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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

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Aegon bathing and asking his wife to join him

It's been so long since I posted anything about HotD. Have you seen the trailers? I'm so excited for the new season!! This one has been in my wips for a long time, but I kicked myself to finish it today to celebrate the upcoming season

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You entered the ensuite of your and Aegon’s shared bedchamber, hair unpinned and cascading down your back. Outside your quarters, they were always pinned into a braided hairstyle, concealing their true length to the court’s eyes. It’s good to have a distinction between the way a lady presents herself to the people and what is only for her husband’s eyes. Your day dress was replaced by an emerald green silk robe with dainty broderies along the lapels, a gift from the queen, given to you on your and Aegon’s wedding day. It was beautiful.

‘’There you are,’’ you said, seeing Aegon in the tub, steam rising from the scalding hot water.

His eyes shifted to you, the corner of his mouth curling when they fell on your attire. He poured more wine into his cup, splashing some water over the side of the tub due to the movements. ‘’My wife is a sight for sore eyes.’’

His speech wasn’t slurred, but it would soon be if he continued drinking.

You offered him a soft smile in response to his compliment. ‘’And my husband is about to be drunk.’’

Aegon grinned. ‘’I’m perfectly sober.’’

You shook your head as you approached, then sat on the stool by the tub as he bathed. ‘’If you’re sober, why is this pitcher almost empty?’’

Aegon laughed. He was caught.

‘’Will you be joining me in the bath?’’

He wished he could spend every night of his life just like this — just you and him, alone with one another. No more worrying about his duties as first son of the king and heir of the throne. No more worried about needing to produce heirs. Neither of you were ready to raise children, but his mother kept making subtle hints that a babe was needed soon.

‘’It depends.’’

Aegon leaned back in the tub and took another sip of wine, enjoying the warmth enveloping his body. ‘’I wouldn't mind some company,’’ he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, standing up and untying the sash of your robe. Under, you had on a nightgown made of the same material, but in a lighter shade. It had delicate thin straps and almost touched the floor. You until the ties of the straps and stepped out of the nightgown, which made Aegon’s mouth curl into a smirk.

Carefully, you stepped into the tub and lowered yourself to sit opposite him.

Aegon's gaze lingered on you, grateful that you were his. To his eyes, there was no woman more beautiful than you. Without a word, he reached out and gently took hold of your ankles, pulling your feet closer to him until they rested against his thighs.

Before getting wed, you had heard the whispers at court about how Aegon wouldn’t make a great husband. How he could never be faithful to his wife as he was always frequenting brothels and sleeping around. How cold he was emotionally.

He wasn’t like that with you. Everything that had been said turned out to be wrong.

‘’How long can we stay here?’’ he asked, his fingers tracing patterns along your calves.

You smiled at his touch, allowing yourself to relax. Despite the rumors and whispers that had surrounded him, you knew the truth — Aegon was kind, caring, and fiercely devoted to you. No one could compete with your beauty. He also had a dirty mind and a slight drinking problem, but you knew how to deal with him.

‘’As long as we want,’’ you replied, running your fingers through the water. ‘’We are not expected anywhere until the morrow.’’

Aegon sighed. He hated duty. ‘’Sometimes, I dream of a life where we can be together like this, without the weight of our titles pressing down on us. A life where we can choose our own path, without the expectations of others. I…I don’t want to be king. Unfortunately, my whole future has been planned before I knew how to speak.’’

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen @naty-1001 @katiepie67 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester

#aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aegon targaryen

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void-tiger · 2 years

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…but what if I wanted to show it?? Before rambling about it! What bout that???

#tiger’s musings #grumbles #…I am cranky and bored #also have the comfiest robe ever #problem? wellllll apparently my robe’s listing is either VERY deep buried under bullshit in a clunky shopping app or online #or. no longer exists.#and I wanted to show it!! rUDE :U #but yeah. I have a long sleeved near-ankle length (on me. i am tol) squashy robe. with a hood. and star pockets. and a star squashy zipper #if I were better at Art I’d draw dream in it and sweatpants. because it’s comfy and the drowned cat deserves it #while just. glowering. exaggerate the length so that it’s trailing behind him too #maybe a mug of steaming cocoa #it’d be a wholeass mood. also it amuses me #(and like. this is the same guy who often just wore those bunched ankle sweatpats with a vneck tee and bedhead in the comics)#(so yeah. absolutely rocking gothic formal wear of every era. but also. the man loves his sweatpants. it’s awesome.)

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its-not-a-pen · 4 months

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YOU CAN YOU UP: Zhuzhi Lang character redesign! because every deadbeat demon lord needs an adorable emotional support snake sidekick/nephew!

ok full disclosure im so obsessed with the original Scum Villain art i want to print it out and eat it. but i did feel like a lot of the characters have really similar faces, which made it difficult for me to tell them apart, and Zhuzhi Lang's design in particular was way too basic which is a huge missed opportunity for fun character designs! I thought his outfit should reflect the supple and flowy movement of a snake, so i went with a Han Dynasty dancing girl outfit with a nice leafy green pallet, just like his namesake, the bamboo. when he moves, i picture him gliding around silently, and no one has ever seen his feet.

[ID 1: Sketchbook art of Zhuzhi Lang from Scum Villain Self-Saving System, a page for each picture. The first shows a full body sketch of his more humanoid form done in black marker and watercolor. His pose is bent and curves to show a snake-like posture, he wears green robes with snakes curling up and around his arms, his hair goes down in a long almost ankle-length braid. Notes pointing around his figure, say, "Cobra shaped hair (hides his lack of ears)" Points to sleeves, reads, "Han Dynasty sleeve dancer inspired outfit (hides snakes)," points to around his ankles, reads, "moves like he has too many bones (or not enough)." Three sketches to the side show black and white face shots, one showing him coyly looking over his shoulder with his tongue flickering out. The second shows him ugly crying. The third is fully teeth bared, a mouth of sharp teeth showing, hair flaring out around him. Then below the fully body is a pencil sketch of him noodle waving, labeled, "silly time!" End ID 1 of 2]

[ID 2: Sketchbook art of snake form Zhuzhi Langf. The top one a full body illustration of snake form with black marker and watercolor, showing a green snake with long black hair growing from his head and a snake body partially contorted with a more humanoid torso and bone structure in the middle, despite otherwise seeming very full snake. He basks in the grass with a bit of foliage overhead. The we get into pencil snake sketches below that, showing a Chinese Cobra, full body, with a close-up of a snake face with some straggly hair to one side, and then the back of the snake head not seen in the full-body to the other side. Labeled, "Chinese Cobra Naja atra." End ID 2 of 2]

#svsss #zhuzhi lang #my friend gave this big pack of copics for my birthday and i finally got around to using them <333 #scum villain #scum villain fanart

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florencemtrash · 5 months

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The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Five

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: Gore, violence, some angst

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Meryl struggled forward, trying to keep from tripping on his floor-length robes. A head of ivory hair trailed out after him at a leisurely pace. A blood red hand at her side gripped a slick shortsword. The blade mimicked the cruel curve of her horns.

You remembered her from the party.

Teal silk and blood and the lake.

Koschei.

His hand dove into the folds of his robe, withdrawing a dull knife. You caught her smile before she dodged Meryl’s swift kick, sword arching down in a swing that cut cleanly through his back leg.

You didn’t stay to watch the second swing that nearly separated Meryl’s head from his shoulders. The street was still eerily silent.

Meryl hadn’t gotten the chance to raise the alarms.

You ran to the other side of your apartment, knocking one of the windows open. The smell of smoke, acrid and bitter, flooded your nose. Your stomach turned, nearly emptying itself of your dinner.

A blanket of haze covered the bottom floor, the flickering of flames beginning to lick up the outer edges of the massive room.

The Alcove - your home - was on fire.

Your apartment was built separately from The Alcove with no direct path linking the two together. Normally you would simply walk down the stairs and enter through one of The Alcove’s main entrances with its hand-carved archways and stone pegasuses. But with the murderous female lurking outside, that was simply not an option.

You pulled the neck of your sweater up and over the lower half of your face, ignoring the stinging of your eyes. You steeled your nerves and slid your foot out, finding purchase on the decorative molding that lined the walls. Many times you’d thought about scaling the walls instead of trekking down dozens of flights of stairs. You’d never actually done it.

The soft skin of your palms protested as you shimmied your way down and then jumped the last ten feet onto the walkway. There was no grace in your movements, and no time to dwell on the rough landing before you began flying down the stairs, begging the Mother and Meryl to give you time to cross the expanse of the library.

Meryl’s apartment lay on the opposite side of The Alcove on the first floor, and unlike your apartment, had a door leading directly to the stacks. The white rune, carved into Meryl’s door, stared at you like the eye of a god.

Some vague myths about ancient giants crossed your mind. They’d been worshiped in these lands before the rise of the High Lords with brains so vast you could climb in through their ears and walk amongst the grooves like a child in a corn maze. You felt like that child now, the familiar turns and patterns of the atheneum slipping away into mist.

You had no patience to walk the last flights of stairs. You threw yourself off the lower walkway, ankle twisted painfully beneath you as you crumpled onto the floor.

Just make it to the door. Just make it to the door.

The first duty of a Librarian was to save the atheneum. Always.

Again that white rune stared at you from across the floor, winking with the flashes of firelight as the flames gorged themselves on book pages.

Save the Alcove.

You ignored the pain in your leg, running towards the door with gritted teeth. Three bodies littered the floor, blood blossoming around colorful robes like roses in springtime.

Save the Alcove.

You wrenched the knife from the sliver in the wall, slicing your palm open with a sharp intake of breath. Warm blood spilled out, dripping onto the floor and then down the wall as you pressed your palm against the rune, muttering the words all Librarians knew by heart - words that would seal The Alcove from the outside world and draw all oxygen from within.

“Beali tchnemonon aschzernai belar-” The rune began to glow, rivers of white light tracing the carving on the door. The doors began to groan as threads of magic shot outward, weaving through the stone and preparing to seal it shut.

“Stop. Say nothing.” A voice said, soft as velvet and hard as scales.

Your tongue froze up, the rune dimming as teeth sank into the soft flesh of your mind and began to tear through your mental shields.

___________

Azriel chewed carefully, washing down the meat with a swig of sweet wine. All throughout dinner Helion had been glowering at him, one hand gripping the golden hilt of his steak knife like he was prepared to aim it between Azriel’s eyes.

“Did you spend the whole day with her?” Feyre had asked him when he’d finally arrived for dinner twenty minutes late.

Everyone else was dressed in their court attire. Even Cassian had changed out of his leathers and was currently pulling at the high collar of his shirt. But not Azriel. He’d arrived late in plain clothes, hair disheveled and face impassive. He gave a nod in response to Feyre’s silent question before settling down beside Cassian. His brother threw him a knowing wink.

Rhysand looked pleased with himself. Feyre looked pleased. Everyone was pleased… everyone but Helion.

“Finally! The Shadowsinger arrives!” The comment rolled off his tongue and fell flat, “Now we can eat.”

“I apologize, Helion. I lost track of time.” Azriel said truthfully. He had lost track of time. He wished he’d lost track of it for longer. Then he might still be in your living room, dreaming about kissing you.

Dinner was a business affair. Theories about Koschei’s next plans punctuated by the appearance of roasted chestnuts, soft-boiled quail eggs, honey rolls, and stuffed duck on the table.

“He can’t escape the lake.” Rhysand said, “Though the gods know he’s trying.”

“He can’t escape yet.” Helion countered, brows furrowed in concern, “There’s a piece we’re missing to this.”

“The Cauldron.” Feyre ran a lazy finger over the lip of her wineglass to disguise the unease settling in her stomach, “He’s searching for it.” She tilted her head towards Azriel, “Az found evidence that some of Koschei’s followers have been breaking into the temples further up north.”

Helion shook his head, “It wouldn’t do them any good to search an old hiding place. And it’s not like the legs of the Cauldron are with the priestesses anymore. They must be looking for something else.”

“What else is in the temples except old books and ceremonial artifacts?” Cassian asked.

“Old books can sometimes be the most powerful objects in the world.” Helion said with a small smirk, “I wouldn’t look down on them so much.”

“Tell that to a sword.”

“Tell that to a two-thousand page text thrown at your head.”

Cassian grinned, “I would dodge it. Easy.”

“With that inflated head of yours, I’d hardly be able to miss.”

Azriel smiled inwardly. That sounded like something you might say. Not even four hours since he’d last seen you and he was missing your gentle smile, the crease in your brows when you read, the occasional jangle of your bracelets when you shook out the cramps in your wrist.

Feyre thought long and hard, staring at the surface of her wine like the answers might materialize there. She couldn’t get her mind off the Cauldron. The most important events that had taken place in the last fifty years could be tied back to its magic. The magic that currently flooded through Nesta and Elain’s veins.

With its power anything seemed possible - even separating a deity like Koschei from the lake where he’d been confined for centuries.

“What if they’re not looking for the Cauldron itself?” Everyone looked at her, waiting to hear the High Lady’s next words. “What if they’re just looking for something tied to it?”

Cassian dropped his knife to the table with a clang.

“Nesta.” He breathed. He immediately reached out across the bond, feeling Nesta stir on the other side. She was still safe in Velaris, although he pitied any poor soul that tried to go after her.

“Or Elain.” Feyre continued.

It’s no secret they were Made. They wouldn’t need to break into a temple to figure that out or to find out where they’re staying. Rhysand sent his bonds down the bond, one hand reaching out to rub her thigh.

Nesta and Elain could handle themselves, but that didn’t mean Feyre could shed the protective nature she’d developed through her formative human years.

Who else then? Who else has taken power from the Cauldron?

Jurian.

He’s human. He has no magic that Koschei could want. And the human queen has been long dead too.

Helion glanced at Cassian who only waved him off. Rhys and Feyre did this often - getting lost in their private conversations and only sharing their thoughts at the very end.

Meanwhile, Azriel was having his own private thoughts.

Immunity, the innate biological process of recognizing and protecting against foreign entities, is a phenomenon that can be extended and applied to magic.

“How does it apply to mating bonds?” Azriel asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room.

The fire crackled steadily, warming your back as you sat hunched over a volume titled “An Exegesis on the Works of Bhenaui The Stone Giant”.

“Hmmm?” You mumbled.

He pointed to the last page of your paper where an introductory sentence on mating bonds had ended abruptly.

“You didn’t finish your thought.”

“Well, that’s because I’m not completely sure what my thoughts are… at least not yet.”

“Would you tell me your thoughts? Even if you’re not sure?”

You motioned for him to hand it over, the papers floating over to you on a phantom hand made of shadows. You flipped through the pages absentmindedly, your previous thoughts coming to mind as you held your work.

“Parents, children, siblings - they all tend to have similar forms of magic. Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Azriel nodded. He’d already read that section of your paper. Although the thought of sharing some magical connection with his half-brothers and father made his stomach turn, he couldn’t deny your logic.

“I always thought that mating bonds must be some special extension of that. Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

“Like the difference between two sets of keys, versus a key and a lock.”

“Maybe? I suppose that’s not a terrible analogy to make, but I’m not sure.” You shot him a smile, “You’re beginning to think like a Librarian, Azriel.”

His heart sang in his chest, shadows flurrying around him. You’d quickly learned that his shadows gave away more than his face ever would.

“What an insult to Librarians.” He quipped.

You snorted and shook your head, tossing a pen at his head. He caught it easily, just as you knew he would.

A faint flutter of panic grew in the background of his mind, unprompted and unexpected. He pushed it to the side, focusing his attention back on what you’d told him back at your apartment.

“Magic that recognizes family members the same way that blood does.”

Koschei had been brother to The Weaver and The Bone Carver - both dead after centuries, if not more, of confinement to The Prison and The Cottage. It didn’t make sense for him to be searching for them. Perhaps he wanted the Cauldron to bring them back from the dead, but even that seemed like the stretch. Koschei didn’t strike Azriel as the kind of being to care for the safety and life of his siblings.

If Azriel were in Koschei’s position, he wouldn’t be after the Cauldron. Not necessarily. The thing he’d really be dying to know was who had separated him from his power, and how.

“Magic that’s not the same, but perfectly complementary.”

Like a lock and a key.

“Uh… Azriel?” Cassian gently grabbed Azriel’s shoulder, shaking him.

Inky shadows climbed up his hand, the light of his red siphons swallowed up by the darkness that had begun to pour off of Azriel.

That panic was steadily growing into something he couldn’t ignore and he couldn’t stop thinking of you. You with your brilliant ideas and a theory that he still couldn’t quite grasp, like he was trying to hold salt water in his hands.

“Something-something feels wrong.” Azriel gasped out, a scarred hand clutching at his chest. “Cass, something’s not right. Something’s not right.” He repeated the words until he finally recognized what was wrong.

It wasn’t his panic that he was feeling. It was yours.

___________

You screamed, thrashing about on the floor as you gripped your head between your hands.

Get out. Get out. Get out.

You pulled at your hair, slapped your skull like that would be what it took for the female to relinquish her hold on your mind.

She was buried inside like a parasite - a virus slowly taking over the cellular machinery, copying it all down as she rifled through your memories as easily as a picture book.

You shrank away from her as she lingered on one memory in particular.

It was your fortieth birthday, although you didn’t look any older than eight. Helion sat on the floor, long legs extending beyond the cramped space between the fireplace and the couch. It was a small apartment you shared with your mother with its pale green walls and yellow daisy curtains.

He filled every inch of it with light. His smile was so dazzling you thought he must have been one of the fairytale knights you’d spent every night obsessing over. He certainly played the part, gifting you a wooden pegasus with wings that hovered a foot above the ground when you asked it to.

“You can’t keep doing this, Helion.” You’d stayed hidden at the top of the stairs, your pegasus nuzzling into your side and then going still.

“She’s my daughter, Leda. What am I meant to do?”

“You’re meant to leave us alone.”

“Leda-”

“She’s growing too slowly. You saw her today, she should be fully grown by now.”

“...I know.”

“If anyone finds out who she is… the power she possesses. Mother help us…”

“I know. I’m-I’m sorry, Leda.”

“You can’t keep doing this.”

That was the last childhood memory you’d had of him, and when the pegasus’s magic had worn off, leaving him stiff and immoble, the novelty of having a knight for a father had worn off too.

You were crying now, tears streaming down your ash-stained cheeks as the female above you clicked her forked tongue. Her eyes were two chips of moonstone split by wide, rectangular pupils.

“A High Lord’s bastard.” She sang with pleasure. “How fun.” She leaned down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking it up so forcefully you had to bite your tongue to keep from screaming. “No. No.” She clicked her tongue in disappointment, “Don’t stop. I want to hear you scream. Scream.”

With a roar of anger you latched onto her arm, immediately feeling a flood of memories and emotion pour into your mind.

Sick, twisted satisfaction. Pleasure. Meryl’s decapitated body hastily hidden behind a pillar. When she’d gone down into the lower levels of The Alcove, searching for the diary, she hadn’t expected to see him there. Hadn’t expected him to give her a hard time. Hadn’t expected him to fight back.

The three other fae, slaughtered in haste. Koschei would not be pleased. He would not let her join him on the lake. But she had the book. She had the book.

The female hissed, the disorienting motion of being in your mind while you were in hers causing panic. She’d been trained to keep others out of her mind. She’d endured far more training than you had. So why couldn’t she kick you out?

More memories. More emotions. Rising fear. You soothed it using the training she’d received. She wasn’t the virus. You were. You felt all her memories. The terrible aftermath of war on the continent. The feeling of being burned alive.

The female was trying to break away from you now, but you wouldn’t let her, not even as the smoke grew so thick it clogged your lungs. You felt her memories as if they were your own, and so long as she was in your mind, she was forced to experience it all as well.

His power is beneath the lake. Trapped. Buried. He can’t leave his soul behind. Can’t diminish himself any further. He can’t leave the lake.

Koschei.

The lake. What’s buried beneath the lake?

Andrian. ANDRIAN!!!

Get the key. Get the key. Get the key.

The scream of her brother’s voice as Koschei splits his head in two.

When your eyes burst open they’re so bright the female turns her face away, sobbing. Your blood soaked hand searches the floor for the knife you dropped, the knife you can see is less than a foot away. But you’re not looking at it. She is.

She registers what you plan to do. Every thought of hers reflected in your mind like a ghostly afterimage. But it’s too late.

You grip the knife in your hand.

Slam it through her eye and out the back of her skull.

It’s a strange feeling to be in someone’s mind when they die. To feel like it’s your body slowly fading from existence with one final breath.

The female’s body slumps motionless over yours, and her final memories of her brother play out one last time.

…Then it’s just silence and the crackling of the ever approaching flames.

When Azriel reaches The Alcove, the windows have all burst, angry tongues of fire licking the sky and gasping for breath.

“Y/N!” Azriel roars, shooting off towards the door so hard the cobblestones crack beneath his feet. “Y/N!”

White lights begin to splinter up the stone walls, filling invisible cracks that begin to take the shape of ancient runes. Swirls, symbols, repeating lines trace their way over the windows, sealing them shut as the flames start to hiss in protest, eating up the oxygen faster than they can draw breath.

The door has been blown apart, the inside of The Alcove nothing more than a hurricane of ash and smoke. But when Azriel reaches them, he slams into an impenetrable wall of magic.

“NO!” He crashes against the barrier. Light scatters outward, but holds against the shadows that burst forth from Azriel’s body. Power explodes from his siphons, but still the magic holds.

“Y/N! Y/N!” He flies up to the windows and tries again to no avail.

The bond is still there, burning away in his chest with a passion.

He will not lose you. Not like this. Not today.

He touches back down on the ground, legs braced on the street as blue light begins to wrap around his chest and arms. His shadows mix in with them like ink in a tumultuous sea.

He’s about to let his power flood out when he sees it - two dim pinpricks of light that pass through the barrier as easily as sparrows diving through the air.

You’re nothing more than a gray shadow, your knees and hands coated in a mixture of ash and blood, as you emerge from the roaring flames. Your eyes gleam a pale yellow, seeing and unseeing at the same time. You make it to the front steps and when you stumble, Azriel is there to catch you, one arm looping around your waist and you’re immediately thrust into another memory.

It’s dark and cold in the cellar. So dark that even after two days the most Azriel can do to prove he still exists is to slap his legs, then his arms, then his face. Then he knows he’s still alive. It’s the pain that helps him remember.

“Y/n. Y/n. I need you to look at me.” Your eyes are unfocused, still glowing as Azriel helps you walk forward, one hand clasping yours close to his chest. “Y/n. Y/n. Please. Darling, please.”

His mother sings to him, a gentle, sweet melody that’s filled with more sorrow than words. His hands are heavy with gauze and ointment, the lingering pain magnifying and shooting through his small body whenever he moves them to touch his mother’s face or to wrap his arms around her neck.

But this is the only hour he’ll get with her this week. So he ignores the pain. He savors only the feeling of his mother’s arms around his weak back and the song she sings, hanging onto every word and committing them to memory.

You’re vaguely aware of Helion’s deep voice shouting your name. When he touches you, you can feel his relief as acutely as the rumble of thunder before rain. The emotion rolls over you, calming your heart.

For a brief moment you’re still the little girl he placed on top of the pegasus on your fortieth birthday. For a brief moment your mother is still alive, suppressing the smile on her lips as she watches the creature wobble to life, shake its wings, and begin to fly.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

We're getting into the action/plot now folks! Hold on tight because I have IDEAS! It's going to take time for me to explain it all in the story, but I promise you I have a plan

Taglist: @rosebunnysblog @icey--stars @laceandsuch @coralseacourt @cherryinsalemverse @flowerprincezz @valeridarkness @annaaaaa88 @deeshag @bluesiphonsbaby @allyjoe755 @sidthedollface2 @auggiesolovey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @transparentmoonglitter @ang-taylorsversion @ssmay123 @just-m-2 @sevikas-whore @lalalucha @svtwonwoow @user707sthings @cherryinsalemverse @evylynny @decrepit-bees-knees @eleganttravelercloud @ghostwritermia @smitty-werbenjagermenjenson @fussel9913 @st0rmyt @glitterypirateduck @mischiefmanagers @waytoomanyteenagefeels @acourtofdreamsandshadows @sakurafrost3-blog @utterlyotterlyx @vickykazuya @venussdovess @xxxalicerogersxx @mattiescove @goldenmagnolias @secret-ly-here @kindaslightlyacidic @brujitafantomatico @venussdovess @xxxalicerogersxx @earth-to-lottie @balsalmic-vinegar @darbuckle21 @justagingerliving

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x mate reader #the inner circle #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #the day court

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fuckmyskywalker · 11 months

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Yes here — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, SMUT. Anakin is married and cheating on his wife. Secret affairs. PiV. Bit of dirty talk. Anakin is married to the wrong person.

— a/n: As usual, I don't know what I am doing. Anyways… cheating is wrong friends, don't do it. This is just fiction 👍🏻.

"Keep it down or I'll fucking stop" Anakin growls right in your ear, his cock buried deep from behind as he cages you against the wall of Senator Amidala's apartment.

"Anakin—" You gasp quietly, your body arching back, his toned clothed chest hotly pressed against your back. "Not here"

"Yes here" He replies with a wicked smile, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head so he can sink his teeth down your neck.

With every sharp thrust you feel the climax approaching your body like a tsunami. This is wrong, it's so wrong it has been going on for almost a year now.

Yet it's something so wonderful and delicious.

First of all, not only is Anakin fucking you raw against a wall, he is also doing it with his fucking wife in the next room who's peacefully sleeping, thinking the two mighty Jedis guarding her door are doing their nightly patrol.

He leaves a reddish mark on your neck, something that will be really hard for you to cover tomorrow, but Anakin doesn't care. He is a selfish, disgusting bastard who's trapped in an unhappy married and in love with the wrong person.

He is also the most handsome, beautiful man you had ever seen.

When the tip of his hard cock hits that right spot inside your dripping pussy, you choke a loud moan. Anakin growls again, half turned on by it and half annoyed. His leather covered hand releases your hair and clasps over your mouth, successfully shutting your noises. He knows you're close, he can feel it by the vicious grip of your cunt around his length, and it only spurs him, his hot breath tickling your ear as he murmurs an endless stream of profanities into it.

His hips continue their relentless assault against your ass, his pants pooling at his ankles since he is too much of a horndog he's unable to be alone in a room with you without burying his dick deep inside of you.

"Look at you filthy slut" He whispers and licks the shell of your ear, groaning at the tight grip of your sopping hole. He is absolutely addicted to your body, ever since he met you.

Anakin regrets every single day of his life his marriage; And it's clear by the way he is fucking you into oblivion. Anakin longs for you, in every way possible. Anakin wants you, and practically owns you.

When you come around him is like touching heaven, as your eyes roll back and your muffled scream is enough for him to reach his peak and spill his hot, sticky seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

He continues anyway, prolonging both of your orgasms until it it literally hurts.

Although, ever the gentleman he helps you pick up your loose pants, securing the belt around your hips and leaving his hands on top of them as he spins you around and kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth and exploring it at his will.

He stuffs himself back into his black robes, guiding you to the couch of the spacious living room. Anakin smiles when you lay down, recovering from the adrenaline and the rush of your secret affair. Anakin sits down next to you, brushing your hair and kissing your cheeks, your lips, adoring the post orgasmic glow on your face.

"I love you" He whispers against your lips, his flesh hand tracing patterns on your bare arm.

"I love you" You whisper back, your eyelids feeling heavy after days of three hours of sleep and a long day of patrolling around the city.

Anakin lets you rest on his shoulder, as he brushes some hairs away from your face sweetly.

He could stay like this for hours, just admiring you.

The door of the main bedroom opens slowly, as the familiar brown eyes of the woman he is tied up with peeks from behind.

"Hey" Padmé says in a hurried whisper, careful not to wake you up. "Is she okay?" She asks.

"She's just tired, don't worry angel" Anakin replies in a low voice, careful not to wake you up. "Everything is okay, I'll wake her up in a few minutes"

"Okay" Padmé nods and pushes her long braid away from her bare shoulder. "Be careful, I love you" She adds before closing the door of her bedroom.

Anakin just smiles, his hand coming up to your face and caressing your cheek. His blue eyes look intensely at you, admiring every freckle, mole and curve of your face. You look absolutely breathtaking. He feels his heart bursting with joy next to you.

"I love you" He whispers, but this time, is aimed to the right woman.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #Anakin Skywalker smut #anakin x reader smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker prompt #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars anakin #anakin cheats hehe #THIS IS FICTIONAL EVERYONE #star wars #star wars smut

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aerynwrites · 6 months

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Lost For Words

Gale Dekarios x gn!Reader

A/N: for the anon that sent in this request - I hope you and everyone else enjoys! I had such a fun time writing this haha.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit), grinding, reader is a tease, gale is a flustered mess, suggestive talk, kissing, fluff at the beginning.

*I tried to keep this gender neutral, but please let me know if anything slipped through my editing!*

It’s not often you get any downtime, what with the parasite in your brain and all.

But this evening has afforded you and your companions a rare but much needed free night. Most everyone has decided to spend the evening down in the tavern, drinking or gambling or whatever other pastimes happen down there. However, you and Gale have opted to stay upstairs, reveling in the unusual peace and quiet.

Gale had been reading to you for a while, a fantasy book of some sort, but you’d excused yourself a few moments ago. Not because you were enjoying lounging in bed with him, but because a certain item in your bag has been calling to you since you received it.

The Wavemother’s Robe.

It has been a gift for getting ride of that machine that was polluting the bay waters, and you hadn’t really had a chance to look at it.

But now, after you’ve retrieved it and stepped behind the dressing screen, you find that there isn’t really much to look at, at all.

As you slip into the delicate yet butter-soft fabric, you can’t help but notice that it leaves very little to the imagination. So, in that sense, there is a lot to look at depending on who’s doing the looking.

The neckline of the detailed collar of robe plummets down in a tragically deep neckline, the end reaching your navel. And the skirt of the robe is much the same, the slits in the sides coming up all the way to above your hip, leaving the fabric covering yourself hanging dangerously loose in the front and back.

For half a second, you're tempted to rip the thing off and get rid of it. The whole outfit is somewhat absurd.

But, despite your question about the functionality of such a garment, you can’t help but admire the beauty of it. The blue, scaled fabric sparkles in the dim candle light of the room, iridescent light bouncing off the walls whenever you turn. Even the small delicate chains at your hips and resting against your sternum twinkle gently.

When you look in the floor-length mirror you can’t help but let your mouth drop open slightly.

You look…good. If not a bit exposed.

Without thinking much about it, you turn and come out from behind the screen, approaching Gale where he still sits on the bed reading. If he hears your approach he doesn’t acknowledge it, only flipping a page every so often as you watch him in silence, a small smile on your face.

He’s sat propped up against the headboard, legs outstretched in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He cradles the book gentle in his hands atop his lap, eyes trailing over the page quickly as he consumes the story.

You take a couple steps closer to the bed, now just an arms length away.

He still doesn’t look up.

“Gale…” you call in a soft sing-song voice.

The wizard merely hums, inclining his head your way ever so slightly, but never takes his eyes from the page.

“Yes, my love?”

You huff, rolling your eyes as your smile tugs further at your lips.

“I wanted your thoughts on my new clothes.”

You watch as his brows furrow, his thumb sliding down the page to hold his place as he closes the book before slowly turning to look at you.

“Your clothes-?”

His questioning is cut off with the audible clack of his teeth as his mouth slams shut, his eyes going wide as they finally take you in, trailing from your head to your toes before whipping back up again.

He blushes. Actually blushes - his cheeks turning several shades darker as his eyes flit over your form once more before he’s back to looking at you all wide-eyed and scandalized.

A shit eating grin overtakes your earlier soft smile as you take the last few steps to the edge of the bed, reaching out to pluck the book from his hands to toss it to the side.

“So…what do you think?” you ask, voice dripping sweetness.

“W-what do I-? I - ehm…it’s certainly - revealing-“

You drop your lips into a pout as you crawl onto the bed, your nose barely brushing his own as you swing a leg over his hips to settle on his lap. The robe pools between you, but the position causes the silken fabric to rise up your hips even further. One wrong move and even less would be left to the imagination.

Something Gale must take notice of, as he instinctively reaches out to tug at the fabric on your hips, keeping it in place as his fingers dig into the flesh beneath it.

“Do you not like it?” you ask, feigning disappointment as you reach down to toy with the chain running down your chest. “I thought it was pretty.”

Gale clears his throat and shifts his hips, the evidence of just how much he likes it evident against your inner thigh.

“N-No not at all I -“ He coughs, the blush reaching down to his chest now, making his orb mark stand out against the flushed skin. “I simply was not expecting…”

His words taper off as you begin to trail a finger over the mark on his chest, following the tendrils up over his collarbone and onto the sensitive skin of his neck, making his breath hitch.

“Not expecting…what?”

“Well - I was deeply entrenched in m-my reading and then you come out like t - that!”

His last word pitches up when you grind your hips against his own, his fingers now digging into your hip bones.

You lean in close, lips brushing his cheek as you speak.

“Thats a very…lackluster description,” you pout. “Have I left the great Gale of Waterdeep lost for words? What happened to your supposed verbosity? And I remember something about a practiced tongue -“

Your teasing words are cut off sharply as Gale's arms wrap around your waist and he flips you both over on the bed, your back hitting the mattress with a soft this just as his lips claim yours, swallowing your gasp of surprise.

He wastes no time, his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips, demanding entrance.

Something you happily grant him.

The kiss is eager, frenzied, leaving no room for the teasing banter you had established earlier.

His hands move to slide down over your bare thighs before hiking one of them up over his hip and holding it there as he presses his hips down into your own.

Only when his hips meet your own in a desperate grind does he pull away from you, lips moving instead to trail kisses down your cheek and jaw.

“If you had given me a moment to collect myself,” he chastises lightly. “I would have gathered my wits enough to tell you how magnificent you look.”

“Ravishing.” He presses a kiss beneath your ear. “Captivating.” Another on the junction of your shoulder.

“Absolutely sinful.”

A sharp nip to your collarbone has you gasping, just as a calloused hand slides up the exposed expanse of your chest, fingers hooking beneath the delicate chains there.

“So…” He trails off, his lips traveling down to where his hand lays and then lower, pressing lightly to where the deep plunge of your robe ends.

“Since you were so impatient, I suppose I’ll just have to show you as well. To make up for my lack of…verbosity.”

A moan slips past your lips at his words, and you can't stop the shiver of excitement that runs through as his hands slip beneath the fabric of the robe.

Maybe you’ll keep the robe after all.

#gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 gale #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios #bg3

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neopuppy · 1 year

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Hi 😊 hope you're doing well. Can I ask for just the tip scenario with jaemin please 💙 love your work.

think of this as…..a teaser of something to come in the future☺️💚

warnings: ‘just the tip’, unprotected penetration

“I thought you said she was special for a newbie.”

Jaemin’s glaring at you, arms crossed over his chest annoyed with his ankles mimicking the same position. Only to further intimidate you, test your will and see just how serious you are about this.

“She is.” Johnny’s quick to confirm, quickly shooting him a stern look before moving to stand in front of you and hide you with his larger frame. “Don’t listen to anything he says.”

“I’m still sore from yesterday..” you try to whisper, Jeno standing nearby scratching at his nape shyly.

“Sorry…” he mouths, shrugging and smiling sheepishly.

“Do you want to reschedule?” Johnny’s assuring as always, squeezing your shoulders to calm you. “We don’t have to film today if you’re not up to it.”

Jaemin’s mumbling curses under his breath, tightening the sash around his waist, robe concealing more of his chest. “This is bullshit.”

“No no..” you know Jaemin’s pissed off, rolling his eyes behind Johnny’s back while repeating ‘special my ass’. “Can’t we just, I don’t know.. take things slow?”

“We’re shooting a gonzo scene, how the hell do you imagine we can take things slow!” Jaemin moves to stand next to you, his expression clearly filled with frustration. “This is stupid Johnny! We’re wasting filming time.”

“We can always rework the filming style, nothings set in stone alright? Calm it down.”

“What if we..” Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow at the sound of your voice, teeth gritted between his lips. “A little at a time, you know.. slow.”

Jeno clears his throat, continuing to set up the camera’s position. “Just the tip scenes do great from what I’ve seen, just saying.”

“Just the tip?” Johnny’s eyebrow cocks up, slowly nodding. “POV Just The Tip….innocent slut struggles to take a 9 inch cock for the first time.” His fingers snap, nodding and smiling. “You think you can handle that?”

Jaemin smirks over his shoulder for only you to see, tongue dragging between his teeth as if daring you to back down.

“I can do it.”

Johnny nods, tugging you into his side to whisper against your hair. “I won’t get mad if you can’t.”

Tucking into his chest you double check that Jaemin’s moved away, wrapping around Johnny’s waist. “Is it really 9?”

He laughs at that, stroking your waist through the robe. “Nothing you haven’t handled before.”

He’s right, between filming with Johnny and Jeno you’ve been put through thicker and bigger than you fathomed to be possible, but Jaemin..

As if on cue he unties the sash around his trim waist, eyeing you from your toes up to the anxious look you give him in return. Grinning slightly he bites down on the corner of his lip, robe dropped down leaving himself completely bare, length half hard dangling between his upper thigh and pelvic bone.

Fuck.

Tugging himself to full mass his brows lift at you suggestively, as if to say ‘you next’.

The settings simple today, nothing plot heavy, plain set only for the purpose of close-up shots, a few cameras set up around to capture your lower halves connecting, Jeno handling a handheld camera for up-above shots from Jaemin’s point of view. It’s different, and as you approach the edge of the couch in front of him you remind yourself that this has to do good. It’s only your second week working at Suh Films, and the last thing you plan to do is let Johnny down so soon after taking a chance on you.

“Jeno fuck you too good yesterday?” Jaemin asks, low toned, grabbing onto the knotted up sash keeping your figure covered. “You know, if you can’t handle a little pain..”

“I can.”

“He’s not really..” Jaemin leans in, licking at your earlobe. “As thick as me.” Untying your robe, he steps closer and grips onto your waist, fingers digging into your sides purposefully to manhandle you onto the couch, robe completely slipping off in the process.

Gripping around your knees, he hoists you closer until half of your ass hangs from the edge, shoving your legs into place until you sit spread open, feet curled against the couches ledge and your palms flat to support your balance.

A sadistic thrill runs through his chest, inspecting your swollen core. Jeno really had done a number on you, fucking like a horny teenager finally nailing his wet dream. Palming down your inner thighs, he pulls your center open with his thumbs, wet folds spreading out met with the cool air filling the room.

“You’ll let me put it in a little, right?” He asks, no longer whispering. The cameras rolling not even crossing your mind, too engrossed in each flex of muscle rippling through his chest and arms. The dumb whiny nod you give is all he needs to grip around the base of his length, girth appearing ridiculous in thickness surrounded by his fingers.

Smoothing his thumb between your folds, he bends at the knee, the tip of his length swiping between to smear arousal up to your clit. Slit sucking at the bundles of nerves with each slow pass.

“Too wet for a whore that can’t take a big cock.” Jaemin sneers, tip pushing down a glob of wetness back to your entrance, the sound of it bubbling out embarrassingly loud.

“I can..”

“Oh yeah?” His teeth poke out, hiding back a smile as he pushes down against your resistant opening, having to suck back a hiss at the first bit of his length making it inside. “Fuck that’s tight.”

Jaemin whispers too low for the cameras to pick up, zoned in on the tip of his length struggling to push past the pulsating band sucking around him.

He keeps still for a second, inhaling short deep breaths as the veins lining his rod thrum violently, hungry for more. “Need in this pussy.”

Chewing at his bottom lip for a minute, his cockhead dips in and out furiously; stomach muscles contorting with every snap of your entrance around him. Focusing on your cunt gripping around his size, the stretch too painful to even look at. Heat scorches between his thighs, balls tightening up forcing him to tear his gaze away, distracting himself with your mouth, hung open and panting.

“Can you take more?”

#nct hard hours #nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin drabbles #anon #jaemin hard hours

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drewsbuzzcut · 3 days

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It’s A Craving

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: smut (some daddy kink bc I couldn’t help myself) and alcohol consumption, mentions throwing up

Takes places May 2024

“Look at you, pretty girl,” Mat says, coming up behind you and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

You squeal in delight, body warming up by Mat’s body heat seeping through the material of your silk robe. His thick arm wraps around your waist, and his hand spreads out over the length of your abdomen which further makes you heat up.

“I’m not even dressed yet,” you sigh and melt into his sturdy chest.

Today is Mat’s birthday and tonight you’re attending a joint birthday party for him and yourself as your birthday just passed. You were in the middle of getting ready when Mat invaded your space, so now only your hair and makeup are done while your almost naked body is being caressed by your man. Not that you mind anyways.

“Even better,” he whispers hotly in your ear. The lingering scent of his previous glass of whiskey sends a chill down your spine and makes your toes curl. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoying tasting it on his tongue. You tilt your head back and grasp his chin, so you can slot your lips between his. His grip on you tightens as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

You suck and hum around his tongue, enjoying the whiskey on your tastebuds. You press your ass into his groin, smirking against his lips when a moan is shared between your mouths.

“I’m so wet right now,” you whimper as you guide his hand underneath your robe and to your hot and wanting core.

Mat’s chest thunders against your back and you can feel his cock start to harden. His hand is still firmly attached to your body, but all too soon a finger finds its way between your folds. He collects every drop of your arousal and works it up to your clit, slowly massaging circles into your bud.

“Fuck. Is all this for me?” He asks, voice husky and so sexy. You want to respond, but he pumps a finger into you which makes all rational thought cease to exist. Any thought that’s to be voiced simply disappears into oblivion.

Throwing an arm behind you, you grip the curls at the nape of his neck. You need to anchor yourself down before you dissipate with the rest of your thoughts.

“I can feel your little pussy squeezing my fingers, baby. I can feel your wetness dripping down my hand,” your boyfriend groans and continues to fuck his fingers into your g spot.

“Oh my god. I’m going to cum,” you choke out. Your body vibrates as your orgasm lingers, waiting to rock through your body.

“Sorry, you’re going to have to wait,” Mat huffs out. You hear the clink of his belt buckle coming undone, which you guess he was doing with one hand. And now that you think about it, you wish you could’ve seen him pull down his black pants with one hand. You’re sure it was a hot sight.

Mat ripping off his clothes in a wanton haze keeps you momentarily distracted from the fact that he just slipped his fingers out of you.

“What?” You mutter once your fogged up head clears up, but quickly grow silent when Mat drags you to the nearest flat surface that just so happens to be a window.

He presses your hips into the cool glass and works the rest of his pants down so that they pool at his ankles. He moves closer to you, loops his arms through your legs and hauls you up. His arms are under your thighs and you reach for his length to slip him in. A gasp falls from both of your mouths simultaneously as you both adjust to each other. Mat has to focus on not coming too soon from how tight you are, and you have to adjust to the yummy stretch.

Mat’s hands find your hips and slowly work you up and down on his cock. His mushroomed tip massages your fluttering walls, dragging out the beginning stages of your pleasure- building that fire deep inside of you.

“Just like that,” you moan, your hands grappling at the hockey player’s muscles. You attempt to wrap your legs around his waist, but you can’t with how firmly he holds you.

“You like that, baby?” He groans, snapping his hips so the tip of his cock hits the deepest parts of you. You shiver when he fully sheaths himself inside of you, but you still welcome the feeling of being full.

His voice drips in honey and his hazel eyes have turned into the richest coffee. He’s never been one to be able to easily hide his arousal. Whenever he’s in the mood, you can tell the second he enters a room.

“You feel so good,” you hum and pull your body closer to him. Your breasts press into his chest and your nipples harden under the heat of his skin.

You wrap your arms around his neck and continue to move your hips up and down. Your blood is pounding in your ears, but it’s mostly covered by the sounds of Mat’s balls slapping against your ass. Eventually your pace falls apart, but your boyfriend’s strength keeps you moving as your orgasm slowly comes forward. Your body is already starting to shake and you can feel your walls clench around him. It doesn’t take long for the knot to form in your stomach and for your vision to start to blur.

“I can feel your tight pussy squeezing me. You like my cock, baby? You like the way I’m making you feel?”

You try not to let his words bleed into your system, because if you do, you’ll have no control over your impending orgasm. You want to at least feel the fire rush through your veins rather than blacking out from the pleasure.

“Yes,” you nearly shout.

You bounce harder and faster on his length, your arousal dripping down his shaft as you grip him tightly. Mat closes his eyes in bliss and lets his head fall back. You grip his chin and make sure his eyes are locked on yours. There’s nothing you enjoy more than him watching you take his cock. You demand his full attention always. His lips part, his eyes glaze over, and a furious flush rises from his chest up to his neck. You can’t help but attach your lips to his pulse point, sucking along to the beat of his heart.

“Come inside of me, daddy,” you whisper in his ear and nip at his earlobe.

Feeling his mind burst into flames, he slams you into the window. His hands brace himself on the cool glass as he bucks his cock harder into your dripping pussy. You wrap your legs around his waist and drop your hips to match his thrusts. Your fingers dig into his hair, wrapping around the strands and tugging.

“Say it again,” Mat demands, a hand wrapping around the back of your neck so he can crash his lips into yours.

“You feel so fucking good, daddy. I want you to cum in me,” you whimper into the kiss, your mouth falling from his as you take your lip between your teeth.

The pleasure burns in your belly and makes you writhe against his body. The air around you runs thick and both of your breaths mingle together.

“Fuck,” he groans as he empties himself inside of you. Your hands wander down the thick muscles in his back, feeling the way they tense and relax with his body-tingling orgasm.

“Yes, just like that,” you say as he starts to rock into you again. Just because he came first, doesn’t mean he’ll leave you unsatisfied. He’ll always be focused on your pleasure no matter what.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Make a mess on my cock.” He’s back to bouncing you on his shaft.

His brazen words, the squelching sound of wet skin hitting, and the way he pounds into you has you falling deep into the abyss. Every nerve ending of yours explodes with passion.

“I’m gonna cum,” you announce as everything around you starts to grow warm and fuzzy.

After a few more strokes, you’re crying around a moan and pressing yourself into his body. You tightly wrap your arms around his neck, so he can hold you while your release works its way from your head to your toes.

Mat works you through your orgasm, and your slick walls keep him inside of you with a vice grip. You try to focus on his lips kissing your skin and his whispers of affection along your skin, but all you can feel is his length keeping both of your releases lodged inside of you.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur while caressing his cheek. You gently place your forehead on his and hold each other while the thrum of your heartbeat knocks against his.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Mat gently sets you down on your feet, his hands holding your sides to keep you steady.

“I love you.” Your eyes hold onto his, an overjoyed smile taking over your features.

“I love you,” is stated into the skin of your collarbones. It makes you squeal and jump back into his arms. You’ll never get used to the swarms of butterflies that freely roam in your stomach whenever you’re with Mat.

The alcohol is flowing, the company is great, and the loud music does a great job at keeping you company while Mat obtains your next round of drinks.

The night has been so much fun and you’re glad that the party is still going even though it’s nearly 2 a.m. Although right now you’re in a secluded corner, you have no problem watching your friends have the time of their lives. The corners of your lips lift in a small smile at their inebriated states and their loud shouting along to the song playing. You may be quiet at the moment, but just earlier you were bumping and grinding with Mat on the dance floor. He had your hips in his hands while you both swayed to the beat of the music. His chest was plastered to your back and his lips never left your neck. You’re more than positive that there are some small hickeys painting your skin. Your skin burns in the memory of his touch and you can’t fight the smug smirk off your face.

“You’re so sexy. I swear I’m the luckiest man of earth,” you hear Mat’s voice cut through the music. His voice is heavy with need and his eyes are practically pleading.

You shoot him a grin and happily accept your vodka and red bull from his hand.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you sigh and wrap an arm around his neck, unintentionally pushing your boobs in his face.

Your sweet boyfriend watches you with heart eyes as you flip your hair over your shoulder and your fingers fiddle with his shirt.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Mat asks after a sip of his beer. His eyes bore into yours and pour out every ounce of love that he has for you in his body. His only available hand falls to your waist and scoots you closer to him.

“You tell me all the time, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” you respond with a hand on his chest, your finger poking through the opening in between the buttons and touching his bare skin. You bat your eyelashes at him and nibble on your lip, knowing it makes him weak in the knees.

“I love you so much, pretty girl. You’re it for me,” he whispers close to your ear, making chills roll out on your body.

“I love you more,” you say and seal it with a kiss.

“You’re the love of my life and that’ll never change,” you mutter into the kiss, pulling your mouth from his so you can rest your forehead on his.

You both take a moment to share each other’s air without having your lips locked. In this one moment the music lowers and everyone around you disappears into the darkness. The glowing strobe lights only shine on the both of you, allowing your love to radiate throughout the room.

“Baby,” Mat hums, his nose nudging at your throat.

“Yes.”

“I’m really horny,” he giggles, looking at you with his eyes crinkled and his signature toothy smile.

You let out a laugh and cup his cheeks, so you can stare at his happy state. The hockey season has been a rough one, so it’s nice to see him let loose.

“I can tell, hotshot,” you muse with a tilt of your head. His eyes are glossy, his hands won’t leave your body, and he can’t stop staring at your lips. Not to mention how clingy he is. Mat is extra clingy when he’s drinking and when he’s horny.

“You’re sexy,” he hums once again.

Before you can respond, his face falls into the valley of your boobs. His lips attack your skin and he nuzzles his face between your breasts. Every now and then his tongue will sneak out and he’ll suck on you until you let out a whimper.

“I think you should take me home,” you moan into his ear and suck his earlobe into your mouth.

“Yes ma’am,” he easily agrees with a smack to each of your ass cheeks.

The walk home was mostly uneventful. Mat was yapping about how good you look and you would stop him every few blocks to give him a very raunchy kiss.

When you did finally get home, Mat made you wait on his bed while he got himself situated in the restroom. Planning ahead, you decided to strip off every single item of clothing that had donned your body. You’re now spread out on his bed, the sheets twisting between your fingers.

“Okay! Okay, I’m ready!” Mat cheers as he jogs out of the restroom.

“Ready for what exactly?” You ask, your eyes peering at him curiously.

“A late birthday present,” he says as he turns on some music. Billie Eilish’s newest song “Lunch” filters through the silence.

You cock an eyebrow at your boyfriend when he starts to slowly unbutton his button up, his eyes glued on yours. With each button that comes undone, the more excited you get to see his chiseled chest and abs. When his shirt meets the floor he gives you a little wiggle of his hips. He tries to move in sync with the song, but he’s a little weighed down by the alcohol. You don’t care, though; you’re very much enjoying the show.

“You’re so sexy, Barzy,” you say with a sultry lilt to your voice.

You lift yourself up and crawl to the end of the bed where he’s located. When you rise to lean on your knees, Mat’s chest and neck grow vibrant red and his eyes flit back and forth between your face and bare boobs. His lips open and close and no words are able to form on his tongue. After a long pause he shakes his head and continues his little striptease.

As he’s pushing down his pants, he trips over them and lands on his ass with a thud. A startled gasp leaves your mouth and you have to try your hardest not to laugh at the hockey player. He’s on the floor with a pout and his puppy dog eyes.

“You’re naked,” he points out as he stares at the ceiling.

“You just noticed?” It comes out in a playful scoff.

“No, I just couldn’t form any words to express my satisfaction,” he mumbles and looks back at your naked form.

“Hmm okay.” You watch him clumsily get up and stumble as he kicks off his pants.

Once he’s just in his underwear, he takes a deep breath before exhaling. He has his hands on his hips and he looks like an exhausted father.

“Are you going to continue?” You question, sitting up on the mattress.

He gives you a sluggish head shake. Next thing you know he’s lazily throwing his body on top of yours. His head lands on your stomach and he tries to tangle his legs with yours.

“I’m so embarrassed,” Mat groans and tries to dig his face into your skin.

With a furrowed brow, you think about why he feels embarrassed.

“Why, baby?”

“I’m like, really drunk,” he explains and you massage his scalp and rub his back.

You’re still slightly confused, because it’s not like you’ve never seen him drunk before. You’ve seen Mat in almost every type of scenario, so you’re not sure where this embarrassment is stemming from. All you know is that he’s your baby and you’re going to take care of him.

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“No. I’m hard, though,” he says and you laugh at his efforts to get laid. It’s not happening tonight, though.

“As much as I’d love to be dicked down, you’re too drunk right now. You’d never have sex with me like that and I’m not about to do it either, hotshot,” you whisper and kiss his head.

“Well, I guess there’s always tomorrow,” he says with a shrug.

“I guess so. I love you, Barzy.” You lie back and let him adjust himself so his head is on your chest.

He leans up and presses his lips to yours, staying there for a few minutes before he rests his head over your chest again.

“I love you.” His words are low and soft, and in the matter of seconds he’s asleep.

a/n: I honestly don’t know how to feel about this. It’s a bunch of little ideas I had put into one piece. It’s honestly self fulfilling, but I do wish it were better🥴 I hope you all enjoy!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fic #visceral in doses #nhl fic #nhl imagines #new york islanders

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suzukiblu · 5 months

Text

A bit more of "Kara gets to Earth on time and the Kents get a two-for-one special on free kids".

They finish eating, and Pa pays with the strange paper money and gets metal tokens back again. Are they a receipt, Kara wonders? Or are they some kind of money too, or something else altogether?

For all she knows, this species eats metal and they’re some kind of complimentary snack. Probably not, since the clothing store handed them out too, but again, she doesn’t know.

They go back out onto the streets of Smoll-Veel and head back towards Ma and Pa’s transport, but they don’t actually get there before–

“Jona-Than! Mar-Tha!” an alien voice calls from down the street, and Ma and Pa turn towards it. Kara tightens her grip on Kal reflexively and tries to keep smiling. An unfamiliar alien comes up to Ma and Pa and starts chattering excitedly, their face unnervingly animated and hands gesturing constantly. Kara’s never seen anyone speak so expressively but her own parents, and they had the decorum to do it privately.

That doesn’t seem to be how things are done on this planet, though.

This alien has flat brown hair and peachy speckled skin, and they’re wearing a long ankle-length robe but have bare arms and no undersuit, strangely enough. A lot of people on this planet just don’t seem to wear much clothing, it seems like. Kal burbles curiously at the new alien around his toy’s ear, and they look surprised and look from him to Kara, and then back to Ma and Pa. They ask something, Kara thinks, and she tries not to tense.

Ma says something–Kara catches words that sound like “foss-turr” and “chyuld”, but nothing she understands, until Pa speaks up too and says something that ends in “Kent”.

She knows that word, she thinks in relief, and points at herself.

"Kent!" she repeats, nodding eagerly. No, she still doesn't know the aliens' language, but she's assuming being a farmer isn't a job that's too heavily dependent on language, and Ma and Pa will be likelier to let her stay on long enough to learn a bit more about this world if she helps out, she’s sure.

Ma and Pa get the oddest looks on their faces, just for a moment, and then both look so incredibly pleased and give her the kindest smiles they’ve given her so far.

They must really need another farmer around, Kara thinks.

Well, that’s lucky for her and Kal, isn’t it?

#wip: kara gets to earth on time #kara zor el #supergirl #superfamily

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avenging-fandoms · 1 year

Note

I’m obsessed w everything you write. Have you seen the interview with Pedro where he calls the interview mama? I need a fic of this. I simply cannot handle it.

You wrapped yourself in your fluffy ankle length robe and slid on your slippers, tying the string around your waist and heading down the stairs. "Mornin' mama, you sleep good?"

Pedro had his coffee mug gripped in his right hand and left arm extended, wrapping around your back and pulling you into his side as he kissed the top of your head. Your arms wrap around his ribs and lay your head on his chest for a few seconds for giving him a kiss. "Alright. I had a nightmare and was up for a couple hours"

You pulled away to make your mug and grabbed your “wife” cup, the cup Pedro used to propose to you one early morning just the two of you.

“Again? I told you if it happens again to wake me up so I can help you” Pedro steps behind you and mumbled his words against your neck and placed his hand on your stomach from behind.

“I know but I didn’t want to, you looked so peaceful and you had a busy day, I didn’t want to bother you” you shrug and put the pot back in the machine and Pedro pushes his hand up over your chest and to your neck, putting his index fingers on the left side of your jaw and thumb on the right.

“I don’t care how I look, you wake me up. You could never bother, honey” he hums and kisses you softly, his hand moving down to hold your neck while gripping a bit.

Your hand reached up and held the back of his head, sighing into the kiss. Pedro pulled away and you stood back up, adding your things and heading to the couch. You grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, pushing your legs out onto the cushions.

Pedro lifted your legs and sat under them, placing your knees on his lap with his mug on your thigh. You pick a Disney movie and Pedro smiles, taking a sip and setting it on the table.

His hand rubs up and down your thigh, and eventually he laid his head on your stomach with his arms wrapped around your leg. His lips left gentle, tickling kisses on your inner thigh and you shiver. "You alright mama?" he asks, placing a kiss on your thigh as he looks at you.

"Get up here" you smile and he holds your waist as you kiss him, wrapping a leg around his waist. "And stop calling me that name" you breathe as he kisses your neck, your fingers gripping and pulling up his shirt

"I like seeing your reaction when I call you it. Don't you like it, mama?" he smiles and you groan, kissing him again and pulling him into your body and he laughs.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal blurbs #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #rpf #real person fiction

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tadpolesonalgae · 11 months

Text

Helion x Reader: New Mechanisms[*]

A/N: HAHAHAHA I LOVE HIM

Warnings: Helion being a fun and kinky husband.

You could smell the wine before you even opened the door leading his chambers—top floor of the palace.

He’s already sprawled across a chaise, adored in a cotton robe threaded with gold, the usual arm band fashioned to a snake sitting comfortably around his bicep. His eyes slide to your figure, sharpening with a predatory gleam as he raises the bottle to his mouth, drinking deeply.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you drawl, shutting the double doors behind you, moving across the open space of the living room.

It’s cavernous, almost. The wards are down today, allowing a breeze to sweep through, a pleasant refresher to the stuffiness of your work place. The light wind swishes the hem of your light dress which ends just above your ankles, feet adorned in low heels, cream leather with golden thread accenting the laces that wrap up your calves. Perhaps fashioned to match your husband. He does so enjoy it when you look the part of a happy couple.

You shuck off the uniform blazer of your work place: a thin, tuscan red, cashmere jacket that’s lined with viscose on its interior. Light, and breathable enough for you not to swelter in the heat of the Day Court.

“I have a day off tomorrow, wife.” That gleam in his eye promises nothing but divine pleasure, and it’s taken you years to master the art of not crumbling when he gives you that look. Instead, you set your bag down on one of the sandstone counters, already reaching to free your hair from its relatively neat restraint.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to spend it resting then, husband.” You emphasis, setting down on one of the hand carved wooden stools surrounding the counter as you begin untying your heels, exposing the length of your leg.

“I will do no such thing,” he drawls, popping a grape into his mouth, tipping his head back to catch it, exposing the strong column of his throat. The dark skin you want to taste. The skin beneath those robes, too.

His eyes gleam, catching your glance, smirking at you.

You merely roll your eyes, allowing one shoe to drop to the floor while you start on the other. “Wine and cooled grapes? My, my, Helion. So decadent.”

“You should see what I’m planning to have tonight. She puts decadent to shame.”

You raise a brow, peering at him from your seat, “such a shameless flirt. Honestly, one would think you’d be satiated by now.”

A deep, rich laugh rumbles from his chest, and warmth ignites in your chest from the sound alone. “Me? Tire of you?” You roll your eyes again, but that’s indeed a smile that’s lifting the edges of your mouth. He never fails to make you feel divine. Delectable. As if you’re the most mouth-watering creature he’s ever come across.

You reach for the bag once you’ve removed your final heel. “I may have gotten a little present for my hard-working High Lord,” you croon, a teasing smile playing on your lips. His hand stills on the way to his mouth, the grape moments away from being devoured.

His attention narrows onto your figure as you collect the bag, bare feet slapping against the cool, stone panels as you make your way over to him. You push his long legs off the chaise, as if you’re making to sit beside him. Except you slide into his lap, seating yourself atop one of his muscled thighs, pushing the bag to him.

“Are you going to make me guess this time? Or am I free to open it and see the wonders inside?” He teases, but you can tell he’s interested in its contents. You lean forward, a hand wrapping around his wrist as you steal the grape from his fingers, lips grazing their pads before you pull away, grinning.

“You’re free to open it,” you say, delighting in the refreshingly cool juice of the fruit.

From inside, he pulls out an object wrapped in aquamarine tissue paper. He recognises the signature card that accompanies it instantly.

His eyes snap to you, voice low and rough as he drawls, “where’s this from?” You offer another grin at the husky baritone, settling your hand on the window of dark skin his robe reveals at the top of his broad chest. “Just something I’ve recently finalised from work,” you grin wickedly.

A growl resounds in his chest, “you didn’t mention you were nearing the end of your…project.”

“Would you like me to take it back? Technically this is a prototype, so I shouldn’t even be showing it to you, High Lord.” You reach for the tissue but he pulls it out of your reach, chuckling. His free hand wraps around your waist, pulling you against him, “here you are, stealing things from work,” he drawls, hand lowering to your hip, “yet every believes you to be the sweet, innocent one.”

You raise a single brow in challenge, “are you saying you’re the sweet, innocent one?” He looks like he’s about to reply, but you shift in his lap, “open it.”

“Impatient.” He mutters, but follows your order, removing the tissue paper to reveal the object. His brow scrunches as he studies the toy. You laugh at his expression, “you’re looking as if you expected to know what it was.”

His eyes slide to you, “it’s entirely new?” You offer him a sultry smile, “I might have made a few modifications for it to…fit.”

He swallows. “How does it work?”

The grin on your mouth turns feline, “want me to show you?”

————

He’d nodded, and when you had moved to walk to the bedroom, he’d simply snuck his large palms beneath your ass, and scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his hips. You startled, but quickly settled into him, thighs squeezing him as you felt the very obvious sign of his arousal.

You’d wound against him teasingly, to which he’d let out a rough laugh before seating himself at the edge of the bed, keeping you spread out over his lap.

Your dress has hiked up to your thighs from having him between them, but you make no move to pull it down.

“Want to at least explain what you’re about to put me through, honey?” He drawls, enjoying how your hands deftly begin unfastening the clasps at his broad shoulders, ridding him of the offending cotton. Your eyes flick to his with a sultry glint, “hell.”

His mouth twists into a divine grin of blissful resignation. “I would expect no less from my wife.” You practically purr at that. Even after all these years, it does something to you. When he calls you his wife. A shiver runs down your spine as you allow Helion to remove the rest of his robes as your hands drop to your dress. You lift onto your knees to help him, until you’re both naked.

“You mentioned some modifications?” He drawls, gripping your hips, rolling you gently over his thighs, so you’re pressed tight to his abdomen.

You reach for the invention of yours: it’s a thick, hollow circle, wrapped in what looks like rubber but’s much softer, has more give. It’s cream coloured, with golden dusted edges where the seams would be. At one end is a swell of that rubbery material that’s softly serrated. Tiny, neat ridges ingrained as they are on the interior of the ring.

“I had to make it a little…larger. To accommodate you, comfortably,” you reply, and you feel pleasure warm you cheeks at the mention of his generous…size. A purely male grin lifts his lips at that, and you can feel the pride radiating from the cocky male.

“You and that cock of yours,” you drawl, incredulously.

He shoots you a grin that, were you standing, would’ve had you on your knees in an instant. “I thought you liked this cock of mine,” he smirks, shifting his hips so you can feel the size of him against your tummy.

You look him in the eyes as you settle your hands on his shoulders, raising to your knees, “more than you know, husband.” His hands brace your hips, “no prep?” He’s frowning at you—disapprovingly. You flush, and look away shyly for a moment, an embarrassed smile on your lips. “The testers today… I might have volunteered to try another prototype, one that isn’t fully ready yet…”

He groans, cupping your cheeks, staring up at you from your raised position, “is that what the tug was? That wave of happiness I felt earlier today, hm?” Your hands overlap his, nodding, and he moans at the mental image. “Tell me what happened.”

He grips himself, free hand resting on your hip, guiding you downward, slowly. “I…It’s the twin to the one I brought home a few months ago…” you manage. A contented sigh leaves your lips as you take the first two inches of him, and you struggle for words. He just grins, smugly. Helion raises you to his tip, only to encourage you further down, and the pads of your fingers dig into the muscle of his shoulders. “keep going,” he drawls, and you can’t tell if he’s talking about your daytime adventures or sinking down onto his cock.

“It’s…got similar mechanisms as this one…” you breathe, lifting your hips, then taking more of him. “Making it…more advanced…” you manage, panting as you take as much of him as you can.

His hands snake up your front, thumbing your nipples, attaching his mouth to your own as moans are exchanged between you. You keep still for a while, catching your breath while Helion lays his lips over your neck, nipping and biting as you pant, feeling full. “You’re taking me so well, honey.” He kisses your throat, “I know it’s a big stretch for you.”

Smug bastard.

You can practically feel his cocky grin as you try to keep from losing your head just having him pressing so tight against you. It’s so good.

You pull at his onyx hair, pulling his devilish mouth from your skin, “we’ll see who’s struggling after this, shall we?” The spark in his eyes shows he accepts your challenge. “Maybe hold your horses until you won’t pass out from the slightest movement,” he drawls, making you scowl.

He sees you opening your mouth, but grips your hips, rolling you down. You gasp, slumping forward, head resting on his shoulder as he chuckles, stroking your hair. “I know, I know,” he soothes, “it’s a lot to take, isn’t it?” You can barely manage to scowl at his conceited words disguised as comfort.

He’s right, though.

With more strength than should be necessary, you manage to lift yourself from his lap, settling back onto his thighs. You reach for the toy, sliding it over the head of his cock. Helion shivers as you gently slide it down, like how you had done with yourself—making sure the rubbery contraption is slicked well, moving it with ease.

It settles at his base, where you struggle to reach—with your cunt or your mouth.

Shakily, you raise up again, perching at his tip. You might honestly pass out from pleasure this time. You can feel the aroused heat bubbling beneath your skin, and can practically taste his own in the air.

Helion help as you sink down onto him, grasping you by the hips until that swell at the front of the toy is pressing over your clit. You shiver in anticipation and he twitches in response. It seems both of you are desperate for that first release—which will inevitably lead to a number more following.

Your thighs are trembling, but you manage to reach around, finding the finger-tip sized invert in the mechanism. “I’m honestly not sure if I’ll be able to move once this turns on,” you warn gently. He gives you a devious smile. “What do you think all these muscles are for?” You tighten around him as his grip intensifies over your hips. The thought of him slamming you down is enough to have your own strength giving out.

His eyes gleam as if he’s read the thought in your mind.

“Why don’t you start it up, huh?” He drawls softly, pressing a kiss to your nose. You swallow, but tap the divot twice, and the vibrations start.

You gasp, sucking in a breath as the sensations swell over your clit, sending tiny ricochets bound up your body. Helion groans in response, and you know he’s feeling it too—the rapid, quick-fire pulses squeezing his cock in fast succession. Your back curves, pressing down, driving him deeper until he’s touching that spot inside of you that makes you weep when he abuses it.

“Fuck, honey…” Helion moans, gripping you tight. “What a wicked mind you have.” You only manage a soft whine in response, that turns into a whimper when he lifts you up—just as he promised, and—

Oh gods—

—slams you down.

Your eyes roll, nails biting into him as pleasure doubles…triples within you, rapidly dividing over and over until you’re made of euphoria. You can’t manage words, they’re beyond you. Just met with endless waves of pleasure as he continues raising your hips then roughly sliding you back down. Making sure his cock kisses that spot inside you every damn time.

It’s so much, so much that you can feel the high building already, gathering with enough force to promise to send you reeling, melting into him. And you’re entirely right.

The high knocks you off your feet, and you slump into your husband, collapsing as your mouth opens over his shoulder. You bite down lightly, a gentle scrape of your teeth over his dark skin as you moan from the intensity.

You think you scream as he keeps up the pace, making you gush, release spurting from you when it can, splashing down him as he growls with male pleasure.

One large palm scoops beneath you, his middle and forefinger fitting either side of his cock as he helps you bounce up and down, soaking them in the process. You can feel him spilling into you in response to your fluttering cunt, and you moan, crying out at the pleasure.

Helion grips your jaw lightly, pulling you back gently and your brows curve with the effort. Heat engulfs your body as he raises those soaked fingers to his mouth, lapping at your flavour while he watches you hungrily.

The moment his mouth is free, you’re opening your lips over him, kissing him deeply as you take in the taste. Moans and groans fill the room, arousal twining in the air.

The High Lord doesn’t give you a moment’s rest, laying back on the bed, a pillow beneath his head so he can watch.

Watch as he grips your hips firmly, and begins all over again.

The air is kicked from your lungs, a strained whimper dragging from your throat as he bucks upward. The swell of rubber presses flush against your clit, still sending those rapid, sporadic pulses and you mewl.

“Mother—fuck, Helion!” You gasp as he rolls his hips against yours, already pounding into you, making you bounce. He hardly needs a second of recovery time. You grit your teeth as he slams into you, panting, jerking slightly every time those vibrations wash upon the apex of your thighs.

“Come on,” he groans, thumbs rubbing over your hips, “you can do another. I know you can.”

All your muscles tighten with the overstimulation. Your thighs flexing, stomach clenching with pleasure as tears brim at the edges of your lashes. “Helion…” you whimper.

It was the wrong thing to do. It’s only ever spurred him on.

He grips you firmly, bands of light contracting around your waist as he pulls your down on his cock. That damned swell on the toy overlapping your clit, sending those tight, intense pulses.

You scream, your palms smacking against his hard stomach, pressing against the muscle as your mouth drops open. “What did you say earlier?” He drawls, keeping you flush to the mechanism. “Seeing who would be struggling more?” He laughs, and it’s deep and rich, a shiver running down your spine.

Another high is already building from the insane stimulation and you roll your hips against Helion’s. He jerks and groans deeply but forces his hands away, allowing you to pleasure him.

You settle your hands on his stomach and raise your hips before slamming down.

Helion snarls with pleasure, growling at the back of his throat as he feels how tightly you’re hugging him, how eagerly you’re riding him.

“Helion…” you moan. It’s sweet enough he brings his hands to your hips, and helps you along. Grinding against you. Bucking up. Slamming you down.

Your nails bite into him but neither of you care. Honestly, you think Helion likes that edge. Knowing how good he’s making you feel.

It’s not much longer before you’re both spiralling again, and you’re fully aware of how loud you scream.

“Gracious, honey,” Helion remarks roughly, that deep drawl that drags from his throat sending mindless pleasure spinning beneath your skin. He follows behind you, your own release setting his off as euphoria spills down the bond, flooding his mind as he continues slamming you down until you’re putty in his hands.

Your shoulders slump, and this time you reach round and double tap the divot in the toy, bringing to a standstill. You gasp, gulping down air as you pant. Helion’s hands wrap over your shoulders, pulling you down against him, the bands of light removing themselves. You go very willingly, melting into the strong warmth of him.

“I think you’re little invention worked a bit too well, honey,” he drawls, rubbing your back soothingly, feeling how drained you already are.

“It’s not little at all,” you grumble, half slurring your words through fatigue.

He laughs in response, but moves to sit upright.

“Dear gods, don’t—” A whine spills from your lips as his cock shifts inside of you and your back arches from sensitivity, nipples scraping over his chest. “You can either get off, or we can go another round,” Helion taunts, bucking his hips slightly.

You release a garbled sound that makes him smirk—smug. So smug.

You scramble off him, thighs trembling as you collapse onto the bed. Helion discards the too good toy, removing it to the bathroom where it would be washed—later.

He’s already tucking you in beside him despite the sun still just about the horizon. “What skilled hands you have, wife,” he mocks, softly, pressing kisses to your forehead as he plasters you against his chest. “I think my mouth’s a little better, husband,” you shoot back, making him nip at the tip of your ear. “Don’t tempt me.”

You huff a laugh, tipping your head to look at him, “you and your libido.”

“Insatiable. I know,” he gives you a grin that tells you he’s not at all ashamed of it. You kiss him, letting him know you agree.

“One day,” you murmur, wearily. “One day, I’m going to ware you out.”

He just laughs merrily, holding you tight, “keep dreaming, wife.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020

#Helion #helion x reader #New Mechanisms #Helion smut #Helion x reader smut #day Court #acotar

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