … I’m sorry. And I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”

You sniffled, and took your hands away from your face, looking to the ceiling once again, like you were steeling yourself to say what you were about to. “I never want to see you again,” you said, weakly. “You can have the apartment. Elain and Nesta are packing my things right now.”

Azriel shook his head, his panic rising, “No, no, you don’t have to--”

“I do,” you cut him off. “It’s done, Az. We’re done,” you rose off the bed and went to the washroom, looking unsteady on your feet. “You can go now.”

You shut yourself in behind the closed door, and it was five hundred years of will and training that carried his legs out of the river house, and out of your life forever.

Azriel took to the sky, flying and flying, the wind biting at his skin, at his eyes. He kept picturing your heartbroken expression, the words you spoke to him.

He didn't stop flying until he made it to the depths of the Illyrian mountains, where he knew he would be well and truly alone.

Spotting a flat section nestled between several mountains, he landed in the snow, barely stopping long enough to punch the mountainside. It was stupid, he knew, he was more likely to break his hand than blow off any of this steam, but he had to do something to stop this pain, this panic, this despair that he could blame on nobody but himself.

He had lost you. He had lost the love of his life forever because he couldn't overcome his fears. He had been so scared that he wasn't good enough for you that he made sure that it was true.

Grunting, he punched the mountainside over and over again until his knuckles bled, and then he punched it some more. Tears froze on his cheeks, the wind chilling him to the bone.

Az was dimly aware of someone landing behind him, so hard it shook the ground beneath his feet. He kept punching.

“You're not going to solve your problems out here,” Cassian called to him.

Finally, Azriel halted, turning around to face his brother. “You know, we have better things to punch,” Cassian added.

Azriel scowled, sinking into the snow, exhausted.

Cassian strode over to him, plopping down a few feet away, hissing at the cold now sleeping through his pants. He studied Azriel, seemingly waiting for him to speak.

“She hates me,” Azriel whispered finally. “She said she never wants to see me again.”

Cassian sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Fuck.”

Azriel could only nod sadly.

“You know she didn't mean it. At least not the second part. She loves you.”

Sniffing, wiping at his eyes, Azriel groaned. “I don't know if she does anymore.”

“She does,” Cassian said quietly. “I know she does.”

After a beat of silence, Cassian asked, “What are you going to do?”

Azriel shrugged, watching his bloody hands start to heal. “Well. I could either hang around, keep apologizing, and piss her off more, or… leave her alone…”

“And piss her off more,” Cassian added.

A dry laugh escaped Azriel. “Exactly.”

Cassian was quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering how to help him.

“I’m not giving up on her,” Azriel finally said, with more conviction than he felt. “I just… I don't want to make it worse.”

“Az, I hate to tell you this, but I don't think it could get much worse,” Cassian said, grimacing.

Azriel just sighed, stretching out his wings behind him.

---

I knew I'd curse you for the longest time

Chasing shadows in the grocery line.

Seeing Azriel again, seeing him beg on his knees for your forgiveness, seeing how hollow his eyes looked, how his shadows were so unrelenting around him, had absolutely wrecked you. 

It was another few days until you had the courage to leave the river house at all. 

Azriel had come back to the river house several times, but you had your friends send him away. You couldn’t bear to see him again. 

Feyre and Rhysand had checked on you frequently during your stay at their house, consoling you, cursing Azriel’s name right along with you. Rhys had even loaned you what you needed to get your own apartment, on the other side of Velaris from the one that you once shared with Azriel.

That part seemed to make it final, somehow. You could almost convince yourself it had all been a dream until you made your way to your new, empty apartment, without a trace of the love that used to be yours. 

That empty apartment wrecked you all over again, and as you looked around it for the first time, your body folded in half, arms wrapping around your stomach as your body racked with sobs. 

You had started to regret insisting that you do this part by yourself. 

It was really over. Azriel really cheated on you and it was really done. 

You knew it was time to start distancing yourself from Azriel’s family. They had undoubtedly been on your side this whole time, but even Rhysand and Feyre were starting to change their tune slightly. You know he loves you still. You know he’s a good male. You know he’s so sorry.

You understood where they were coming from, really, you did. 

But that didn’t make it hurt less. What you needed was to hate him. It was the only way you could ever bring yourself to move on, to start living your life again.

You had been solemnly unpacking for a few hours when there was a knock on your door. You stiffened immediately. Rhysand and Feyre had said that they wouldn’t tell Azriel where you lived, but maybe he had figured it out?

“Relax sweetheart, it’s me,” Cassian said on the other side of the door, and you did relax, if only slightly. You hadn’t seen him since before this all started.

Reluctantly you let him in. He was sauntering, wearing that easy smirk he always donned. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or annoying. 

Cassian whistled as he looked around. “Nice place.”

You settled on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes softened as he walked closer to you, then perched next to you on the couch, not quite relaxed. “I wanted to check on you.”

“You can report back to Azriel that I’m just as pissed as ever,” you grumbled. 

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Cassian said quietly. 

Skeptically, you turned to face him. You were sure he would be the most likely to take Azriel’s side. 

After a moment, Cassian said, “If it’s any consolation, he hates himself probably about as much as you hate him right now.”

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you admitted.

Cassian sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Did you mean it? That you never wanted to see him again?”

You shifted, hugging your knees to your chest. “In the moment I did. Thinking about seeing him now… it breaks me apart. But, thinking about the rest of my life completely without him…”

“That breaks you apart too?” Cassian offered.

You nodded, tears stinging your eyes.

“Okay, look,” Cassian said, turning so he fully faced you. “I’m going to tell you something. You’re my friend and he’s my brother, and I love you both, so I need you to know I’m not trying to convince you of anything, I am merely giving you information. Okay?”

“O-kay…”

He took a deep breath, seemingly gathering his thoughts, before he continued. “Azriel has always felt like he was inferior. The way he was raised… he carries that around more than a lot of people think. He often thinks that he isn’t good enough for people, but especially you.”

“How do you know?” You knew that Az still dealt with a lot from his childhood, but he wouldn’t often voice those things to you. He had mentioned something about not feeling good enough when you saw him, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.

“He mentioned it to me a few times, that he didn’t feel like he was the kind of person you should be with. You’re so bright and bubbly, he felt like you deserved somebody who was the same.”

You rested your cheek on your knee, trying to digest the information. “But… he must have known I never actually felt like that, right?”

Cassian shrugged. “On a good day, maybe. But deep down I think he always had it in the back of his mind: that fear that he wasn’t right for you.”

“He should’ve told me,” you said quietly.

“I agree. And I’m not saying that it excuses what he did, but that day…it was a hard one for him. What he had to do in the Court of Nightmares.”

Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even thought about that. 

“Well, he should’ve told me that too.”

Cassian nodded. “Yes. He should have.”

You groaned. “I hate this.”

“I know,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.”

Cassian let you cry on his chest for a long moment before he said, “hH wants to come see you, you know. He doesn't want to give up on you.”

When you didn't respond, he said softly, “Just think about it.”

Days later, all that Cassian had said was still ringing in your ears, even as you walked through the market when it was the busiest.

Despite everything, it hurt your heart to think that Azriel had ever felt like he wasn't enough for you. And you were still so hurt at what he had done and what you had seen, but it at least made more sense now.

You hated this feeling of loneliness that followed you around wherever you went now, rooted so deeply in you that you were scared it would never go away.

Azriel had been so good to you for so long. Was one mistake really worth throwing everything away?

Every time you had the thought though, you remembered the sight of him in her bed and wanted to scream or cry or kick something.

Suddenly, as you were nearing the edge of the market, you swore you saw the wisp of a curling shadow out of the corner of your eye and stiffened. This hadn't been the first time that you thought you glimpsed Azriel's shadows or wings in public since it happened.

But, no this time it was real. And he saw you too.

You willed your feet to move, but they wouldn't. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, from this man who had loved and hurt you so completely.

Azriel approached you like you were an injured animal he was trying not to scare away. Your heart thundered in your chest.

“Hi,” he said in what you knew was his gentlest voice.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Still, after everything, you missed him. And seeing him now… it was too much to bear. Yet, too much to walk away.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, his eyes swimming with pain and affection. His shadows were on full display, despite the fact that they usually shied away from the sun. 

“You've already said that,” you murmured, still rooted to the spot.

“I know. And I'll keep saying it every chance I get. If I knew where you lived, I'd send you flowers or a book or dinner from that restaurant you love every day and I'd tell you I'm sorry and that I love you.” His voice was shaky in a way you had never heard from the shadowsinger.

“You would not,” you said, trying to sound angry but it just came out weak.

“Of course I would,” he said, risking a step closer to you. “I would do anything to take your pain away. You have to believe that.” 

You did. You did believe that he meant it. But you didn't know if it would be enough.

For a moment you let yourself gaze at the man you once trusted with your whole heart. He looked thinner, like he hadn't been eating enough. His eyes were still hollow, dark bags beneath them. Even his wings drooped slightly. He might look even worse than you did.

And yet, you could still see the beautiful, sweet shadowsinger you had fallen in love with so long ago.

Finally you said quietly, “I'll tell Rhys he can give you my address.”

Those hazel eyes sparked with hope. And love. Definitely love.

---

The only thing I wanna do

Is make it up to you.

When you went out the next morning, there was a book left at your doorstep with a note attached.

It was the newest from one of your favorite authors. Your lips formed the tiniest smile.

The note read:

I couldn't start my groveling with something too cliche, so I went straight for your romance novels.

I've never told you this, but I always love when you tell me about the books you’re reading. Your entire face lights up when you do. And you know I love a fairytale ending.

I hope you have a good day today.

I'm so sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry for hurting you.

I love you so much. I always will.

-Az

You couldn't help but laugh a little by the time you got to the end. As if anybody else would be writing you this note.

The next morning when you stepped out your door, there was a pastry from your favorite cafe in a to-go bag. On the bag was a note:

I'm really hoping you'll find this in the morning so it's still good.

If not, you just come let me know and I'll drop everything to get you a fresh one. 

I miss you.

My life is a nightmare without you.

I'm so sorry.

I love you.

-Az

And so it went. Every morning, rain or shine, Azriel would leave something that he knew you would love, with a note, always ending in some version of I'm sorry. I love you.

It did warm your heart that had turned so cold. The dedication alone was enough to prove to you that he really was sorry for what he did.

Yet, every time a note would make you laugh or cry so much that you wanted to run to his arms, you were always stopped by that image that plagued your mind. By the fact that he did what he did and no amount of little gifts would change it.

Months passed, and to Azriel's credit, the gifts, and more importantly the notes, kept coming. Your bedside drawer was completely full of them. And there may have been a night or two when you missed him so desperately that you would read them over and over again until your eyes burned and you had no choice but to cry yourself to sleep.

You would sometimes lay awake at night, picturing him coming up to your door. Several times you wanted to wait up for him, to listen for his footsteps, to pull him into your apartment, forget everything that happened and just be happy again.

But you never had the nerve. You were terrified of going through it all again.

Until one day, there was no gift at your door. No note. No sign of him anywhere.

Your heart plummeted. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? Injured on some mission Rhysand sent him on?

Or had he finally given up on you?

It wasn't until that moment that you were willing to admit to yourself how much you had been relying on those notes, those little pieces of him.

You went through your day in a daze, devastated all over again.

It was early in the evening when there was a knock on your door. For a moment, you hoped it would be Azriel. You hadn't actually seen him for months. But you quickly realized it was more likely to be one of your friends, who still came by, despite what you had initially thought.

So, the breath was knocked completely out of you when it was indeed the shadowsinger waiting on the other side of the door. 

His handsome face, his soft expression, on his face made you want to weep. You missed him so much.

Azriel smiled somewhat shyly as he gazed down at you, holding a paper bag in his hand. “I'm sorry it's late. Rhys has got me scouting out some things, and I didn't get back here until now. I brought dinner,” he said, holding it out to you.

You recognized it from your favorite restaurant. With shaking hands, you took it from him, spotting the note attached to the outside.

I'm sorry. I love you.

I'm sorry. I love you.

I'm sorry. I love you.

Over and over again it was repeated, taking up the entire paper. You placed it on a table inside before your gaze flicked back to him. He was watching you closely, his wings tucked in tightly behind him. 

“I thought you gave up on me,” you whispered.

His timid smile fell. “Never,” he said softly. “I'll never give up on you. I love you so much.”

Tears brimmed your eyes and all of a sudden, you knew you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't want to hate him, you didn't want to dwell on the one awful thing that he had done. You had a drawer full of wonderful things that he had done.

“I love you, too,” you murmured, the tears spilling freely down your cheeks now.

A sound that sounded distinctly like a sob escaped Azriel, and he wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. “I never thought I'd hear you say that again,” he sniffed, his hand cupping the back of your head, kissing your temple.

After a long moment, he took your face in his hands, gazing at you for a moment before he slowly kissed your tears away. You laughed lightly and he smiled, leaning in to kiss you so softly, like he was afraid you would break.

“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. “I love you so much.”

You pulled back long enough to gently brush his tears away. “No more secrets. If you're struggling with something, you need to tell me.”

“I know. I'm sorry. No more secrets.”

“And nobody else. Ever.”

He winced. “I'm so sorry, love.”

“I know you are,” you said softly, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

You rose to your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

At last, you had found your way back home.

A/N: Want to see Azriel pay for his crimes instead? Go read the alternate angsty ending here!

#acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel one shot #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar angst #acotar fanfic #angst #angst with a happy ending #request #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel

[trulyhblue]

Bf Leah being wound up after a bad game and takes control. Smut pls!!!!

BLED BLUE

leah williamson x chelsea! reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, humiliation, dom/sub dynamics, age gap (legal + consensual), hate sex, enemies w/ benefits, rough, coarse language.

________________

Part of you wondered how long it would take Leah to take you home. There was not an ounce of blue in her body, taken only by the lifelong allegiance to North London, but the thought of you, a blue-born Chelsea girl, taking up the space under her sheets, was addictive.

Chelsea were the better team. Always was, and always will be. The Blues were better at everything. Their players were more advanced, their game plans had been executed to perfection. Arsenal were sloppy, poor, and unjust. It was embarrassing to the point where it stood out as entertaining to you. Seeing the almighty, reigning Arsenal fall on their knees and succumb to the superiority of your team was endearing, and you found yourself searching for the thrill increasingly more as the game progressed.

And the sight of the woman you hated oh so much angered by the defeated notion of the final whistle was your idea of an indescribable victory.

“What a shame, Williamson.” You snagged, clutching the fabric at your hips, looking down at her bent figure. “I thought you’d play well.”

“Ah, it is you.” She replied with just as much spite. “I thought I saw someone falling flat on their face. Makes sense now that I know it was you.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. “Yeah, tried to show my humility… y’know, after scoring two goals tonight I thought it was only necessary.”

Leah scoffed, straightening her posture to display her authoritative height over you. “Both off deflections… sounds brilliant.”

“Player of the match worthy.” You bit back, stepping forward, pressing your chest against hers, suppressing the heat in your face. “Don't worry, I’ll make sure to credit your own goal in the interview.”

“Always have an excuse to talk about me. Can't stop, can you?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I don't think of you.” Leah shook her head, grabbing the hem of your shorts and fiddling with them persistently. “But if I did, I’d be sure to let you know.”

“If only I cared enough to hear it.” You tutted, not really caring about the openness of your situation. The stadium was still quite full, with both of your teammates lingering on the field. Fans were banking the barricade, no doubt looking for the two of you.

“I could tell you now if you’d like.”

“Aw, are you thinking of me now, Williamson?”

You felt Leah’s hand move to the inside of your thigh, pressing a tight pinch to gain any type of reaction from you. Biting your lip, you hoped that the post-game redness covered your blush.

“I bet you love the thought of people watching this, don't you?” She asked, glaring at you with such hatred that her words felt bittersweet. “Always so desperate for attention that you’d do it in front of everyone. Fucking needy.”

“You’re the one touching me.” In anger, you snapped. You didn't like the way Leah seemed so confident, so right in what she was saying. You wanted to be right. You were the one who won it for your team. You were better than her. She needed to realise that.

The only separation between the two of you was by your arms crossed over your chest. Leah was drawing furious patterns along your thigh, pressed up against you with her face above you, your height earning her to look down.

“Pull away then.” She uttered, now pulling you into a hug. You knew this would send fans into a spiral. Everybody knew about your rivalry with Leah. It was evident in the tackles, the cards, the teams, the games, the interactions. This was unclaimed territory. You had both teased each other after the games. There was always fire and spite, anger and resentment, but never contact. She told you to pull away, and by the tension that lingered, if you did she would let you have there was something else there. You felt it between your legs, running down your spine, making your core yearn.

It was in the way she kept her hand in between your thighs, deepening her fingers just below where you needed her most. She held you tight, closing any physical gap, forcing your arms to circle her waist as she wrapped her spare arm around the name on the back of your shoulders. You don't know why, but you held her back just as tight, breathing heavily when she started moving her fingers upwards.

“So tense.” She spat, rubbing your shoulder.

You shook her arm off, keeping the contact but still resistant. “I pulled it at training, of course it is.”

“Wasn't talking about your shoulder, baby.” She chuckled, her voice sending goosebumps down your neck. “In those thighs. Clenching them so hard and I'm hardly touching ‘em.”

That was when you knew your cheeks were burning.

There was a hint of humiliation in your tone, but your anger was still prevalent. “I didn't even notice your hand.”

“Yeah, alright.” Williamson grinned, pulling away. You felt the cold air nip your cheeks at the sudden loss of contact. Her fingers were no longer soothing the ache in between your legs. “Alright, baby, no, all that flushed cheeks from the big game, hm? Breathing so heavily cause you scored two goals, is that you’re so wet for me?”

“I’m not— you're so—”

Leah stepped away again, and you were too stupid to step forward in response. “God, is that what you're gonna sound like in the interview? You a mess, Baby, really. All flustered and red.”

“I'm not red.” You snapped. “And stop calling me baby. You're only four years older than me.”

Leah could see straight through you. “But you love that though.” She saw straight past your visible persona. “Why don't you show me how mature you are then? Can't call you baby if you prove that you're not.” She could tell by your flustered state, your wide eyes and your tainted disposition that you were struggling to handle the conversation.

“I don't need to prove anything to you. I just won the match. That's enough to prove that I'm better anyway.”

“But you needed help to get there, didn't you?” She retorted. “It’s not your name on the score sheet, it's mine. Look,” she pointed up to the screen, almost condescendingly, above the stands, where WILLIAMSON (OG) was printed boldly in white below the score. “All that hard work and I still get the mention.”

There was a fight for dominance, but the fight was so clearly won when you audibly gulped, unable to come up with just enough answer to compel yourself into a deeper state of anger. If anything, you were willing to resort to forbidding, but you were stubborn and bled blue.

“You’re just mad that you lost and we won. Chelsea was always better anyway, and you were just too slow… bet that's always the case.”

Leah’s jaw clicked, her lips settling into a thin line.

“In what case?” She muttered distinctly.

“You know what case.” You failed to notice the challenge, finding yourself in a superior position of confidence to realise the hole you were digging for yourself. “Slow and boring… on and off the pitch. You definitely get around, but you never seem to see one person twice. Maybe that's because they don't want to see you.”

Leah grabbed your wrist, yanking you off the field. It was a tradition that you would see the fans after every game, so you tugged back in retaliation.

She pivoted to face you, glaring at you with so much affliction that you yearned for more.

“You seem really interested in how I ‘get around’. Sounds like you wish it was you.”

No matter how hard your body was willing to succumb to her words, you stood firm by scoffing, rolling your eyes at her cockiness. “If only I was so desperate.”

“I’ll show you just how desperate I can get you.” The captain spat, holding your forearm now, easily leading you further down the tunnel where fans or players could no longer find you. “Didn't even properly touch you before and you were a needy mess.”

“You’re always so fucking sure of yourself, aren't you, Williamson?” You snapped back, hearing the clad of your boots fail to drown out your ungrateful tone. You did not care for what Leah was so keen to impress you with. Never had anyone told you that Leah did not impress. She was determined to make sure everyone was supplied with the right things for their needs. She valued giving pleasure over receiving. But if there was one thing she hated, it was brats like you.

You stood outside the Chelsea changing rooms, your kit still adorned on your figure.

“Go get your shit.” She snarled, letting go of your arm and jabbing you forward.

You scoffed, stopping dead in your tracks. “And what? You're gonna wait for me and drop me home? I have a license, Williamson, I'm not your fucking—”

You couldn't finish your rant, yelping when Leah cut you off, grabbing the collar of your shirt and mashing her lips against yours. One of her legs found its way between yours, her knee pushing against your core. A moan fell from your lips, and the woman wasted no time in slipping her tongue in, caging your figure between you and the wall.

She waited until you were kissing her back before grabbing your neck. She instantly moved down to litter harsh kisses down the nape of your neck, using her hands to move underneath your shirt, massaging your breasts. You were a mess beneath her, breathing heavily when the pressure on your clit intensified when her knee started rubbing patterns up and down.

“Swear at me again and see how it turns out for you.” She muttered in your ear, relishing the whines that fell from your lips as her knee continued its work. “If I tell you to grab your bag, that's what you do, yeah? You understand, Chelsea?”

The nickname left you shrinking, her words making your core glisten. You weren't completely sure whether the Arsenal girl was planning on taking you home. You didn't understand why you were all of a sudden pretty much moaning at the friction of her knee.

But you weren't fucking complaining.

“My teammates are in there.”

Leah let out a laugh. “You had no problem letting me touch you in a filled Stanford Bridge, Babygirl. I think it’d be healthy if your teammates realised who fucks their Stargirl after a home game.”

“You haven't fucked me, yet.” Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the thought of the England captain fucking you sending you into a spiral.

“Go get your bag and then I can use that pretty mouth for something other than moaning my last name… not that I mind when you do that.”

You wasted no time in doing as you were told, forever thankful that all of your teammates were either still interacting with fans or showering. You grabbed all of your stuff and quickly followed Leah over to the away changing rooms.

She let you walk through, since none of the girls were present, grabbing your belongings and chucking them inside her cubby. You felt her figure cage you back into the nearest wall, her hands how playing with the hem of your shirt, inching it further up your waist until it was completely disregarded, and you were left in your sports bra and shorts.

“Why so quiet?” Leah asked, kissing down the column of your neck, fondling your breasts. You sighed at the growing ache in your core, throwing your head back when Leah’s knee came back into contact with your clit.

“Some— someone’s going to walk in.”

Leah snorted. “Like you would mind.”

You huffed, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her head further down your body. Leah’s knee stopped in return, leaving you writhing at the loss of pressure.

“Use your words or you can get off yourself.”

“Like you could get me off.” You retorted.

“I don't make brats cum.” She spat, moving back up to tower over you. “I edge them until they’re desperate and getting themself off my thigh. I treat them like brats, and maybe you need to work a little fucking harder for what you want.”

“You were just teasing me!”

“You're just desperate.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Leah.” There it was. Music to her ears.

“What?”

You whined, using your hips to drag yourself along her knee.

“What was that, Baby? Couldn't hear you under all those whines.”

“Leah, c’mon.” You stated potently, getting more impatient by the minute. “I'm not begging.”

The number six shrugged, looking down at you with wide, innocent eyes like she had no clue what you were going on about. Like she didn't even realise that you were humping her leg longing for some relief.

“Begging for what?” She moved her finger painstakingly down your chest, tracing your abs ever so slowly.

“For you.”

“For me?” She questioned, feigning confusion. Her hand dipped into the waistband of your shorts, circling your clit over your underwear. “Answer me, Darling. What do you want me to do? I'm touching you.”

“Touch me more.”

Leah tutted, moving her hand away. You groaned, throwing your head back when no pleasure was offered. “I'm afraid that's not how you ask. It might get you somewhere at Chelsea, but at Arsenal, we treat our Captains with respect. Even our star girls use their manners in the North end.”

“Touch me more, please.”

“Where, Chelsea?” Leah moved closer to you, peeling off her own shirt, removing your shorts, leaving you in your underwear and bra. “Be a good girl and tell me where.” She asked, her body lowering itself closer to the ground. You watched her kneel before you, hands gripping your waist, kneading your hips, lips biting your inner thigh.

“My clit, Lee, please. I need you to touch me there.”

“Such a good girl for your Captain, aren't you?” Leah ran her tongue along your folds, your underwear pooled at your feet. Your legs were swung over her shoulders, your hands buried in her hair, pulling taunt to her ponytail and the hairs that had fallen out during the game. Your moans were still muffled by the bite in your lips, the nerves of someone hearing your desperation for your enemy is still evident in the way you kept your mouth shut.

It was when Leah’s tongue latched onto your clit, sucking harshly on the swollen bud that your noises fell so adamantly from your reddened lips. You felt Leah’s cocky smile, her chuckles sending vibrations of pleasure through your body.

“Sound so pretty, Baby.”

“Leah— fuck, Lee. I'm gonna—”

“You’re going to hold it. Taste so good, you can wait.”

The coil in your stomach was forming long before Leah had even started, and the more Leah attacked your bud, the more your orgasm led to burst. Your moans had doubled in volume when one of her hands came up to play with your nipple, pinching it and playing with the nub every time her tongue licked up your folds. Her other hand worked its way through your pussy, spreading your slick all over your thighs, letting it run down your shaking legs and make your skin glisten with the glossy arousal.

“Want Stanford to hear you,” Leah spoke from below you. You whined at the thought. You were in a state of pure bliss that all cautionary thoughts of interruption were so far gone. All you could think about was Leah’s face between your legs.

“Feels so good, Lee. Want to cum so bad for you.”

“You can hold it, baby.”

“Mh, Lee, please.”

Leah moaned at your whines, nuzzling her nose up against your clit, pinching your nipple hard, reeling at the moan you let out in response. She saw the way your hole clenched around nothing, smirking at the way you rolled your hips across her face, working your pussy into her mouth so easily. She felt powerful knowing she had you at her disposal. You were stunning always, but there was something about you now that set Leah off. It made her angry knowing that you weren't hers to fuck at her discretion. It made her protective over you in ways she had never felt before. You were Chelsea’s protege — everyone worried when going up against you.

“Leah.”

It wasn't like something had changed, but Leah had realised that her hate was actually protection and adoration. She wanted you for herself. She wanted to steer you away from anyone that would hurt you. She hated Chelsea, she despised the West side more than anything, and it wasn't the sex that made her realise this.

“Leah.”

It was her name coming from your lips.

“Cum for me, Baby.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were barreling over the edge, your legs relying entirely on the strength of Leah’s upper body to keep you balanced. Your moans exemplified the stimulation of your orgasm riding out, and Leah’s endeavours to lick the result of it up as it poured into her mouth and onto your thighs.

The woman made sure you had somewhat caught your breath before she moved, having a moment to catch her own breath and comprehend what just happened. When she knew you were able to stand independently, she moved over to her cubby, grabbing the baby wipes she always had handy, moving back down to her knees to clean the mess across your legs as you covered your chest back with your jersey, and later your shorts.

Leah moved to do the same, except she watched as you fumbled with what to do. She gave you a pointed look as if to question your thinking, and you simply sighed and waddled over to her, slight humiliation at your wobbly legs painting your cheeks as you grabbed your bag.

“You all good, Baby?” She asked, her voice no longer authoritative and rather empathetic.

“Yeah, thanks.” You nodded. “Erm… sorry for being… rude… actually I'm not sorry but I am.”

“Yeah, same,” Leah replied a cheeky grin settled on her complexion. “I think we can settle for friendly rivalry from now on.”

“If that's what you call this, then sure.” You added, laughing along with what to make of the situation, feeling more out of place than ever in the middle of the Arsenal room. “I better go.”

“I’ll drive you home.”

“Lee, I've got my license—”

“It wasn't a question, Chelsea.”

You stood there defeated, knowing internally that you had no way home after Millie had driven you to the stadium and would have left by now anyway. Leah must’ve known that by the way she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her chest.

“Besides, wouldn't want that Player of The Match Trophy getting forgotten now, would we?”

_________________

A/N — bad ending but oh well… HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

#leah williamson x you #leah williamson smut #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #lionesses x reader #lionesses #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #chelsea #chelsea women #arsenal #woso #caitlin foord #beth mead #jessie fleming #guro reiten #sam kerr #millie bright #erin cuthbert #smut #woso request #woso fic #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #woso smut #chelsea wfc #womens super league

[theemporium]

can i request 💜 "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know." with luke hughes please!!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. "You're the only one who gets to call me that, you know."

.

In a sport like hockey, you got used to being called a variety of different names for a variety of stupid reasons. 

Some made sense. Some had a funny backstory. Some were born from an embarrassing memory you could never escape. Some had no real correlation but it was used once and it stuck and now the whole team used it. It was just one of the dynamics of hockey that you got used to pretty early on. 

And the thing was that Luke didn’t hate his name. He didn’t, it would have broken his parents heart if he said as much. It just wasn’t exactly like he was ecstatic for people to throw ‘Luke Warren Hughes’ at him. Or at least, he didn’t like it when his middle name was brought into the locker room. 

Maybe it was PTSD from the teasing he got when he was in middle school. Maybe it was the fact it sounded a little like it belonged to a sixty year old man. Or maybe it was because he was so damn used to being known as ‘Luke Hughes’ or ‘the other Hughes’, that he sometimes forgot he had a middle name.

Whatever the reason was, Luke never liked it being used in the locker room by the boys. He didn’t really like the name being used, full stop. Unless it was one of his parents using it. He thought he managed to avoid it for years until he joined the New Jersey Devils and met the team—met you.

Because, for some fucking reason that was beyond his own understanding, every rule and belief Luke had went flying out the window when it came to you. 

Including the use of his middle name.

“God, Warren, couldn’t even use a comb this morning?” 

Luke felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted his head to find you wandering into the locker room. Most of the team were already out on the ice, but Luke was one of the stragglers that was still getting his gear on. It wasn’t his fault the team decided team pictures needed to be taken at an ungodly hour before practice. 

“Does it look that bad?” Luke questioned, trying to ignore the pleasant twist in his stomach when you flashed him a smile and made your way over to him.

“I think it looks cute,” you replied, lip tucked between your teeth as you reached out to gently run your fingers through his curls. “Curtis might give you some shit though.”

“Curtis always gives me shit,” he mumbled, letting his eyes flutter shut as your nails gently scraped along his scalp. 

“Hm, well tell him to come talk to me if he gives you a hard time for your curls,” you said, and even with his eyes closed, he could hear the smile in your voice. 

His cheeks burned as he tilted his head back to look at you, his own smile mirroring yours. “Gonna be my knight in shining armour?” 

“M’always gonna have your back, Warren,” you replied, your voice a little softer. A little more genuine. 

He swallowed. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know.” 

Your smile widened. “Oh, I know. Jack told me you once got into a fight during a game back in middle school after some guy on the other team used it.”

He groaned a little at the memory. “Quinn and Jack gave me so much shit after that. They called me Warren for a week after that.” 

You snorted. “What did you do?”

“I told on them,” he admitted, a little sheepish. “They got grounded for a week.” 

You laughed and his smile widened at the sound.

“So how come you let me use it?” You asked, something else in your voice that Luke couldn’t quite name but it still made his heart speed up a little.

“I guess I like you more than them.” It was meant to come out light-hearted and teasing, but it felt far too heavy and suggestive once the words left his mouth.

“Enough to grab something to eat after practice?” You asked, so casual and calm like you couldn’t see the way Luke’s whole face was burning a pretty shade of red. 

“More than enough,” he said with a nod, unable to fight the grin off his face when you smiled back.

“Then better get your pretty ass out there before the boys make you do drills after practice for being late,” you teased, laughing as you watched him quickly shove on the rest of his gear before rushing out the door.

.

#cece's cocktail celebration #luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

[tojjist]

𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 ↳ r. sukuna

in which: the king of curses left you the moment you announce your pregnancy to him. but after nearly losing you... he might be having a change of heart contains: very slight objectification of reader, reader is a half-curse, mentions of injury and near-death experience, reader is pregnant, slight mention of pregnancy sex, sukuna is really ooc tbh A/N: yall really wanted soft sukuna lmao. i js wanted to write something more in my own style instead of the tumblr style. It's all over the place really, also obv trueform! sukuna. w.c : 1.6k

“Sukuna-sama?” Your voice comes out a breathy whisper, barely audible.

“Do– ugh,” The pink-haired curse sighs. “Don’t call me that. And don’t make me repeat myself.”

You haven’t known Sukuna to be tender. Actually, scratch that. You used to genuinely believe he mistook the adjective for an affront. He probably still does, despite the sheer softness of his actions. His mind is a marvel far beyond your, or anyone else's, comprehension. And if Sukuna hasn’t always been complicated, his sudden switch of behavior recently has rendered  unriddling the complex being that he is even harder.

“What do I call you then?” There’s confusion in your tone; confusion fused with unadulterated innocence. His eyebrows crease further. He loved how naive and ingénue you are. Such a simple, sheepish thing. Easy to lead one, easy to use, easy to hurt. But as of late, he’d come to hate it.

He hates that he hates it. He shouldn’t care.

“I don’t fucking know,” he snaps back. It’s enough to bring you silence, the somber tone he uses coming with a sense of finality. 

Rough callouses are surprisingly gentle against your flesh—callouses that slap, bruise, grope, but never caress. Despite that, he pulls your underwear up your thighs with utter care. If you didn’t know any better, you might even dare call his actions delicate.

“Does it hurt?” He reminisces. Curious digits stroke your lower abdomen and across the swell of your belly, where an ugly scar sits. It decorates your skin with a long, uneven line of dried blood cells.

“It’s not too bad,” You assure, daring to test your luck by bringing your own hand to his hair. It causes the king of curses to pause. His ember eyes continue to stare at your scar, unable to swat your hand away for some reason. The wooden floor beneath him feels too cold. Or he feels too hot. He’s unsure.

In the dimness of the room, there is no light but the flickering glow emitted from the fire, ensconced within a cage of brick—a fireplace, by name. Yet, the warmth that enfolds you does not excrete solely from the flames. It originates from within, a pulsating heat that comes with the beat of your heart as a large palm finds your shoulder, urging you forward with an urgency that seems to echo through the very fibers of your being.

“What about this one?”His intense glare persists, averting your demure gaze. Never before have you witnessed him in such a state, making you wonder whether this demeanor is a consequence of recent events.

“It’s fine, I promise,” Your whispered words cause his gaze to harden even further, his thumb tracing over another, deeper cut nestled in the valley between your breasts. This one could have been fatal. The realization sends a shiver down his spine, unsettling him to his core. Sukuna, the ancient and ruthless curse, has borne witness to countless horrors in his long existence, inflicted unspeakable cruelty upon countless souls, but none have shaken him to his core quite like seeing you teetering on the brink of death. The memory stirs within him an unfamiliar sense of disquiet, a realization that his desires may have consequences far more profound than he ever anticipated.

The brawny curse grunts in response, opting to continue examining the scar. He’s careful to not stretch it as your human flesh would hurt. 

Sukuna’s agenda never included leaving a child within you. It never even crossed his mind. Such muses were not to be entertained, especially not with you.

You. Yeah, you who doesn't try to kill humans simply for the pleasure it brings. You who takes life so lightly, as if you have several souls to spare. You who accepts every word Sukuna says as an indisputable fact, every order executed before he has a chance to reconsider.

You, who has shared your bed with the strongest curse more times than he cares to count, always intrigued him—an enigmatic subject for his manipulations. You, who confided in him the startling revelation that your half-cursed body now nurtures a growing fetus.

At first, Sukuna swore he'd never visit you again, adamant in his belief that he wanted no involvement in your pregnancy, leaving you to navigate the situation alone. Despite his capability to end your life without hesitation, he chose to spare you. Sukuna granted you a reprieve under the condition that he never crosses paths with you or whatever child you carry. He told himself time and time again that you would be a rather boring kill, not worth the effort. But it wasn't about the difficulty of ending your life—it was an excuse. He'd never admit that he doesn't want your blood staining his hands

Sukuna swears he’s not soft, that he doesn’t care for you at all.But the notion of being the one who brings you to your end does not enthrall him in the least.

He doesn’t care for the inferior likes of you, he reminds himself. That’s absurd. It’s laughable. It’s offensive, even. He doesn’t ‘care’, It’s simply curiosity that keeps him around. Curious of what kind of child the one you carry would come out to be. To see if they’d be worthy of being called his kin or not.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is dulcet, a melody that cuts his train of thought smoothly. Unlike anything he’s ever heard before. There’s a pleading tone, a need so urgent it's almost painful. He finds pleasure in that. Your perpetual longing for him, your unwavering loyalty even after his defeat by sorcerers the first time around—you kept him close like a devoted guardian to a fallen hero, even when you knew is anything but a hero. It's a power unlike any other—staying but not out of fear, it's a choice. A strong belief.

Balancing on his knees between her parted legs, he reaches out, his fingers finding purchase on the edge of the bed. His grip tightens instinctively, fingers slipping beneath the hem of the sheet as he steadies himself. With a controlled effort, he pushes upward, leveraging the bed for support as he rises to his feet

“Why do you ask questions you know the answer to?” He muses, his towering frame looking down at you. The flickering flames of the fire, their orange hues swirling and weaving a macabre tapestry around his countenance, lend him an aura of terror that would instill fear in any who behold him. Yet, unlike others, you find his presence strangely comforting. Despite the aura of terror he exudes, you've grown accustomed to it, finding solace in his formidable presence now more than ever before.

Your only reaction is to chew on the inside of your cheek, careful to not bite the fiber too hard. There’s an ambivalent air to him, remaining motionless as he towers over you. It seems as if he’s looking for something. Anything. He wants a reason to stay, but he can’t seem to find one satisfying enough.

He owes you nothing. But when you look at him like that… He’s never been one to falter at your pleading face, but perhaps he’s changing little by little. He staunchly refuses to acknowledge this change still, for him to do so would be an admission of vulnerability, a humiliation he cannot bear, even to himself. How he yearns for the willpower to end you, to push you away so you never obstruct his way like this again.

The worst part of it all is his acute awareness of why he feels so strongly now. He knows that it’s all him, and not at all you. He can pinpoint the exact moment he regret leaving your side. The memory is seared into his very core. 

He wishes he could forget, to erase the haunting image of you, wounded and bleeding, from his mind. 

It was when he came back a few days after his departure, for reasons he can’t recall, only to be greeted by the sight of a malevolent curse looming over you, hungry and poised to make you its next meal. He shouldn’t have intervened. It's the natural order—a relentless cycle where only the strongest survive, preying upon the weaker. He knows he's no exception. Nor are you.

But seeing you sprawled out on the floor, barely intact, with his child inside of you. 

He gulps at the memory, feeling an overwhelming urge to touch you once more, to make sure you’re not some figment of his imagination. To keep you from harm. You’re so stupid, so goddamn naive. He doesn’t know what to make of you. Other than a fucking headache.

“What is it? What do you want, brat?” He hopes to catch some semblance of his normal attitude. “Get it over with.”

“Please stay,” You plead, fingers gently gripping the open kimono he had thrown on once finished with you. “Please, Sukuna-sama.”

He sighs. You’re so obstinate.

Perhaps it's his lack of understanding that breeds hesitation within him, or perhaps it's his inherently fierce nature. A thing like you deserves to be treated with the utmost delicacy, cherished and nurtured. Sukuna, with his staunch commitment solely to his ideals, can never be the one assuming such a role for you.

“You’re doing things to me, you know?” Sukuna gets down, kneeling between your parted legs again, placing a warm palm in either side of your hips and seizing you within.

Maybe… staying with you tonight wasn’t such a ludicrous notion. He’s the king of curses; he  has all the time in the world to fret the trivial details.

#arabella writes #jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk fluff #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #jjk smut #sukun x reader smut #ryomen sukuna smut #dividers by benkeibear

[doumadono]

Warnings: smut w/o plot, rough p in v, oral (f & m receiving), wry & dom Dabi, f!reader, a lot of cursing and names calling, slapping, a little degradation, hate s*x Synopsis: arranging a birthday celebration for Dabi proved to be a mistake. It ignited his anger, driving him to his room in a fit of rage. When anger transformed into desire, Dabi insisted on celebrating in his own way, marking the first intimate encounter between the two of you A/N: the prompt was Dabi's first time with his girlfriend is on his birthday This marks the last story crafted in celebration of Dabi's birthday 💜

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST DABI'S BIRTHDAY EVENT

"You little cunt!" Dabi's voice thundered, a venomous edge cutting through the air. He didn't bother casting a glance in your direction.

In response to the verbal assault, you jerked your hand free from his grip. "What's the matter this time, Mr. Know-It-All? I merely intended to throw you a pleasant birthday celebration, and you act as though I threatened to annihilate your entire family!"

Dabi scoffed dismissively, striding purposefully toward his room. "Do you think I'd give a damn fuck if you did? Of course not. And I thought I made myself crystal clear — I want no bloody celebrations. I detest my birthday. I despise the very notion of being born. What is so challenging for your tiny, stupid brain to comprehend?"

A disbelieving sigh escaped your lips. While you were well aware of his aversion to birthdays, the magnitude of his anger caught you off guard. Baking him a cake and orchestrating a modest gathering with the assistance of Toga and Shigaraki seemed like a harmless gesture to celebrate his existence, yet it had evidently ignited an unexpected fury.

Dabi came to an abrupt halt and glanced back at you, seizing your wrist and pulling you closer to him. "No response, huh?" he sneered. "Fine, little cunt. So, you're keen on celebrating the day this damn pathetic villain, murderer, and arsonist was born? Well, we'll celebrate it, but we'll do it my damn way."

He forcibly pulled you behind him, and despite your inner desire to break free from his grip, the futility of any attempt was evident – he wielded a strength far surpassing your own.

Dabi swung open the door to his room and shoved you inside, the harsh sound of the door slamming shut resonating through the air as he entered, sealing the room in an oppressive silence.

In the midst of the heated altercation, the details of the argument eluded your memory. A palpable anger still hung in the air, the exchange of words escalating to a fever pitch.

Your gaze shifted toward Dabi, poised to retort, but the intensity in his turquoise eyes arrested your words. The pulsating vein in the black-haired man's neck became a focal point, a magnetic force compelling your desire to quell its frenetic rhythm with a kiss.

His recognition of the unspoken yearning reflected in your face halted his verbal assault, leaving his mouth slightly ajar.

In that suspended moment, the impulse to crush your lips against his neck overwhelmed you. You yearned to soothe the frenetic heartbeat beneath the surface.

As if reading your intentions, Dabi seized you abruptly, drawing you into the circle of his robust arms. It was as if he had glimpsed into the depths of your desires, a skill he wielded with uncanny accuracy. In that instant, he kissed you with the intensity you had yearned for, the clash of tongues mirroring the earlier verbal sparring. The taste of anger mingled with a surprising sweetness, and your body ignited with a white-hot desire, a fervor that only Dabi could unleash. The searing sensation surged from your chest down to your thighs, awakening every inch of your being.

You had sensed the fire kindling in Dabi's loins, the hardness growing almost instantly, and his whole body turning super hot due to his quirk.

Dabi grasped a handful of your hair, yanking your head back, and engaged in a fervent exchange of kisses, licks, and nips, each touch eliciting moans of pleasure from your slightly bruised, parted lips.

The yearning became unbearable, compelling you to crave the feel of Dabi's skin against yours. Almost as if he had divined your thoughts, he leaned back, swiftly discarding his shirt through his hair. His hands reached for your blouse, and with a forceful yank, he tore it open, sending buttons scattering across the tiny room. Despite the intimidating aura that surrounded Dabi, you harbored no fear.

Even though you were aware of his desires, the topic about sex was returning like a boomerang, resurfacing every few days. It had been over half a year since you both became a thing, yet you had not crossed the threshold into a physical relationship, and this restraint was gradually driving Dabi to the brink of madness. You suspected that today's outbursts were fueled, in part, by the previous night's rejection when, amidst a heated make-out session, you had declined his advances as his hand ventured into your shorts, teasing your folds through the fabric of your knickers.

Yet now, a curious mixture of emotions surged within you. Somehow, you found yourself yearning for him with an intensity that defied explanation. Despite no longer being a virgin, a concern lingered about the potential discomfort of engaging in sex with Dabi.

Dabi's lips sought yours once more as he simultaneously released the front clasp of your sheer bra. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, the exquisite pain of his teeth on your flesh intensifying the smoldering embers between your legs into a searing white-hot flame of desire.

"Dabi..." you whined loudly, rolling your head back, resting it against the wall, slipping one of your hands into his hair.

His impatient hands slipped under your skirt in a quest to discover your most sensitive spot. The intensity of his anger and desire surged as his hand encountered obstacles on its journey - your panties. Finally, locating the waistband, Dabi forcefully burnt your panties away, being careful enough to not hurt you. Free from the hindrance, his hungry fingers found what they sought.

Dabi inserted a finger into your wetness, gliding it upward over your swollen clit after finger fucking you for a moment, eliciting moans of ecstasy from you. Simultaneously, his lips continued their exploration, savoring the taste of yours, tracing a path from your lips to your earlobes and down to your neck. "Fucking little cunt," he sneered. "I'll certainly educate you on how I desire my birthday to be celebrated. Perhaps it will penetrate that thick, stupid skull of yours at last, you little whore."

Your moans of pleasure intensified, your hands exploring the contours of Dabi's body. His skin felt sensuous and super warm beneath your fingertips. Before long, your hands discovered his pierced nipple. Gently, you pinched it, coaxing a primal sound from Dabi's lips as he worked diligently on marking your neck, signaling to the world that you belonged to him.

The heightened arousal compelled you to push him away slightly. You replaced your fingers with your mouth after leaning forward, nipping and licking his chest. The tip of your tongue traced along his tensed muscles, whether concealed beneath healthy skin or adorned with scars and purple patches, relishing the taste that was undeniably manly and salty, yet sweet as nectar to your senses.

Dabi's fingers fucked you more, and had rendered you incredibly wet, your clitoris throbbing with anticipation, swollen with both pleasure and need. Seizing your chin in his hand, Dabi kissed you roughly, propelling you back against the wall. He then descended to his knees, lifting your skirt, and trailed his tongue up one thigh and then the other, savoring the juices that had escaped during the fervor of his fingers' endeavors.

Dabi's warm tongue resumed its task, leisurely stroking your sweet, swollen spot. He inserted a finger, moving in and out, synchronizing the motion with the skilled strokes of his tongue. His tongue circled around your sticky clit, while his finger worked diligently to pleasure your pussy. Suddenly, he sucked on it with a hunger reminiscent of a baby latching onto its mother's breast. Your moans grew louder, the sensation of his sucking propelling you closer to the edge, teetering on the brink of no return.

"Yes, Dabi, oh! Just like that!" you gasped, attempting to keep him in the spot to grind your pussy against his face, but Dabi swatted your hands away and rose to meet your gaze.

His eyes mirrored yours, smoky with unbridled lust. "Oh, no, no, little dirty slut. Not yet. No matter how you beg, you'll come when I say," he declared, denying you the release you sought as he asserted control over your pleasure. "Suck me off like a good slut and I'll think of rewarding you."

The overwhelming urge to taste the most manly of flavors had consumed you, leading your hands to fumble with Dabi's thick, white belt. Finally releasing it, the snap and zipper undone, you descended to your knees in front of him, pushing down his dark pants. Dabi's hardened member sprung free, pulsating with the burning lust, a little pearl of precum adorned the slit of its tip. Your cheeks reddened upon noticing the piercing just beneath the tip. Your tongue explored his shaft, moving around and under, tracing the prominent vein, finally reaching the head and swirling around it. It was moist, and the salty flavor was a delightful sensation, spilling all over your tongue. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you took him between your swollen lips, bobbing your head back and forth eagerly, moaning around him.

Dabi's sharp intake of breath signaled the pleasure coursing through him as he felt your lips on his dick. "That's it, dirty whore, suck that fat cock."

You sucked and licked, the intensity of his moans guiding the rhythm of your movements. The sweet labor of tasting your boyfriend drove you into a state of pure ecstasy.

With a resounding pop sound, you withdrew his dick from your mouth, using one hand to jerk it, spreading your saliva across the length of his shaft. Pressing the erect member against his abdomen, you then lowered your head to cradle his heavy balls in your mouth, delicately pressing on them with your tongue.

"Fuck," he growled, closing his eyes for a moment. "You're a fucking whore. My private fuck toy. You're nothing more than a whore, spreading your legs so willingly f'me right now. Look at you. And two days ago you were whining that you're not ready to let me fuck you just yet. Pathetic."

His lewd words elicited a moan from you as you resumed the task of sucking his cock. Ensuring to swirl your tongue around the head, you then proceeded to kiss along the vein running beneath the shaft before you pushed his dick back into your mouth, bobbing your head eagerly.

Suddenly, Dabi reached down, seizing your arm and pulling you up. "Enough, cunt. Time to fuck that pretty, little cunt, yeah?"

"I am so ready for you to fill my belly with your fat cock, daddy," your words quivered with desire.

Dabi grinned wryly. "You're a pathetic bitch, princess. You think with your fucking cunt. So disappointing."

Pressed against the wall, Dabi gripped one of your legs, lifting it up. In one fluid motion, he drove his cock deep inside you, easily bottoming out in your pussy.

"Dabi!" Your scream of pleasure echoed long and loud as the painful stretch overwhelmed your mind.

He lifted your other leg, picking you off the floor, impaling you against the wall, never losing the rhythmic, frantic thrusts.

One of your hands glided down from Dabi's shoulder to your wet clit, skillfully massaging it as he thrust into your pussy. He felt like a white-hot spear inside your pussy. You and Dabi stared into each other's eyes. Both your hands now rested on Dabi's shoulders. You arched your back, rolling your hips in his embrace to synchronize with each of his strokes. "More, more, more!" you begged, your tone pathetic.

Dabi encircled his arm around your ass, using his free hand to deliver a sharp slap to your face. "Look at me, bitch! Look at me!"

It proved challenging for you to maintain focus on his face, especially with every forceful thrust causing the aggressive tip of his cock to brush and nudge all the right spots deep within you. "I… I can't, D… Da…"

He didn't allow you to finish your sentence, responding by slapping your other cheek. "I. Said. Look. At. Me!"

Moaning unabashedly, like a cheap whore you apparently were in that moment, you gazed at him through teary eyes. The singular thought that occupied your mind was the anticipation of his cum, filling you to the brim.

Dabi intensified his rhythm, his buttocks flexing with each forceful thrust. He nibbled on the column of your neck, emitting guttural grunts. "Fucking bitch. Your cunt belongs to me. You belong to me. You fucking naughty whore."

In the final few thrusts, as Dabi's movements became increasingly erratic, he reached the peak of his release within the warmth of your pussy. "Take it, bitch, take it, take it," he growled through gritted teeth. The temperature of his skin soared, accompanied by wisps of dark smoke and the faint scent of burning flesh as he briefly lost the grip on his Blueflame quirk.

His hot seed spilled into your pussy, intensifying your own climax as your pussy clenched tightly around his throbbing shaft. "Dabi!!!" you screamed, the overwhelming sensations pushing you to the brink of consciousness, making it difficult to catch your breath.

Dabi lowered one of your legs, and then the other. Clinging to each other, you leaned against the wall, neither trusting your legs to support you. Dabi's semen mixed with your juices slowly traced down your shaking legs, leaving a trail of slickness in its wake.

Dabi cradled your chin between his thumb and forefinger, planting a tender kiss on your lips. "Now, you've been the good girl you are, princess. Satisfied with the fucking celebration?"

You trailed a series of soft kisses along the contours of his sharp jawline. "Yes, but… are you still upset with me, Dabi?"

Dabi scoffed, theatrically rolling his eyes. "No. I fucked away all the stress, yeah?"

"You burned my favorite panties," you complained, making a sad face.

He leaned down to hoist his pants back up, tucking his flaccid cock back into its confines and adjusting them before fastening the belt. "I'll buy you a new pair, just stop whining."

Dabi flopped onto his bed, sliding both hands under his head as he gazed up at the cracks on the ceiling.

Climbing onto the bed, you curled into a ball by his side, resting your head on his chest, attuning yourself to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I'm sorry for riling you up."

"It's fine," he grumbled. "Let's not talk about that, doll."

A few moments of silence hung in the air before you whispered, "I just want you to know that I genuinely love you, every fiber of your being."

Dabi remained unresponsive initially, but after a prolonged and piercing silence, he wrapped his arm around you, leisurely stroking your shoulder. "Thanks, doll face. I love you too."

#dabi smut #dabi #dabi x reader smut #touya todoroki smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #bnha dabi #anime smut #bnha smut #dabi fic #mha dabi #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #dabi fanfic #mha smut #divider by cafekitsune

[intheholler]

classist discourse is getting a lot of traffic to the blog, and so i wanna make something clear:

this blog is for the river rats. for the rural dwellers who go to "town" for what they need; it's 45 minutes away and everyone calls it "town" because it has the closest food lion.

it's for the box fans and the ceiling fans and pipe dreams of central AC in july. for the "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" and the resulting wild, untameable hair.

this blog is for the patchwork quilt your mama made you and the one her mama made her and the one you wished you learned how to make for you and yours. same goes for them buttermilk biscuits your mamaw made that you kick yourself for never watching her make closely enough.

it's for those who know the difference between "sweet tea" and "tea with sugar in it." this blog is for the pintos and biscuits, for kids whose dads would pull the tobacco from their cigarettes to place on the wasp sting you got running barefoot in the fields.

it's for the banjos and the folklore and the folk songs, for that gorgeous mountain drawl that colors the lyrics. it's for every monosyllabic word that you speak with two syllables and it's for every time you've ever been insulted for it.

this blog is for anyone from appalachia or the south who ever hated themselves for where they were born, and especially those who tried to hide it.

it's for the ignorance of our youth, for the hate and racism we were taught, but now fight loudly against.

it's for every queer person who grew up in the hollers violently hating themselves because they thought they had to. everyone else did.

it's for the ones who left that church one day and never walked back into it, and it's especially for the ones who still secretly worry they're going to a hell they don't even believe in for it.

it's for the southerners who have ever been insulted or invalidated just because there are no Gs on the ends of any of your words.

it's for every appalachian who has been failed by the education system and it is especially for the high school dropouts.

this space is for yall. it's not for who they think we are.

#i won't let it get polluted #appalachia #appalachian culture #txt

[queenofmistresses]

Adam’s third wife

A/N hi guys! First hazbin hotel fic, I did a vote and many of you chose Adam x reader so here we go! Let me know what you think and I’ll be able to do a part 2!!

There was a knock on the hotel door and Charlie excitedly rushed to answer it- there had been more and more sinners coming to the hotel wanting to try redemption ever since the last extermination, and she was excited to meet the next one! The last thing she was expecting however was this, Adam (first man, original dick, remember him?) standing at the door looking like he hadn’t slept or eaten in a week. He probably hadn’t. He looks panicked, he looks scared.

“Charlie sweetie is everything okay? Do you need any-“ Lucifer walks over to the door where they’re standing and sees why Charlie isn’t excitedly touring the hotel, and his eyes begin to turn red, clearly angry.

“Please.” Adam says, out of breath and looking like a guinea pig standing in the middle of a busy road. “You have to help me find her.” He begs. Lucifers eyes widen and go back to their usual colour, and Charlie looks down at her dad in confusion.

“What makes you think I know where she is? And if I did, why in hell, would she want to see you?” Lucifer responds, the picture of composure now he knows why Adam is here.

“Please. I know she hates me. But she’s all I have left.” Charlie is still looking down at Lucifer confused, silently asking what is going on.

Lucifer rolls his eyes. “So once again she’s a last resort, I see. You didn’t deserve her then and you certainly don’t deserve her now.” Lucifer begins to shut the door before Adam presses his foot in the way.

“I know. I’ve regretted it all since she left but how can I fix it if I can’t even find her?” Lucifer still looks like his mind is made up but Charlie looks at Adam, at his sad and helpless face and can’t help but pity him.

“Dad help him, that’s what the hotel’s for, right? What if he can change?” Lucifer looks up at his daughter and sees how much hope is in her eyes, “If he’s come back as a sinner he’s one of our people now right?” She points out.

He looks over at Adam again who is looking just as pitiful as before. “Fine, you can come inside and I’ll help you.” Lucifer begins to open the door, “but if you try to hurt anyone in here, you’re out okay? This is your only chance.” Adam nods violently, swearing he won’t hurt anyone and walks in behind Lucifer and Charlie.

Lucifer tells him to stay in the lobby while he deals with ‘something’, leaving him in the hands of Charlie and every other person he saw at the extermination. Shit. “So who are you trying to find?” Charlie asks, grinning up at him as Vaggie walks over, wrapping her arm around Charlie’s waist protectively. At Charlie’s question she looks up at Adam, seeing his nervous face and smirks.

“Really? You think she’ll want to see you?” Charlie looks at her and her mouth drops, clearly hating the fact that 2 people know something she doesn’t.

“No. But I have to try right?” Adam mutters out, embarrassed.

“Vaggiee tell meee.” Charlie begs and Vaggie throws her a playful eye roll and smile.

“Adam’s on the hunt for his ex.” She says smugly, making Adams cheeks heat up. Charlie looks even more confused.

“Eve?” She asks, to which Vaggie shakes her head. “Well surely it’s not my mother, no one seems to know where she is, so my dad couldn’t help.” She thinks out loud. “He has another ex?”

Vaggie nods affectionately and god does Adam want to leave, he’s been alone too long to watch this. “They didn’t meet til he died, she’s heaven born, but she fell.”

Now he wants to leave even more, he can feel Vaggie glaring daggers into the side of his head, he can’t look at them, ashamed. “What happened?” Charlie asks softly, and Vaggie sighs sadly.

“That’s her story to tell, and his I suppose but he’d never admit what really happened. You should ask her when your dad speaks to her.”

Things feel awkward after that, everyone in the lobby had clearly heard the conversation and he felt ashamed. Mostly about what he had done all those years ago. He thought about it often, he thought about trying to find her in the exterminations but couldn’t bring himself to it. He didn’t want to see the pain on her face again. He couldn’t bear it.

Lucifer came back and walked over to them, and Adam looked at him with the smallest glimmer of hope. “I can take you to her. She might not want to see you, in fact I would say it’s more than likely she doesn’t but I can take you there.”

“Thank you.” Adam breaths, he can’t believe he’s thanking Lucifer, the devil. But if it means he can see her again, he would do almost anything.

Lucifer takes them to his castle, and Adam feels a pang in his chest at the idea that she’d stay with him, but he wasn’t surprised. They had been friends before he fell, so it was only natural that she went to him for help. Charlie seems confused about being her, which Adam thinks is extremely interesting but can’t bring himself to dwell on it when she was right on the other side of those doors.

They all walked into the empty looking place and Lucifer snapped his fingers turning the lights on, to a dull light, muttering at how ‘she’ doesn’t like it bright. Adam remembers that about her.

Lucifer calls out her name loudly, announcing he’s back. “Lucifer! Hi! I’ll be down in just a moment, what’s the surprise you texted about??” A voice yells back. Adam, Charlie and Vaggie all shoot Lucifer a look, why had he said he had a surprise?

“It’s down here, come and see!” He yelled back before muttering, “don’t get too excited…”

“What was that last bit?” She yelled again before she appeared at the top of the stairs. And then she froze, staring at Adam. “Well that’s a crap surprise.” She deadpans, making Vaggie and Lucifer have to stifle their laughter back. “I was expecting a new duck.” She raises an eyebrow towards Lucifer as she walks down the stairs.

“I didn’t say it was a good surprise.” Lucifer tries to save himself as y/n gives him a look telling him to shut up.

“You must be Charlie.” Y/n smiles walking up to her and shaking her hand. “Your dad talks about you a lot.” She whispers and winks at Charlie.

Y/n immediately draws away and pulls Vaggie into a tight hug. “It’s been too long,” she says as she pulls away, “though I have to say I was sad when I found out you’d been banished here too.”

Vaggie smiles softly, “It’s okay, I found something better then anything up there.” She indicates towards Charlie with a soft smile, making Charlie visibly melt. Y/n smiles in complete understanding and steps back as Charlie pulls Vaggie into a hug and clutches onto her.

Then she approaches Adam and her smile drops suddenly. “Hello Adam.” He looks shocked for a moment before remembering he’s being spoken to and stumbles over his words, bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

“I- er, um, hi y/n.” He finally settles with, looking sheepish. “Ho- how are you?” He asks quietly. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“I’m fine. Clearly better than you.” She looks up and down is figure, and brings a hand up to his hair to take out a stray twig caught in the mess. Adam watches her every movement with complete awe, looking surprised she’s touching him. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t…” He starts, then seems to rethink. “I needed to see you.” She scoffs and looks away rolling her eyes.

“7 years later? You do remember why I’m here right?” He nods and averts his eyes again, looking at the floor.

“I’m sorry.” He says which leaves her stunned. Her eyes widen and she looks over at Lucifer as if to check she hadn’t imagined it to happen. “I didn’t mean for it to happen the way it did. I didn’t know Sera would-“ he sighs. “I made a mistake.”

“That’s an understatement.” To that Adam nods, not saying anything. “So what? You wanted to say hi? You’ve done that now.”

“I wanted to know you’re okay. I know you hate me and I deserve it but I’ve wanted to find you everytime I’ve been here since it happened, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. But, you’re okay?” She nods. “Good, I’ll um… I’ll go.”

He turns away, starting to walk away when she sighs, “Wait.” She says and he stops turning back towards her, looking confused. “You won’t survive out there, you look like you’ve been sleeping in the streets since you arrived. If it’s fine with Lucifer you can stay here tonight and I’ll find you someone to stay. Somewhere else. Away from me.”

“You’re sure?” He says, eyes wide with hope. She looks over at Lucifer who nods at her and she looks back at Adam and nods. “Thank you.” He smiles nervously.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Honesty (Daemon Targaryen × Reader)

Summary: In which Prince Daemon seduces his unwilling Lady Wife.

Warnings: Smut. Dub Con/ Non Con. Oral sex (F receiving), P in V sex. Stark reader. Convenience Marriage. No use of Y/N.

A/N: First time writing for Daemon. Reader is the oldest sister of Cregan Stark and acts as his regent. Might write the full story one day. High valyrian from an online translator, not explaining it because I wanted the reader to not know the meaning.

The shift was white, silky, and oh so tiny. You stared at it with contempt. It had cost you a pretty penny, as had the cosmetics Lady Manderly had so eagerly pushed into your hands. Red tint, she had said, to paint your lips and enhance your natural attributes in other areas. The woman had even had the nerve to point at your breasts!

It was ridiculous, this whole thing. Had you been born a man, there would be no need for this nonsense. Had you not been born a Stark, it would still be happening, but perhaps in not such a brutal way. Or had you not been tempered by the cold, made so brazen to insult and oppose Otto Hightower, perhaps your punishment wouldn’t be marital rape.

Still. It was your duty, and you intended to perform it. It was the only way to keep Cregan, Rickon and Sara safe. And you would do it. Prince Daemon, your lord husband, as he insisted you called him, could surely get the deed done faster with the proper incentives.

You took off your gown, having been previously unlaced by your trusty maid. You put on the dreaded, lacy shift. The latest fashion in Dorne, you had been told. For how expensive it was, it certainly was made of little fabric. You glared at your reflection, watching how the long sleeves had a vertical cut that made them useless. Your skin broke out in goosebumps, as you wished you could add more wood to the fire.

Some rustling could be heard outside your room and you panicked. You were running out of time. The tint! Made of some berries, you hoped didn’t poison you. You quickly rubbed it on your lips and cheeks, trying to seem less like the terrified girl you were and more like an appealing sight. You sat down, primly, on the foot of the bed just in time for Daemon to enter the room.

“Wife.” He rumbled, coming to stand in front of you. Daemon had docked his furs and armor, his sword no longer rested at his side, just as your agreement dictated. He had come to you unarmed and barefooted, yet it didn’t make him cut a less intimidating figure in the least. His purple eyes looked at the tint with curiosity, and plucked it from your hands. “Getting ready for me? I’m touched.”

You glared at him, trying to hide how much nerves pooled in your stomach, how you were cold from fear, skin clammy and pale.

“If I must…” You shifted to your hands and knees, and lifted your shift, exposing your naked folds and arse. It was quite the vulnerable position, and heat started to spread almost immediately to your cheeks and neck. You hated the humiliation it brought you.

Daemon’s breath hitched. Clearly affected by the sight of your prone, soft body, on the bed. “What are you doing, zoklītsos?” His hand went to your exposed folds, finding you as dry as the sands of the dornish deserts. You nearly jolted at the touch, and only his hand on your hips kept you in place. It was not a good omen, you had gathered, from nights spent exploring your body before the cold and worries had turned you into the frigid ice queen the lords in the South accused you of being.

“Go ahead. Do it.” You closed your eyes, keeping them tightly shut, and braced yourself for the pain. Daemon tsked, his warm palm caressing your bottom.

“Hells, you have been deprived.” He pulled your shift down, covering you.

“I do not understand.” You frowned, looking at him over your shoulder, still on your hands and knees. “This is right, I know. I have seen animals do it.” Your tone was of absolute confidence, petulant, even. To you, it was one of the facts of life. The sky was blue, the sun rose in the west, and fucking was done on one’s hands and knees, with the man behind you. It cracked Daemon out. He snorted, hands still busy fixing your shift. It soon turned into a full-blown belly laugh, at your icy glare.

“Poor little wife, your previous lovers have done you wrong.” He palmed at your ass. You hated how the warmth of his palms made you shiver. Good gods, how was he so warm, barefoot as he was and in only a linen shirt? You wanted to kick at him, at the offense of your virtue, perhaps make an icy comment, but you were frozen in shame. “Unless…” Daemon’s hands moved to your stomach, urging you to get up on your knees. He pressed a kiss to your exposed nape when you did, as if rewarding you. Stubbornly, you tried to escape his grip, but he only hugged you tighter. “Oh, what a treat you are… The gift that keeps on giving, zoklītsos.”

“Shut up and get it over with.”

“Don’t be like that, little wife.” He kissed your jaw, tenderly, and when you moved your face away from him, Daemon adapted and started kissing a path down your exposed neck. “You wouldn’t like that, sweet innocent virgin you are. I would tear you apart, and that's no fun.”

“Oh, by the…” You muttered, exasperated. You tried telling yourself that the red of your cheeks was out of rage and not embarrassment. Used as you were at being the smartest one in the room, you deeply disliked how out of your depth you were here. It was not your fault, being uneducated on these matters. Orphaned when you were a lady just flowered, there had been no time for anything else but caring for your siblings. “Why must every woman you meet burn for you?”

“Because I am the blood of the dragon. Heat is in my veins.” He mouthed at your shoulder, this time. His kisses felt like a trail of fire down your body. It was… Waking feelings you didn’t wish to have. Nipples pebbling, hairs standing up, pleasant shivers and all. You breathed in and out, trying to control yourself. Daemon pushed the sleeve of your shift down. “My proper little wife. My ice queen. You will melt, in the end.” He kissed back up and towards your ear, whispering, cruelly. “They all do.”

Your breath hitched. A slip. The first of the night. You could feel Daemon’s smirk against your skin.

“Do you really want to find out how the fire in your veins meets the ice in mine?” You remarked, coldly. It was an attempt at projecting a bravery you did not feel. Bravado. Nothing more. And Daemon could tell.

“Fire can melt ice.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on your throat. With the way he held you, curling and uncurling around you, Daemon reminded you more of a snake than a dragon. You felt as if you were in the grip of a boa, constricting around you, robbing you from your air, leaving you breathless. It was wrong, being so excited at being the sole focus of such a predator. But heat was pooling between your legs, you were getting embarrassingly slick.

“Ice can put out a fire.” You warned, one of your hands going to his silver locks and tugging. You got exactly the opposite reaction of what you wanted. Daemon’s eyes closed, expression turning into a delightful mix of pleasure and pain.

“Only a fool would meet your ice head on.” He kissed your sternum. You remained as still as a sculpture. He tugged at the sleeves, until they gave. There went the dornish shift, ruined forever. You felt a distant rage at having wasted so much gold on it for him to rip it apart. Daemon drank the sight of your exposed chest eagerly, seemingly entranced. You tried covering yourself, but he grabbed at your wrists.

“I think not, Lady Wife.” Then, very tenderly, he pressed kisses to the top of your breasts. You whined, low in your throat. It felt good, and he had no right, no right at all, to get your body to betray you like this. “You see… A tiny flame, if constant, can begin…” Daemon kissed lower, encircling your areola, purple eyes gleaming with mischief. “To melt your ice.” And with that, he took your nipple into his mouth, making you let out a little scream. You squirmed, feeling more wetness gather between your thighs. If you wanted to keep your dignity, you had to get away from him. But Daemon’s grip wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard you tried.

“No… I… Husband… Please. Please.” You begged, shame so deep you were nearly in tears. How it was that easy for him to take you apart, you didn’t know. Despite your pleas, his tongue circled your nipple, his lips making nearly a vacuum around it. His hand came up to pinch at your other nipple, warning. “I don’t want this, please. Just… Just…” But whatever you were saying got lost into your moans, until you were unable to know if you were asking him to stop the sweet torture or give you more of it.

When your tears started to fall in earnest, Daemon let go of your breast with a nearly obscene slurp.

“What is it, zoklītsos? You don’t want the attention of your Prince?” You nodded, and he gave you a mocking little coo. It almost made you think he would stop. Almost. If not for his hands, bunching up your shift until you were exposed once again. Under the candlelight, your cunt glistened with how much wetness you had produced. You tried to close your legs, but he kneeled, forcefully keeping them apart with his torso.

“No. I doubt that's the problem.” Daemon rubbed a finger against your entrance, not putting it in, but just pressing. “I think my little ice queen is melting. A big puddle, she is turning into.”

“You think…” You got cut off by a moan. Daemon had found your pearl, and it seemed he knew exactly what to do with it. “Yourself so smart. Smug…” He pushed a finger inside you, making you yelp, and effectively unable to finish your sentence.

“If you still have coherent thoughts…” He pulled away from you, taking his shirt off. Your eyes immediately were pulled, as if by magnet, to his chest. He had a warrior’s body, muscles all functional. Deliciously broad shoulders, toned stomach with the slightest hint of definition, yet still slender in the way most Targaryens were. Closer to gods, indeed. He bent down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your stomach, making you squirm.

“Lord Husband…” You warned, noticing how his kisses started to approach your privates.

“Lady Wife.” Daemon repeated, with a mocking tone. Then, he curiously pressed a finger against your button. This time, your hips bucked, and you were unable to quiet the moan that slipped from your parted lips. “Such a pretty cunt you have.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Oh, but where is the fun in that, zoklītsos?” He spread you apart, as if opening up the petals of a flower, gentle but so casual. “If I wanted a quick fuck, I would have taken one of your servants, or found myself a whore.” Daemon leaned down and licked a strip over your cunt. In your haste to muffle a scream, you brought one of your hands to your mouth and bit down on your palm until you tasted blood. It was the oddest feeling, a line of scorching hot electricity on your exposed sex. “I intend to enjoy you. As often as I can. That’s why I accepted marrying you.”

“I don’t… I….” You muttered, but you weren’t really opposing him anymore. It was impossible to think about anything apart from what he was doing, of how his heat and wanton ways were starting to warm your blood too. Daemon kept licking at you, making your hips twitch. He was entirely ignoring your pleas, apparently finding great pleasure in the way he took you apart.

You felt like you were burning up, as if something that had been long asleep in you had started to be awakened. Long hidden and forgotten desires that were making themselves known. You found yourself looking down, mesmerized by the sight of the blond shock of hair between your parted thighs and how it bobbed up and down with each eager lick he took. Your hand reached down, tangling in Daemon’s hair, and it was then, you got pulled over the edge.

Daemon would later say it had been the way he had groaned against your pearl, what had made your thighs quiver and tummy tense, an impossible amount of wetness dripping down your thighs. You would say, if asked, it had been the way his purple eyes met yours, mouth still busy at devouring your cunt and face twisted into the most smug and deviant expression you had ever seen. Whatever it was, it pleased him greatly.

“I knew you had it in you. You weren’t cold.” Daemon whispered against your skin, kissing a path towards your mouth. He was unhurried, dedicating lavish kisses to your hipbone, moving to mouth along your belly button, gnawing hungrily at your ribs. Under him, your body went lax and pliant, spent with the first climax you had experienced under his careful touches. “You just needed a dragon to warm you up.” He licked at the sweat collecting in the hollow of your throat, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips.

This time, you answered. You took his lower lip between yours, playfully. You could taste and smell yourself on him, and it was more alluring than what you had ever thought.

“Good.” He said, pulling back. He started to undo his breeches, and you felt panic grip at you some more. This was it. You had to fulfill your end of the deal with him, let him take you. As if he could feel your nerves, Daemon rubbed your thigh, affectionate. “Do not fret, zoklītsos. You will enjoy this, too.”

“It is meant to hurt.” You answered him, pouting. He tapped at your lower lip, gently.

“Put that away, before I have to bite it.” Daemon took out his cock and rubbed it up and down your folds, gathering the wetness. Despite your fears, a wave of desire overtook you. His fingers had felt good, so had his tongue. You wondered if this, too, could be pleasurable. Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many bastards being born in Westeros, right? But you were supposed to bleed. Bleeding was not pleasant, ever.

“I…” You grabbed at one of his hands, holding on for dear life. He may not have been your choice of husband, but he had vowed to protect you under his gods, standing in the sand and mixing your blood with him. Daemon took his valyrian vows seriously. You were desperate for any scraps of reassurance he was willing to give, even if in normal circumstances you would have rather died than be helped by him.

“It won’t hurt.” Daemon said, kissing your forehead. You looked up at him, eyes wide in fear. He squeezed your hand and lined himself up. You felt the tip of his cock nudge at your entrance, and wondered what it looked like. It felt blunt, and it was very warm. “I will do it on one thrust, like ripping a bandage off. You probably don’t have your maidenhead, with how fond you are of riding. And if you do, you are more than wet enough.”

“Lady Manderly said it hurt her, the first time.” You pouted again, and this time, he did good on his promise. He leaned down and kissed you, biting at your lower lip playfully.

“She has a fool for a husband.” Daemon muttered, kissing your ear. You shivered, nearly mewling. You weren’t aware of how sensitive you were there. “Trust me on this. I know more about it.”

“Taken many maidenheads?” You remarked, with a hint of a teasing smile on your lips.

“Jealous, ice queen?” Daemon licked a strip down the base of your neck towards your jaw. “You will have to admit you know little of the topic.”

“I would say I know plenty.” You answered, glowering, just as he thrust inside of you, seemingly tired of the conversation. At the sudden feeling of fullness, you yelped. But there was no pain, as he had promised. Only an odd feeling of being stretched and filled to the brim, and a slight discomfort. “Rude.”

Daemon smirked. He stayed still, letting you time to adjust. You took a deep breath, and shifted to rest your weight on your elbows, to take a curious look at where you were joined. To your disappointment, you could only see a cloud of light hair, mixing with yours, hips impossibly close.

“Did it hurt?” Daemon flicked at your pearl, absent-mindedly. He groaned when that made your walls tighten around him.

You glared.

“No.”

“You silly girl.” He laughed, starting to thrust. The friction felt good immediately, and you moaned, grabbing at his shoulders. “And you thought fucking could only be done on your hands and knees.”

You didn’t answer, choosing instead to cling to him, mouth falling open in moans you were unable to keep quiet anymore.

“Fucking is a pleasure.” Daemon insisted, pinching at one of your nipples, You whined. He could be telling you the secrets of the realm, and you wouldn’t care. “And I will teach you all about it.” He grunted in your ear.

You were too gone to care about his smugness. Your heels dug into his back, pulling him closer and closer. You met him thrust by thrust, scratching at his back until your nails were bloody. Daemon kissed you and tugged at your hair, desperate to claim you. You could hear his silent laughter, feel his mocking smile against your skin. He had finally gotten what he wanted, a reaction out of you. It could not be faked, this pure, raw emotion. Soon, his fingers found their way to your button, making you whine and squirm. It was too much for your poor, abused body. You screamed his name as you reached your second peak of the night.

Daemon thrust several more times, practically vibrating with smugness. He grabbed at your body, fingers digging in the flesh, surely bruising your hips. His mouth was slightly parted, and something stirred in you at seeing him so raw. Daemon had been right, you realized. Many moons before, he had said bodies spoke and were honest in ways their owners were not. And so, you let yours speak, tugging at his hair, sucking bruises in his pale neck. Perhaps there was something there, in the way he held you closer, shuddering and spilling himself with a muffled cry. Something that mere lust couldn't explain.

You both laid there, panting. Daemon looked down at you, and brushed your sweaty hair out of your face.

“I think, Lady Wife, that the coldness of the North might just be bearable.”

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x y/n #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x female reader

[the-writer-arrived]

Dan Heng NSFW Alphabet

Synopsis: let's take a peek on how your lover is in bed, shall we?

Character: dan heng.

Warnings: afab!reader; reader is part of the astral express but isn't the trailblazer; spoilers about dan heng's past and his companion mission.

A/N: in celebration for dan heng imbibitor lunae release (finally!!), i give you all this! may our dragon boyfie come home to all who wants him <3

(p.s. that mf made me lose the 50/50 💀 his light cone better come home 😭.)

(edit: IT WORKED HIS LIGHT CONE CAME ON THE 31 😭😭😭😭)

This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dan Heng's nickname in Belobog's fight club may be "Cold Dragon Young", but he's anything but cold to you especially after sex.

After your sexual lives began, Dan Heng made sure to always have a box of tissues, a towel and a bottle of water at hand's reach.

He prefers to do the deed in your room instead of his since, you know, it's the Express databank...

Therefore, those things are usually inside a drawer of your nightstand for easier access to the both of you.

Also cuddling is a must for him.

On days Dan Heng is feeling particularly clingy, he will wrap his arms AND tail around you, not minding the feeling of your sweaty and sticky bodies.

But don't worry, he will take you to the bathroom to clean you and him in the shower/bath, before returning to bed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If someone had asked him that before he got together with you, he wouldn't know what to answer.

Now, however, he'd answer his hands.

Curiously enough, you've always been fascinated by Dan Heng's hands.

You loved holding it, playing with his fingers, saying they were so soft, even softer than your own!

You also loved dragging him to the sleepovers in March's room, which you would paint your boyfriend's nails while March would do the Trailblazer's.

Now, about his favorite body part of yours, it's an easy answer: your neck.

It goes hand in hand with his kink (or rather, instinct) of marking you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums an embarrassing (to him) amount.

Although the Vidyadhara can't have offsprings, they still are a dragon species and, considering Dan Heng has a much closer conection to the water dragon he controls, his instincts are stronger than others of his kin.

Yes, this is just a roundabout way to say he has a breeding kink

It's usually thick and gooey, but when he's in heat, it becomes more watery.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When you joined the Astral Express, you were sure Dan Heng disliked you.

Although he was never outright rude to you during the (very few) interactions you two had in the beggining, he would never be in the same room as you.

Himeko assured you that the young man was just shy, but even she was at a loss at that unusual behavior of his.

Dan Heng was avoiding you, yes, but it wasn't because he hated your guts or anything.

It was because your scent was driving him crazy.

The second he landed his eyes on you, your scent invaded his system and every single fiber of his being was being pulled to you.

But he couldn't, he shouldn't. There was too much danger in his life.

But by the Aeons... He had to do something, or else he might lose his mind.

So, when everyone in the train was asleep, Dan Heng would let his thoughts be consumed by you and guide his hand to his shaft...

He would rather go through molting rebirth again than admit he did such debauchery to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

My guy has been in the Shackling Prison ever since he was born and after being banished from the Luofu, he had to keep looking over his shoulder for a psycho who's out for his blood.

It's suffice to say that Dan Heng doesn't have any experience in relationships or sex.

Please have patience with him, he will fumble but he really wants to make you feel good :(

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I believe Dan Heng would prefer positions which he can see your face, be it directly or through a mirror's reflection.

What he must have, however, is access to your neck, his favorite body part of yours as mentioned on B.

So, if you do positions like cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, you can expect to have a restless (dragon) lover under you, squirming for wanting to have you closer in order to mark your pretty skin.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's definitely not one to be funny in bed... intentionally, that is.

Have you seen him throwing peace signs when the Silvermane Guards were pursuing the trio in Jarilo-VI?

Or him doing that when March took a photo of him next to the High Elder statue on that short animation?

Or even the things he says with the most poker face ever?

Anyway, what I mean to say is that Dan Heng is funny without trying to and that (unfortunately to him) sometimes happen in bed.

He will huff while you're giggling with yourself, before bringing you back to the right mood with a searing kiss.

What were you laughing at again? I don't know, maybe you should focus on those hypnotizing eyes darkened with lust staring down at you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As said on E, Dan Heng doesn't have much experience in relationships, therefore never really worried that much about pubic hair.

After joining the Express and having a safe place to be, he would groom himself and trim a bit just so it wasn't too much or too long.

Now that he's with you, he likes to keep his bush small and very well groomed, so it won't bother your nose when you suck him off.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

His draconic instincts aside, Dan Heng really, really, REALLY enjoys keeping you in his arms.

99% of the time you guys "make love" instead of fucking.

This is the first time in his life (as Dan Heng) that he feels utterly safe and conected with someone in so many different aspects.

When he says "I love you" during the deed, it comes from the deepest, most precious part of his heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Honestly, he used to masturbate more before you two got together.

Again, he will never tell you that or, at least, not any time soon...

Now? It's rare for him to do it.

If he's in the mood, usually you are as well.

Sure, mutual masturbation is hot and all, but he'd much rather be inside your warm and inviting pussy.

The only time he'll jack off is when you are away from each other in trailblazing missions.

You know Dan Heng will try to hold off touching himself until he can go back to the Express, but he becomes soooo snappy and with a permanent frown on his face.

So, please, send him some photos of you or audios to break his resolve and make him relax a little until he returns to your side.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As mentioned in the very begginning of the list, I am 100% sure Dan Heng has a breeding kink, even if he can't procreate.

It's such a filthy sight, your hole fluttering after he pulls out, your mixed fluids leaking from it... A voice, primal, in the back of his mind telling him he should push it back inside or, even better, stuff you with his cum once again...

He can't get enough of it.

Also, you won't leave the bed without at least a dozen marks on your skin.

Bites, hickeys, marks of his fingers for gripping you too tightly... You'll see all of that and more on the morning after.

Your boyfriend is considerate enough to not leave them on places you can't hide with your clother or make up.

...Unless you made him jealous on purpose or has been teasing him throughout the day.

I guess scent kink is also a thing for him.

You almost make him delirious with lust when you're on your ovulating period.

Praise your guy to your heart's content, it works wonders when you want Dan Heng to let loose and fuck your brains.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

No matter how horny he is, Dan Heng will only touch you on the privacy of the bedroom.

Preferably yours since he doesn't really have a bed on the Data Bank Archieves.

Which is fine, considering he basically moved to your room.

The reason for that is the comfort and sense of security the private space gives him.

He doesn't have to be on alert for any kind of danger and can give you his undivided attention.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Call him corny, but it's when you show him you love him.

For most of his life, he has been followed by the shadow of Dan Feng and his deeds, both good and bad.

Even after Jing Yuan revoked his banishment from the Luofu, there are still many people, especially the Vidyadhara, who look at him with contempt.

Not to mention Blade hunting him through the universe to make him pay the price for his Dan Feng's sins.

So, when you cup his cheeks, stare at his eyes so softly and tell him you love him for who he is, not the shadow of his precious reincarnation...

His heart can't barely handle all the feelings that well up inside.

Dan Heng tries his best to show you how he feels by the breathtaking kisses and relentless pace of his hips snapping with yours, with chants of your name like a devotee does to their beloved deity.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If you enjoy feeling a bit of pain in bed, I'm sorry to tell you, but Dan Heng refuses to do anything that may cause even the tiniest bit of pain to you...

Okay, it's not like he'll NEVER do it if you do enjoy it, but it'll take a lot of coaxing and reassurance.

His worst nightmare is to hurt you in any shape or form.

One thing that he will not do, no matter what, is share you.

So no threesome with Blade, sorry.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I see Dan Heng as the giver type, to be honest.

Not that he dislikes you sucking him off, far from it!

He just adores being nestled between your thighs, your drooling cunt on his mouth...

And if you convince him to eat you out on his Imbibitor Lunae form? It's a sure way to send you to heaven.

Grab his horns like your lifeline, it will make him moan into your folds and grind his cock onto the bed.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

On normal days, the pace is slow but deep.

No matter how much you ask, beg, demand for your lover to go faster, he won't and it drives you crazy (in a good way).

He's addicted to the way your core tightens around his member like a vice when you're so close to the edge.

Only then he will concede to your wishes, so you can cum together.

When he's in heat? Good luck walking tomorrow soldier 🫡

Each of his thrusts are so deep, so fast, so hard, but never deep enough, never fast enough, never hard enough to satisfy his desires.

I hope your bed is strong enough to survive the whole night.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't like it.

To Dan Heng, being physically intimate with you requires a process, a moment when the two of you tune out the world and just focus on each other.

Like I said on P, he likes to take his time with you, to really feel every single inch of you.

Sure, there are times when both of you are too horny to wait until you are in the comfort of your bedroom and there's too little time to spare.

Even so, quickies don't satisfy him completely.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Another thing that he doesn't enjoy it.

Dan Heng is a bit self conscious about the thought of other people hearing or, Aeons forbid, see you two doing it.

A spoiler for the V part, but this guy isn't exactly quiet during the fun 🤫

That's one of the reasons why doing it on a public or semi-public place is a no for him.

Using a vibrator though, especially on him, now that's something that may happen.

Again, it'll take some coaxing from you, but there's a bigger chance of him agreeing in the end.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Even when Dan Heng is in his human form, his stamina is above average.

When he's in heat? Again, good luck walking tomorrow.

If it was up to his draconic desires, he would go all night without a break.

Fortunately for you, he can hold on to his senses enough to remember that you would not survive if that happened.

You'd die happy, but he doesn't want to lose you.

On the morning after, you two are "gently" reminded by Himeko and Welt that there are other passengers on the Express and everyone would very much like to sleep in peace ✨

Poor March had to sleep over with the Trailblazer in their room, which was the furthest from yours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Our boy knows what a dildo and a vibrator are on theory, never tried them himself.

You'll have to be the one to introduce them in the relationship, if you want to.

I see Dan Heng as a switch, leaning to the sub side tbh.

With that in mind, I believe the toys are used more frequently on him than on you.

His favorite is those vibrators that can be controlled by a phone app, it's discreet and you can keep your partner on their toes.

His collection isn't big, maybe he owns two or three at max.

His first sex toy was one of those male masturbators, a gift from you.

Poor guy was so confused on what the hell that thing was (totally understandable, some of those look like a blender???).

Needless to say that his face turned red in no time after your explanation.

It doesn't come close to your hands and mouth, but it does a good job when you two can't be together for whatever reason.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If there is someone who loves to tease to hell and back, it's you.

You can't help it! Dan Heng looks sooooo adorable, trying his hardest to keep a straight face while a pink tint warms his cheeks.

Your teasing can go two ways: you may have him whimpering and begging for more under you OR he will retaliate and have you whimpering and begging for forgiveness under him.

In any case, you see it as a win in your book ✨

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

*Me, speaking into the mic.* Dan Heng is a whimperer and whinier.

*The crowd boos and I leave with my head down.*

She's right! *There is a yell coming from the back.*

*It's you, with Dan Heng dying from embarrasment next to you.*

Jokes aside, I do believe our Cold Dragon Young isn't loud per se, but a whimperer for sure.

He's embarrassed by that, so he does all he can to keep his sounds at bay.

When he's in Hot Dragon Young mode, he'll do a 180°.

Embarrassed? Shy? Quiet? Not Vidyadhara Dan Heng.

He growls, he moans, he curses, he straight up purrs the more he pounds and bullies your pussy with his cock(s).

Yes, he has two, it's a consensus between writers and artists.

Please gift everyone in the Astral Express ear buds, they will need them.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Despite having a breeding kink, of course Dan Heng is aware his species isn't fertile.

He knows there are no chances of him creating a new life by the conventional means of procreation.

And yet... Watching you interact with Hook and the other children of Belobog... Watching you hold Bailu in your arms...

He can't help but daydream of the 'what ifs' and 'would be'.

If he could, he wonders what would your child be like?

Would they look more like you? Or him?

Would they have similar personality to you or him? Perhaps a mix of both?

Would they inherit his draconic features?

...Would they have a long life span like him?

...Would they still be by his side, after your passing..?

...Will he even be able to handle to live a life without you once again...?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I am terrible at describing things, let alone dicks of fictional characters, so bear with me OTL

Okay, so, it's been established that Dan Heng has two cocks. Good? Good.

I like to think that they also change when he turns into his original appearance.

Human Dan Heng: only one dick, but still has a bit more length than average, on the thiner spectrum, slightly curved upward

Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng: two dicks, a growth in girth to leave you full but not stuffed, the veins are more proeminent.

How does one describe a pretty dick? Idk, but it's the first thing that comes to mind when you see it.

He's a pretty guy after all.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I know I've talking about his heat period like a broken record, but that's because watching aloof characters becoming crazy with lust makes me absolutely feral 🥴

But honestly? Among all the Honkai Star Rail men, I see Dan Heng with the lowest sex drive.

Not that he isn't interested in you physically, far from it! He adores your body and when you show it off to tease him, it's always very effective.

It's just that I see he has bigger emotional needs than sexual needs in the daily life.

Lover boy can go two, three days without having sex with you just fine.

It depends more on how is your sex drive.

If you ask him, he'll gladly go down on you whenever you wish.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dan Heng will only fall asleep after you do.

It comes from a desire to protect you from anything and everything.

He won't allow himself to completely rest until you are fully comfortable and in deep sleep.

Only then, he will kiss you on the forehead and bring you into his arms, giving you a sense of security you won't be able to find anywhere else in the whole universe.

#blue.writes: honkai star rail #blue.writes: dan heng #blue.writes: smut #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng smut #honkai star rail smut #minors dni #not suitable for minors

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Could I request Aegon II x wife!reader, where after B&C but before Rook’s Rest, Aegon and wife!reader are stressed by the war and loss and blame each other, and end up sorta hate-fucking/make-up sex on the small council table. Knife kink would also be a plus.

Misery & Forgiveness.

PAIRING: King!Aegon ii Targaryen x Queen!Wife!fem!Reader

WORDS: 1,351.

WARNINGS: references to grief/loss [of a child], mourning, mentions of death, p in v sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, degradation kink, swearing, knife kink, breeding kink, angst!!!!!!

A/N - in light of the official trailer and seeing my angsty anguished man, this request seems very fitting to write for. let me ease your mind baby 💖🙏🏻 also belated little birthday shout out to one of my dearest friends on this hell site @bucknastysbabe thank you for putting up with my shenanigans and changing my life, ily xoxo

Mayhaps if Aegon had been there, if he had only just stayed in the confines of the Keep, his presence, a formidable one, by your side and the accompanying guards at your ever close bay, mayhaps, your firstborn son would still be present... Breathing.

"It's your fault, Aegon... Your fucking fault."

The arctic tone in your broken voice was tangible enough to make Aegon tense. Lke venom to a wound, his body stiffened with each word you had uttered.

It felt as though time had ceased since the awful, bloodshed night: gradually losing any ounce of sense, struggling to recollect except for fragments of the tragedy itself. The torment deranging your mind, with the thickened concoction of grief, sadness and rage. Rage you inflicted towards no one other than Aegon, himself. The same Aegon, who had proclaimed his everlasting love and duty towards you, and the children you may bear in future. A man that took his place as King, and ultimately his royal vows before the omnipresence of the Gods and man, who promised to protect, preserve and honour your place as his wife.

There was once a time, you had undoubtedly believed this: clinging to his every word with such certainty. Only to be led astray with the brutality of reality.

"His blood, Aegon... His innocent blood is on your hands. Make no mistake, the guilt you bear will be a punishment the Gods see fit—"

Desolately, you sat slumped amongst the furnished, wooden seats of the once purposeful Council chambers, which now felt as though the vast hollow and emptiness of the room itself, was nothing beyond a swallowing void, with no other purpose than as proving to be an empty room amongst the many strewed along the endless, stony corridors. In your bare hands, the torn, lifeless fabric, the same cloth that your beloved eldest born had worn that same night, laid carefully sprawled against your lap. Remnants of maroon messily stained across the soft fabric: twisted as it was, the realisation that his scent still remained lively brought a wave of reassurance and calm over you. A warmth that you had once felt when you would, or could, hold him in your arms.

"My baby boy—"

"Ours... He was our son, Y/N. You do well not to forget that you are not the only one grieving."

The naked palms of your hands stung raw against the sturdy timbre of the table. Radiating what felt like the heat of the past year's summer, seeping with vexation. Standing your ground, as you steadily focused solely on your defeated husband sat upon the opposing end. Aegon had an odd way of displaying any emotion that was not remotely intertwined with lust or desire. He loved you, you could not deny this nor did he ever expel the love for his children, however when it came to the raw, harsh realities faced by the cruel hands of the Gods... Aegon was a different man.

"Fuck you! May the Gods sentence you to fucking Hell, Aegon. For the crimes you've committed to this family. For the torment you've elicit unto us. Failed not only as a King, though as a father..."

With a sudden snap of his neck, a rapid instinct to his movement, Aegon reciprocated his attention towards you. Glaring at you since you'd been summoned into the council chambers. Although his violet eyes seemed foreign, as though they belonged to a strange onlooker. For the manner in which he saw you now, was one he had never invoked before. Aegon often looked towards you with lust, love and affection. His gentle eyes seemed to exhibit a persistent warmth onto you, and yet now... His presence was ever so chilling.

"Is that so? Is that truly what you think of me?"

Despite the sincerity in your words, silence was all that you could muster. With now merely droplets of grief swelling in your eyes, as you weakly let them stream down... How the Gods could be so cruel, for how much of your son was mirrored in Aegon's face.

"Come here," the unwavering note in his husky voice was deceitful enough to compel you to do so, finding yourself standing before the man you embraced as husband.

As Aegon stood formidably, his hand slowly noticed towards his waist, before pulling out the dagger that had rested on his belt in its leather red sheath.

Trepidation had succumbed, taking a step back in reluctant defence, although Aegon's free hand had gripped your wrist instinctively, holding onto for dear life.

"Do not think that your words will go unpunished just because you are my wife... Need I remind you of the etiquette you are to show me. The respect I'll surely fuck out of you."

Your heated breath felt retched with each heave, feeling the very effort, the sheer contraction of your muscles enabling each breath. Aegon's lavender orbs paralleled mesmerising remnants of amethyst, and yet cut just as sharp: lingering over your meek body, with a certain morbid lust.

Lifting the blade to your exposed chest, where your gown was subtle enough to tease at your accentuated bosom, its chilling steel blade petrified you, as though a winter blizzard had vanquished you. Even the very act of thinking, you had thought, would unsettle Aegon. Without so much as a warning uttered, he seized your preserved state and carved open the dress and corset with it, with a precision that proved Aegon just as much as an efficient striker as his younger brother.

"Hmm, my wife... The whore with a sharp tongue and pretty face. And these tits—"

"A-Aegon, not now—" You shakily whimpered: the hand that remained firmly gripped on your wrist, had now snaked its way around your body: with the other still tied to the dagger, explored, tracing every fine curve and crevice of your exposed front.

"Now you wish not to argue, is it? What's changed? Too stupid to fuck and fight at the same time, my sweet thing? Is this how I get you to shut up, dearest? My fat cock in that tight cunt of yours is enchanting enough for you?"

"A-Aeg, o-our baby— I-I n-need you, more than ever—"

The flat surface of the Valyrian blade had now reached further below for your liking, yet ever so cautiously with his lightest touch, hovering the glacial, flat blade over your entrance.

"Ughmf— Making a mess on your Grace's heirloom, huh? The slut that you are for your King, yes? Oh, the things that I let you get away with Y/N... Now let your King fuck the misery out of you."

Disposing the blade with a haste and harsh throw across the table, the loud clatter of it hitting against the wooden surface: Aegon's free hands, with a ferocious and swift motion lifted you atop the edge, as he hastily undid his trousers. The hard bulge had been a distinguishable sensation throughout the discourse, intentionally pressing and grinding himself against your lower abdomen and hips, needily sapping for you to feel him in his vulnerable state.

"If the Gods see it fit and bless you with another babe, it would seem that the Gods have not yet rendered me a pitiful father... And I shall prove it to you."

Vigorous thrusts that rendered you feeble and shaky, succumbing to his every bit with each overpowering movement: craving for more as his fat, pulsating cock dug itself deeper inside of you, feeling it make its burrow deeper into your cunt, deep within the pit of your stomach almost.

"Fuck, Y/N! I-I failed you, f-failed this family... L-Let me make it up now... Good girl, good slut—"

The hot mess spoiled below, spewed across your meaty thighs and Aegon's, and yet as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, caving over you as his hulking weight dropped over you with a warmth and protection that you had been yearning for since your loss.

"I meant it, Y/N... Forgive me, do not think— That I wanted this for us... Take my word, or take my life."

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1 @darylandbethfanforever9

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11

credit for the divider - @/benkeibear

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii imagines #aegon ii imagine #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii angst #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x fem!reader #aegon ii x y/n #hotd imagines #hotd fanfic #TGC #king aegon ii #king aegon ii targaryen

[surielstea]

No one, But you

Based on this request.

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader feels as if she isn’t cultivated enough, Cass comforts her.

Warnings: Slight insecurities | mention of a pregnant reader | pure fluff

2.1k words

The cold wind nipped at my cheeks as I walked along the cobble stones of Velaris.

My mates hand intertwined with mine, the only thing heating me up. Cassian and I were doing some last minute shopping for solstice presents, he had four bags on his right arm and in his left, his fingers were busy being intertwined with mine, refusing to let me carry anything.

Amren is the only person we have yet to buy anything for, so we had one more stop at the jewelers before going home.

It wasn't often the General of the Night Court roamed Velaris so casually, especially not with me. It was rare I went out at all, but with Cassian? That was once in a year. I was a quiet person, liked to mind my business and hated being approached by strangers. So I typically left the house with Azriel or Amren, civilians knowing better than to talk to them. But Cassian, he was a seven foot tall beacon of light practically calling people to gawk at him, and they did.

I was young, only a century or so years old and had nothing on Cassian. He'd had enough stories to fill a library, all before I was even born. We mated nearly a decade ago but still, people were lost on who I was or what I was to any of the Inner Circle. Even if I liked to keep my peace it had some negative sides too; for example, every girl I've ever met thinks Cassian is single.

Which has become glaringly obvious now that I've become attentive to it. The cashier that bagged our gifts wouldn't peel her eyes off of him, even when he was talking to me.

At another store we bumped into a gorgeous female who Cassian supposedly bedded for a few nights in his twenties.

We walked along the streets and people straight up ogled at him, ignoring me at his side. I didn't want the attention, but it'd be nice if I was at least noticed.

Palace of Thread and Jewels sat on the bank of the Sidra that was frozen over this time of the year. Cassian reached out and opened the door for me, letting go of my hand as I entered the toasty shop.

Neve, a dear friend of Rhysand's, stood behind the display of gems and jewels, she was one of the only people outside the Inner Circle who knew of me and Cassian.

"Neve, afternoon." I smile at her. "Hello you two, shopping for Amren I presume?" Her glowing eyes flash with knowing and I shyly smile. "Have the rest of them already been here then?" I tilt my head and she nods. "I'm certain it's your group that keeps my shop in business." She claims and I shake my head with a small breathy chuckle. "Though we did just get a new collection in, the delivery men were just here I have yet to even unpack the items." She admits and my brows shoot up. "We'd like to see those." Cassian's arm slings over my shoulders. She gives both of us a smile before going into the back room.

I look at the display while I wait for her to return, peering down at a pair of tear drop ruby earrings that reminded me of Cassian's siphons. They matched the wedding ring on my left hand, I twisted it subconsciously, fiddling with the red gem. Cassian seems to notice, his eyes trailing to what I was staring at.

Neve returns in a flurry of shadows, carrying a long display shelf filled with large rocks and gems, placing it on the counter in front of us. I take in the collection, eyes glancing over every glimmering stone, freshly polished and gleaming like a star. Then I halt when coming across a black diamond bigger than my fist and most likely more expensive than an entire months’ paycheck. But this is the one.

Cassian seems to get the hint. "We'll take this one." He gestures to it, learning from last time not to touch. "Splendid." Neve smiles and plucks the gem up with a gloved hand before wrapping it and placing it in an ornate box. "Anything else?" She arches a brow. "That's it—" I begin. "Those ruby earrings as well." Cassian interrupts, pointing towards the jewelry I wanted. "Cass, it's too much." I shake my head with creased brows but he only waves me off and nods his head at Neve. She smiles and fetches those from the display, placing them in their own box with a delicate white bow tying it all together.

Cassian paid without so much as a blink while I grimaced in the background, the price far more than I had in mind— and if Cassian is buying me stunning earrings just because I looked at them, it made me wonder what he got me for solstice.

I had yet to tell him I'm pregnant, planning it all out so the last gift he opens tomorrow night will be a small pink pacifier. I was nearly a month in, barely even showing so Cassian hadn't noticed. We had been trying for a child for a few months now. I've had my scent glamoured and Madja told me last week we're having a girl, I was so excited I nearly told him, nearly came home and attacked him onto the floor with the amount of pure joy I was overwhelmed with.

But I maintained it, telling the shadow singer instead— who was the only person I knew could keep their mouth shut, the spy-master happened to be awfully good at guarding secrets. Lucien found out as well, somehow able to see through the glamour on me with his whirring golden eye.

We left the shop with a farewell to Neve and I wrapped my hands around his bicep as I look up at him with a bright smile. "You didn't have to do that." I say and he shakes his head. "It's all worth it for that smile." He hums, not watching where he's going as he mindlessly stares into my eyes. "Thank you—" My words are cut off by Cassian's head whipping up and pulling me back from a group of girls who were about to run into me. "Sorry ladies," He nods, flashing them a polite smile that could easily be mistaken for something else. "We don't mind." A blonde blushes as they pass by us, giggling amongst each other. "That was weird." Cassian mumbled as he continued our walk home, pulling me along.

Was he really so oblivious to not notice that every single one of those girls were prepared to open their legs right then and there for him? So blinded that he didn't even notice the way any of them looked at him?

Something like dejection overwhelmed me, perhaps Cassian should be with girls like that, girls who radiated pure joy and high energy, not someone's who's social life consisted of a close circle of friends and occasionally a shopkeeper.

Every girl I've met who used to have a thing with my mate has always been the sheer opposite of me. Perhaps that's what he preferred, just settled on me because we're cauldron willed, mates. Sometimes I thought that fate got it wrong. He was too good, too fun and upbeat, the life of the party. I couldn't be further away from the Generals type. He needed someone who has just as much experience as him, someone who loves to go out and dance until daylight— not someone who cuddles into bed with a book and a cup of tea.

His hand squeezes mine and he tears me from my thoughts, looking up at him confused. "Did you hear me?" He asks and I curse myself. "I'm sorry," I shake my head no. "Don't be sorry. I said, do you want to grab food or are you ready to go home?" He raises a brow and I swallow. Wondering what he truly wanted.

"Is it okay if we go home? I'm tired." I admit and he nods. "Of course sweetheart." He smiles down at me, I was foolish to think he'd ever want something I didn't, foolish to think he'd ever want someone other than me, but still, those thoughts lingered in the back of my mind at a constant.

Once arriving back to The House of Mist, food is already on the table. The residence seemingly knowing my growing cravings because every dish on that table held breakfast food. "Pancakes for dinner then?" Cassian hummed and I blinked, then shrugged.

I sat myself at the table as Cassian went to our bedroom to put down the gifts. I quickly thanked the magic House for the meal and it replied by placing a plate in front of me, eager to help me in any way it can.

I stack a tower of pancakes onto my plate, then nearly drowned it in maple syrup sourced from the Autumn Court. My mouth watered at the meal and Cassian returned, freshly changed into lounge clothes before sliding into the seat beside me, plating his own meal.

"I wonder what sort of crazy gift Mor will get me this year," Cassian thought absentmindedly and I shrugged, still a little down from my lingering thoughts— though the pancakes helped. "What's got you down, my sweet?" His knee nudges mine and I glance to him, his eyes searching my features for any clue as to what's wrong.

"It's hard to explain," I shake my head, looking back to my plate. "I've got time." He excuses and a sad smile tugs at my lips. "You're just very, experienced." I try to simplify but his brows crease, clearly confused. "Forget it." I mumble, picking up my plate and carrying it into the kitchen, he's quick to chase after me.

"Talk to me sweetheart," He pleads as I place my dish in the sink. "Please." His words seem to kill any doubt I have and I turn to him, looking up, and up, into his warm, hazel eyes. "It's just, when we were out shopping today you got approached by ten different females." I explain and he blinks.

"Which is fine, I know that's not your fault but— I don't know, they all seemed so exotic and fun. Seemed like the kind of person for you." I shrug and his gaze softens. "Oh my love," He sighs, hands going to mine, guiding my palms to his jaw. "There's only one person for me," He shakes his head, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Mates or not, I truly believe you were made for me, and I for you." He hums. "And there's something so attractive about the fact that I'm the only male you've been with." He purrs and I roll my eyes with a flush. "But if you think for even a second you're not the one for me then you've been lied to." He rules, finally pressing a kiss to my lips.

"Opposites attract right?" He arches a brow and I shake my head with a soft giggle. "You're awfully nice to me." I say with a meek voice and he presses another kiss to my lips, his mouth slotting over mine and fitting me like a puzzle piece. I smile against the action and pull back with a wide grin. "There's my pretty girl," He whispers, hands on my cheeks as his thumb brushes over my bottom lip.

"Solstice is tomorrow." He reminds and I nod. "Did you get me something special?" He flutters his lashes. My hand subconsciously goes to my stomach. "Maybe," I say evasively, twirling out of his grasp and walking down the hall. He whined and wrapped his arms around me, his heavy body being dragged along with my movements down the hall.

He’s been trying to coerce what I got for him for days now. "You're relentless." I roll my eyes. "Just tell me." He groans and I shake my head. I've held out about being with a child for a month now, he'd have to wait one more day.

"Sorry Cass," I shake my head, leading him into our bedroom as he continues to drape himself over me. "Why don't you distract yourself by preparing for your annual snowball fight?" I offer and his arms snap away from me, scowling as I recall his losing streak.

"Maybe you'll win this year, General." I wink at him with a smirk and he grumbles a curse, flopping down onto our large bed then opening his arms for me. I smile and crawl into his embrace, allowing his large muscular arms to twine around my body as I pulled a book from my nightstand and opened to the page I was on.

Perhaps I didn’t need to be fun or exotic, maybe he liked the tranquility of all this. He pressed a reassuring kiss to arch of my neck, peering over my shoulder as he read along with me.

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #sarah j maas #x reader #bat boys #request #acomaf #cassian x fem!reader #cassian x reader #cassian #lord of bloodshed #x you #fluff #acotar fluff #suriels tea