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angelshadowsinger · 1 year

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Supposed to Be Together {part 1}

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.2k 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: angst, smut 𝐊𝐞𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: drinking, Az being dumb & in denial, drunk sex, unprotected sex 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:

𝘍𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 . 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴, 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘈𝘊𝘖𝘛𝘈𝘙 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 & 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘵 100% 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘔𝘢𝘢𝘴’ 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘕𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘥𝘫𝘢'𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 (𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳)

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ꜱɪᴘʜᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

The view from the House of Wind never failed to leave you breathless.

Velaris twinkled brightly below, city lights reflecting off the Sidra as the warm summer wind tickling at your exposed skin. The sun was dipping below the horizon now, only a thin trail of scarlet bleeding into the indigo of the Night Court sky. Above, stars already blinked and glimmered, a crescent moon hung proudly above.

The strong, swift beat of wings neared, and suddenly Mor and Nesta appeared above the wall of the balcony, each snug against Cassian’s absurdly broad chest. The two women were already donning their evening attire, jewels sparkling both their decolletages, looking near reminiscent of the stars that you had just been studying.

Mor set sight on you immediately, skipping out of the war general’s grasp and pouncing on you. Her hair was curled in pretty waves and her lips painted a bright red that complimented the fiery orange dress snug on her hips. “Hello my sweetest,” she greeted, almost planting a kiss on you but you swerved back with a stifled laugh, pointing to her lips. She laughed, sending an air-kiss your way instead.

“Hi Mor. You look beautiful as always,” you said honestly. You’d known the female for quite some time now and it was only once you’d seen her looking worse for wear– the night she had tried to conquer a foreign green alcohol that burned your nose with but a tentative sniff.

Turning to the other blonde, you did not fail to notice the slight flush in her cheeks as her eyes flitted away from Cassian’s, clearly amused by something her mate had communicated to her. It was only fair, given that the event that had the Inner Circle going out for the evening was their anniversary after all. The Illyrian gave you a friendly wave and shouted hello, which you returned.

A navy dress hugged his mate’s figure and a long slit ran up her toned leg, gold jewelry spindling around her wrists and pointed ears. “Nesta, the lady of the night,” you acknowledged, “You look incredible.”

She gave a small smile at your appraisal. “Thank you, Y/N. You look nice, too.”

It wasn’t the most amazing compliment, but you’d take it. Especially seeing as it had come from Nesta, the viper. She had calmed down since mating her male years ago, but the nickname still stuck, and you didn’t doubt that her bite could still be just as wounding as it once was.

It was then that Mor’s fingers trailed down your forearm, sending a shiver through you and making you turn to look at her. Her gaze was currently running over the ensemble you were sporting, shining with approval at the deep violet gown that delicately draped off your shoulders and the pink sapphire necklace that followed the dip into your exposed cleavage. “Mmm, mmm. Drunk me is going to have a hard time resisting such a snack later. You know I get the drunchies,” she said, a hint of mischief in her tawny orbs. Then adding in a lower voice, “And I doubt I’ll be the only one having a hard time controlling themselves…”

She coughed as your elbow immediately jabbed her ribs. Mor was the only one that you had actually told about your relation to the mysterious spymaster of the Inner Circle.

Ever since your apprenticeship with the renowned healer Madja had started, the higher-ups of the Night Court who so often required her services had taken keen interest in you. All of them were much friendlier than you had expected– almost more of a surprise to you than the carefree, blossoming city of Velaris. You were not of the Night Court lands, but now they felt like home to you.

The Morrigan was the fastest friend you made, her honest nature pacifying the wariness that clung to you upon your arrival. Rhysand had attempted to befriend you first, but the sheer promise of power rippling off of him had you shrinking at the sight of him, so he allowed his friends to win you over first. Cassian was crucial in showing you that the High Lord was no threat to you, his chipper outlook wearing down the half-hearted walls you had built around yourself. Feyre also helped, who you grew closer with when you were sent to shadow her pregnancy check-ups with Madja. Many hours filled with warm vulnerability melted your frosty facade, and you bonded over the knowledge that you both had scars from your trauma, even if that acknowledgement was unspoken between the pair of you. She had even offered you a permanent position in the city, if you so desired it after your learnings with the sage healer were at a close. Once you were comfortable with her, Rhysand made your good list– if he was her mate, and if he treated her so lovingly, then surely he was not to be feared after all. Amren was… still a bit scary to you, but she was never malicious or meaning ill-will. Just unsettling.

Last was Azriel.

He was not present when you first arrived, and remained away during the first week of the Inner Circle’s efforts to woo you. But when he did finally arrive… you nearly swooned at first sight of him; the most handsome male you had ever laid eyes upon. It only got better when he opened his mouth, and his gentle, kind welcome pushed you off the cliff- falling, you began falling for him then. After that, he continued to treat you with such respect, and quiet thoughtfulness, that before you knew it, he was the one you began choosing to spend your free time with. One on one, he was still just as sweet, but he also showed you that he could tease, and jest, and he could be downright hilarious when he wanted to be.

It was only two weeks ago that your newest discovery had occurred.

You had been walking through the gardens with him, a common occurrence for the two of you when he was home and off-duty, when he had flown up to the top of your favorite magnolia tree, and plucked the fattest, most beautiful blossom from the highest branch. He landed gracefully in front of you, leaning down and wordlessly offering it to you, a soft smile gracing his lips, eyes warm, and maybe even the tiniest bit of pink tinging his cheeks. It was then that the bond snapped into place.

For you, anyway.

While you had nearly fallen on your ass in shock, disbelief– elation– he merely caught you and looked at you with concern. You hadn’t been able to form words to explain what had just happened to you, wide eyes taking in the male before you– the strong, observant, mild-mannered protector of the court– your male. Your male, with Illyrian tight leathers flush against his firm body, scarred hands holding you so softly, yet you knew his grip would never falter if he believed you not well enough to stand on your own. He would take care of you, he would treat you so well, he would…. He would, once he knew of the bond. Once the bond presented it to himself, then you’d see. Because, there was no way you were going to tell him what had just happened to you, not really. Not when he had become your closest friend, and all your hopes and dreams were suddenly pinned to him. That was just too much to put on him, not then… So you waited. Told yourself you would tell him soon, just not yet… And suddenly two weeks had gone by, and you still had yet to breach the subject.

Mor looked at you with a gentler gaze, sensing your frayed emotions and swiftly connecting the dots. Obviously you were conflicted on the subject, and she chose to dismiss it instead of prying. “Sorry,” she apologized, whispering almost. “First drink on me, okay?”

Immediately you shut out the thoughts of your bond, nodding and putting a smile on. “It’s okay. But I will definitely take you up on that.” You winked at her and she grinned, taking your arm and leading you from the balcony into the common area.

Cassian and Nesta had already meandered inside, now standing by the grand table in the center of the space. The sconces were lit, the glimmer of magic filling the warm space and inviting you inside further. A fire crackled in the hearth, the scent of a meat-pie that must have been dinner lingering in the air, laden with foreign spices that made your nose tingle.

“Glad you ladies could join us,” Cassian said, brows high as he gestured to the tray in the middle of the dining table. There were five shot glasses there, two empty already. The other three were filled to the brim with a clear liquid which you could only guess would surely taste terrible on your sober tongue. Beside it, a crystal container filled with more, ready for refills.

You glanced around as Mor strode forth, unnerved. Nesta had an uncharacteristically amused smile on her pretty lips, her face relaxed as she took a sip from the half-empty glass she held. Amren was nowhere to be seen, and Rhys and Feyre were absent as well– nothing uncommon these days since they did have a small child after all, and another on the way.

But it was always him, the subdued spymaster who now rose from his seat beside the hearth, who you were hoping to see. Azriel looked especially mouth-watering tonight, his dark hair freshly cut and kissing the tops of his ears, dark navy shirt tight across his firm chest, tattoos peeking from the collar and the sleeves rolled halfway up his strong forearms. You tried to look away, feeling like you had become engulfed by the flames licking the iron gate at the edge of the hearth as his hazel eyes raked up and down, and then back up your visage.

The only clue to his approval was a slight twitch of the long, sleek wings behind him, and that could’ve meant anything. Though you had thought you looked good, so obviously he had to like the sight… right?

He walked toward you and smiled just a little, head bowing slightly. His shadows slowly curled toward you in greeting as well, a dark train behind him. “Hello Y/N,” he stated, then nodding to Mor. “Mor.” Deft fingers latched onto one of the remaining shots and he threw it back with ease, not even wincing as the alcohol was instantly drained.

Cassian eyed him with some sort of emotion you couldn’t quite decipher before it was gone. Then he was refilling his and Azriel’s cup. “And what are you two waiting for, then?” He barked, amusement abundant in his strong voice.

Mor and your eyes met, she rolled hers to the heavens, and then shrugged, grabbing her shot as well. You sighed, wondering why these ancient relics always had to go straight for the liquor, not even a chaser present for your poor taste buds. This night would surely be anything but dull.

⸻

There had been multiple rounds of shots before your small party of five left the House of Wind, and though the two men had definitely had more, you, Mor, and Nesta had all sufficiently been toasty as you made your way through the threshold of the bar.

Rita’s was, once again, the place to be on a weekend evening in Velaris.

Mor was already flirting with the bartender within two minutes of entry, getting that drink she had promised you as you wandered through the throng of partiers, toward the elevated side of the venue where the reserved tables stood. Rhys had long ago reserved a table for his Inner Circle on any given day of the week, and the bouncer nodded at the four of you as you made your way to it. Azriel kept a subtle arm out, ghosting behind your waist as club-goers pressed just a bit too close for his liking.

Cassian slid into a wide stool on the other side of the booth first, allowing you and Nesta to take the booth. Azriel contemplated fitting into the booth, but ultimately chose to sit beside his brother in favor of not crushing his wings. Just as the usual containers of various juices and little water bottles appeared in the center of the table, Mor slid into the booth beside you and shoved a top-heavy glass into your hand. She gave a taller, wider glass filled with a sparkling dark red concoction to Nesta who thanked her, keeping the other glass of fizzy yellow to herself.

“None for us?” Cassian hit the table, the ice in the bucket rattling.

Azriel frowned, waving a hand over the space before him and summoning more shot glasses, another pitcher of liquor appearing adjacent to it. Nimble hands made quick work of the shots, passing one to his brother before that striking gaze met yours and he clinked his glass against the one in your hand. He sent it back, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, his sharp jaw pronounced in the flashing colored lights of the club.

It didn’t take long for you to start feeling borderline drunk. Whatever was in the swirling purple cocktail Mor had handed you was packing a punch– either that or the four shots you downed before the flight over here were settling in. You drained the rest of your glass. A drop escaped the corner of your lip and ran down your chin, splattering onto the soft swell of your breast, a torrid hazel gaze following the movement with scrutiny. Catching the look, your body moved on its own volition, and you stood abruptly, the tops of your thighs skimming the edge of the table.

All eyes shot to you as you proclaimed, “So who wants to dance?”

You couldn't manage to look at Azriel again, so you turned to Mor instead, who was looking up at you with nothing but pure amusement. But it was actually Nesta, on your other side, who piped up that she would love to. If your decree had been a surprise, Nesta’s was the shock of the century. But you wouldn’t let it go to waste, and Mor was on the same page as you, the three of you hurrying off to find a spot on the dancefloor.

The club-goers parted as they welcomed you– parting for the three beautiful women entering the center of the room as the bass blasted and upbeat melodies thrummed through your bones. You swore you could feel its return, his hot gaze slinking all around your body, but you forced him out of your mind, not wanting to dampen your mood with the premise of your upcoming responsibilities nor your potential delusions. The shadowsinger could have absolutely anyone he wanted in Velaris– actually, it had been hinted he had already had quite a few in the city, though he’d looked outright deadly at the mention of that from his brothers’ lips. So why were you fated for him? There was surely some other person who could better suit him. The notion irked you and you let out a snarl that turned more into a war-cry for your dancing.

Mor was flipping her hair and moving her arms around herself sensually beside you. Nesta had actually gone so far as to throw her hips into circles right before yours, almost grinding onto your lap. You took it upon yourself to sway and let your fingers run through your hair, showing off your smooth skin and letting your head fall back as you felt the music call to you.

It was quite a show the three of you were putting on, song after song your trio swirled and traded places with each other, staving off any males who attempted approach.

Cassian was not disturbed by the number of lustful gazes his mate was collecting, eyes gleaming with pride and possession as he studied Nesta’s body from afar. But Azriel was quietly fuming beside him, his shadows screeching with fury as a fae male eventually managed to reach your side, sliding a hand around your waist. His gaze was daggers on the suitor, who seemed unphased by the brooding Illyrian in the distance. Nesta moved over to Mor then, observantly giving him space to slide into when you didn’t immediately reject him.

Without taking his glare off the male, Azriel messily poured another shot for himself, threw it back, and then immediately filled another. Finally his brother’s attention snuck over to him, warily monitoring as the shadowsinger tossed back yet another drink. He eyed the shadows, which were bunching and flicking with displeasure around the perimeter of him, then warned, “Az, maybe you should slow down.”

Azriel grimaced, ice cold as he watched you press a palm to the male’s chest, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. “Why ever should I, brother? Does your mating not call for celebration?” His grip was so tight he nearly shattered the glass, but then your suitor’s eyes widened comically, and he scampered away into the crowd, leaving you alone. He felt like he could breathe again, and he sat back slightly, ruffling his wings as if shaking off the tension that saddled them just moments ago.

Cassian watched his brother, noted the gaze that was zeroed in on you, on your every move. He had an inkling for a while before now, but it was hard for him to watch Azriel pretend like he didn’t want to be anything more with you when you looked at him the same way. Before he could impart any words of advice, you were slinking up to the table, glazed eyes magnetized on the spymaster. Cassian wondered if you even knew he was sitting there as well.

“Az, will you dance with me?” you asked, hands behind your back, it made your curves look absolutely irresistible in that violet number.

Cassian was shocked, sure his mouth had fallen on the floor, interest piqued. This was one of the best anniversary presents he ever could’ve asked for, second only to Nesta’s gown strewn on the floor of their room in just a few hours. On one hand, his brother never danced. Maybe only a handful of times had he witnessed such a sight, and that had only been bits and pieces, from nights he barely remembered. On the other, he was sure that you had an absolute hold on the spymaster– if you so much as batted your eyelashes and asked for him to fetch the stars for you, he certainly would.

He had to reign in his scream of glee when Azriel responded, “Of course.”

Even drunk, the shadowsinger was adept. He weaved through the crowd, following you and pointedly ignoring the lingering glances of the crowd, glances that wandered from your elegant radiance onto him– at the powerful aura and ominous shadows rolling off his broad shoulders, his stunning face, or the daunting wings that loomed behind him.

When you found a spot with ample space, your hips started moving on their own accord, and Azriel’s followed suit. Not touching, the two of you filled the space and watched each other, eyes wandering around each other’s bodies unabashedly. Azriel couldn’t help but puff his chest up at the desire that swirled in your glossy orbs, the approval shining from you as you took in the way his body moved before you, his cool cedar scent luring you closer. The alcohol that coursed in his blood allowed him to be bold, and he carefully placed a hand at the bottom of your spine, pulling you into him. The action was welcomed and he tried not to be too excited about your proximity, how the sweet smell of you twirled into his nose and made his brain become a puddle around his feet.

He had never been so close to you– not like this– and never with his guard so low, nearing absent. Never had the marred skin of his palms held your hips, the curve of your ass brushed his thigh, never had you given him that sultry gaze beneath kohl-coated lashes, never had he been so damn hard in a public space like this.

“You look so beautiful tonight.” It slipped out of him like he was possessed, unaware the words had even left him along with the husky whisper of your name.

But that made you smile at him, near bashful at his compliment, your heart slamming in your chest, begging, aching for more of his praise.

It was as if he could hear what your body so desperately desired, for Azriel then murmured, “You are beautiful every night. Every day… agonizingly so.”

His grasp on you was gentle, and suddenly it was all you could feel– he was all you could feel, the music and the crowd blurring around you. He was looking at you with such intensity that your body was singing, your lips parted but no words able to leave you. All you wanted to do in that moment was bridge the gap between his mouth and yours. It took all the willpower in your being to stop yourself from doing so, your mate’s gaze piercing you to the dancefloor while the two of you stood still, just looking at each other.

“Thank you, Azriel.”

Those meager words were all you could get out, too paralyzed to come up with anything better. Honestly, you were surprised you even said anything at all, for fear of confessing your love and your bond right here to him and everyone in the room, drunk and breathless in the middle of Rita’s.

Azriel seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in at the sound of his name on your tongue, blinking and grip loosening on you. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink before his shadows came to cover him, and he coughed awkwardly. “I, um…” he mumbled, stepping back from you and the obvious shock painted on your face, “I’ll get us some more drinks.”

Just like that, he was gone, and the crowd surrounding you seemed to come back into your awareness. You noticed the gazes of Cassian and Nesta settled on you from across the room then, one of befuddlement and the other displeasure. But you didn’t even have a second for the mortification to wash over you, as Mor materialized before you instantly, grabbing your hand and leading you deeper in the crowd. She gave you an inquisitive look once the pair of you had found shelter behind the masses, but didn’t push it, noting the confusion that settled your features even as your body moved to the rhythm once more.

⸻

For the next hour or so, you danced with Mor, and Nesta and Cassian came to join you at some point as well. The Illyrian looked like he wanted to say something to you, but was rendered unable both from the noise of the club and also his mate who had positioned herself between you two. You knew Azriel was stationed at the table, but couldn’t bring yourself to look over at him, even though you were becoming thirstier by the minute and knew he had a drink awaiting you. At some point Mor had wandered back over to the bartender, now with her full rack resting atop the bar and in deep, seemingly-seductive conversation by the way she was looking at them. And even if the couple beside you were well-intentioned, you refused to burden them with your loneliness, finally wishing them congratulations on their anniversary and excusing yourself.

The shadowsinger sat up slightly as you came closer, the evidence of his drinking overt; two crystal carafes stood empty beside a third that was half-full, tiny pools glistening on the tabletop where they missed his glass.

“Is that for me?” you asked as you slid into the seat opposite of him, nodding to the bright cocktail that stood alone at the booth side of the table.

He nodded in return, fingertip tracing the edge of his tiny cup, silky hair slightly disheveled and his eyes not quite as critical as usual. You thanked him quietly, taking a sip before a modest smile bloomed on your lips in unspoken appreciation at the familiar flavor of your favorite drink. The club was slightly spinning by the time the glass was drained, a drunken giggle escaping you at the light feeling that filled you.

Azriel smiled at you, your eyes closed and slowly swaying like grass in sweet summer wind. He did not regret his admission on the dancefloor, for it had been the truth. He just wished he was brave enough to tell you that without taking twenty shots– or however many he’d had– he’d stopped counting after twelve. Even though he was not at all sober himself, he could sense that it was time to get you home. It wasn’t unusual for him to bring you back to the House of Wind; night outings like this usually did end up the two of you as everyone else paired off. Yet for some reason, it felt different tonight. He couldn’t wait to scoop you in his arms and zip through the sky.

“Would you like to go home?” he said, watching amusedly when you opened your eyes and sent him a dazzling grin.

You agreed, “You always read my mind, Az.”

The tall male led you out to the front of Rita’s, catching his brother’s eye and nodding in farewell. A few other drunkards sat on the curb and passed something smoky between them, their low cackles echoing down the otherwise-quiet stone alleyway. The cool crisp smell of the night air washed over the pair of you, the stars still dangling high in the indigo sky. You inhaled deeply, Azriel doing the same as he walked you into the center of the street, wings growing and stretching. You watched as those wings shook the sleep from themselves, swelling the street with silky shadows as they unfurled, as if he had been keeping those at bay just as much. It was a gorgeous sight as he unfastened the top button of his shirt, another ring of tattoos peeking out at the middle of his chest. You could stare at him for ages.

Azriel reached out for you, his wings flapping a couple times to warm up. His gaze was bright, as if the incident inside hadn’t even occurred. But you were eager to feel his touch on you once more, so you skipped over to him instantly, practically jumping in his arms. You’d once worried that you were too heavy to do such things, but after flying with the Illyrian so many times now, you knew you were nowhere near his carrying capacity. He was absurdly strong, just like his brothers– seven siphons adorning his body and channeling the brunt of his power. For him, bringing you to the House of Wind was probably akin to the amount of energy you’d expend skipping a small rock across a placid stream, the whole ordeal over in three seconds.

Little did you know he planned to take the scenic route, if not just to feel you clutching onto him for a few moments longer.

The ground sucked out from underneath you as he sprang up into the night, and you stifled the excitable scream that always tried to escape. He only laughed as he found his place in the sky, the powerful beat of his wings seamlessly blending with the low moan of the wind. Once you had a better grip on him, and his arms secured around you tighter, you adjusted and laughed too– excitement coursing through you. It was such a rare sight, seeing the reticent shadowsinger smile at you unrestrained like that, carefree. All you could do was mirror him before he dove the two of you into the night.

Stars whipped past as he danced through the skies; black, fuschia, violet, and navy all swirling together above you. His shadows tickled at you gently, leaving a cool wake where they touched. Cerulean and cyan gleamed from the siphons on the backs of the hands that clutched onto you, and you catapulted forward suddenly. All you could do was latch onto the hard muscles that secured you as Azriel took you for a roller coaster ride.

He dove and looped and held onto you, relishing the feeling of your skin touching his, the smell of your hair that whipped around him– the feeling of you gripping him so hard– hard enough that maybe it would be enough for him to leave you alone once you arrived at the house instead of pressing you up into the balcony pillars and pleasuring you until you passed out, like he so deeply wanted to do.

The joyride could only go on for so long before it had to end; the two of you were still considerably drunk and only able to handle a few loop-de-loops on the journey. Azriel had managed to sneak in an extra minute or two of air-time, not wanting to risk your suspicion nor take advantage of you. The liquor was beginning to really hit him at full effect now, stumbling a bit as he landed on your balcony. It was only two extra steps, nothing major. But Azriel always flew with such precision that you knew you weren’t the only one feeling the alcohol.

Now that you were looking at him again, you found yourself mesmerized by his ethereal beauty. Long lashes pointed down to you as he continued to hold you, despite him now standing firmly in the middle of your balcony. Hazel eyes flicked over your face and he smiled just a little for you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, you never really could– but he definitely had a great many thoughts flickering behind his gentle gaze.

You peeped as your back touched something, and you realized he had walked over to the chaise-lounge perched under the bow of your balcony– trying to set you down. You looked back at the chair and then at him. Dark brows knitted beneath his tousled hair as he loosened his grip, but you remained clinging to him.

Azriel murmured your name when he tried to deposit you there and you refused, again.

“Can you…” you whispered, reluctant to leave his embrace. It felt so good to have him touching you, and your inhibitions were at an all time low as your mate held you so dearly, his eyes filled with concern. “Can you put me on my bed, Az?”

The Illyrian blinked, wings ruffling before quickly tucking in. He pulled you up again and carried you inside your room, princess-style. It was how he always held you during flight, but somehow when his feet were on the ground it felt completely different… not quite as innocent.

Your room was lit with beams of moonlight pouring through the arched windows and sheer curtains, yet the male’s shadows flicked over the tips of the candles by your bed and they lit as he willed them to. It was spacious enough inside that your medicinal books and tomes spread out all over the area, along with your trinkets and clothes. The strong smell of you clung to the walls, the sofa, the bed. He had never been this deep into your room for this long before, and he was sure the alcohol wasn’t the only substance he was drunk on.

You savored the sight of him while he wandered toward your bed. You allowed yourself to dream of the day your male would know just what you were to him, and imagined he was about to ravage you instead of dump you and leave you in your big bed all alone. Your hips moved slightly against his front, and you closed your eyes in embarrassment as heat began to rush in between your legs. It wasn’t really wrong of you to be turned on by your mate, especially after drinking so much and dancing with him the way you had. But the bond was still your secret, and you didn’t know if Azriel even felt anything slightly like how you felt for him; if he had any inkling that you were made to be together.

You chanced one more look at him as he set you atop the soft duvet, fluffy pillows plush against your back. His inky hair fell between his eyes as he leaned forward and laid you down fully, sitting on the very edge of the bed and turning to draw the blanket at your feet up and over you before he left. His back muscles rippled through his shirt, pumped after flying for just a few minutes. Another tattoo teased you from the side of his neck, and at the muscled sight of him, you wondered if he knew that he was the sexiest male to ever exist.

He turned to you, leaving the fuzzy throw halfway up your exposed legs, a dark blush staining his cheeks as he looked at you incredulously. You blinked at him, not comprehending that you had just said that last thought aloud. He looked so incredibly flustered that it only took you a moment to realize your mistake, a hand slapping over your mouth as if that would somehow make him unhear your profession.

“I– I meant,” you gasped as you sat up on your elbows, breasts bouncing and sitting heavily on your chest at the sudden movement. Azriel glanced down at the action, the emotion wiping off his face and instantly an interested mask of cool was in its place. “I…” you stopped breathing as he leaned closer to you, his breath fanning your neck and his shadows curling around your ankles.

Azriel’s eyes were searing into you, burning the shape of your body into the covers you laid upon. The alcohol was giving him too much confidence, your praise soaking his bones with white-hot desire as he appraised your figure that was pressed between his hard body and the soft mattress. “Is that really what you think of me?” he inquired, the words tight, restrained. Are you sure, his eyes seemed to ask.

“Yes,” you answered immediately, the word rushing out of you before you could think to lie. Maybe that was how the victims of his spymaster tactics felt, too, under the scrutiny in his never-ending hazel gaze. But you couldn’t think about that now– couldn’t think about anyone else, because then Azriel was kissing you.

He crawled over you, caging your body under his large frame as his lips conquered yours. You were in too much shock, and too much bliss to refuse– moaning as his tongue wandered into your mouth, a rough hand gripping your waist as the other gripped onto the bend of your headboard, hard.

This was wrong.

Both of you knew it, deep down, but neither wanted to stop, and neither of you cared now. Your bodies were strung out, needing to be connected so terribly after spending so much time together with not so much as a single kiss. Now that you had had just a tiny taste of it, you couldn't control yourself any more. And Azriel wanted you, the evidence of it pressing into you through his pants and your dress.

On the same page, he groaned as he sat up, pulling you with him and his hands squeezing the plush of your thighs, shoving your dress up over your hips. You frantically unbuttoned his top, and he ripped the cloth off of him in impatience, cupping your ass and lifting you in one arm as he got rid of his pants with his free hand. You slipped forward so that your hips slotted over his, your slick panties rubbing against the thick, exposed length of him. The both of you gasped at the contact, and he quickly unzipped your gown and threw it over your shoulders into the darkness of your room.

Your tits spilled out against his broad, inked chest and he growled, hips bucking against yours and sliding his hard cock against your core. Your head tossed back and his mouth was instantly claiming the skin of your neck, licking there and teeth sinking in just hard enough for you to cry out. The liquor only made everything more intense, your skin exploding wherever he touched, kissed, sucked.

“Please Az,” you pleaded, desperate for more of him. He kissed you again, laying you back onto the pillows once more before he sunk down and sucked a nipple into his mouth. Your body writhed in his arms, pleasure shooting through you. His other hand wandered up the inside of your thigh, trailing closer to where you needed him.

He let out a delectable sound when the heel of his palm pushed into your clit through your panties, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass cheeks. He snarled as your wetness soaked his hand, your body ready for him to take you and claim you as his. Before you could beg again, his fingers slipped under the lace and he ripped the garment into shreds, exposing your dripping pussy to his greedy stare. All you could do was moan and arch your back, nipples stiff and body flushed, bare before your male.

Azriel dragged you to the bottom of the mattress, then sinking to his knees before you. He spread you before his face, inspecting the most intimate part of you that glistened just for him. The way he was looking at you made a new wave of embarrassment wash over you, but before you could complain, he was leaning into you.

“So perfect,” he said sincerely, not seeming to care as he took a deep breath of your arousal, eyes filled with a wicked glint. Tattooed arms slithered up under your thighs and scarred hands cupped your hips as his tongue roved over your pussy.

You were moaning unashamedly as he licked at you, kissing your clit and closing his eyes to savor the taste of you, recording each spot that had you crying out and giving them extra attention. Your body was shaking in his grasp, and you keened when his rough fingertips prodded your sopping hole. They slipped in, thrusting a few times before you were cumming, squirming and eyes rolling back. Those fingers retreated and rubbed the fresh slick along your slit, ensuring everything was nice and wet.

He stood then, cock tall and thick at the dip of the V between his hips. You tried to sit up to get a better look at it, eyes widening at the size of him and then realizing his wings had spread out behind him. Maybe that thing they said about wingspan was true after all.

“Come here,” he ordered and you shuffled down to the edge of the bed to meet him.

You got onto your hands and knees before him, and he raised a brow as he watched your hand wrap around him. His hips thrust forward and he sucked in a breath as you took him into your mouth. He was too big to fit all the way so you went down as far as you could, tongue caressing behind your lips as you pushed him in and out of your throat. Once enough saliva had gathered in your mouth you spat into your hands and twirled them around the base of him, ample length for them to jerk over. Syncing the churn of your hands with your mouth, Azriel began panting, hands tucking your hair back so he could watch your pretty lips slide over him. He only allowed you a minute before he tore you off of him, refusing to finish without feeling the heaven your sweet cunt had promised him as he tasted it earlier.

Desire pulsed through you as he tossed you onto your back and grasped your ankles, pulling you down so your core rested at the end of the bed, just inches away from his cock. He grabbed himself at the base, pointing the tip onto your hole and sliding the underside of it up and down your slit. Your body was tensing, twitching and trying to pull him inside you, where he was meant to be. “Az… Azriel I need you,” you sobbed, delirious.

Azriel complied with your wishes, pushing the tip of himself inside your wet pussy before gently thrusting in. Each measured swing of his hips buried him deeper inside of you and you were thrust into another dimension as he hit those sacred, secret spots deep within you. You began clawing at his back as your legs folded on either side of him, submissive to the onslaught of pleasure he was showering you in. You couldn’t think, could barely breathe as he pumped into you, your walls hugging tight around him, begging he never leave, trying to convince him to stay here forever. He was moaning into your clavicle, wings fluttering as he fucked you deep, sweat beginning to dribble down the black designs carved into his firm torso.

You couldn’t stop calling his name out, panting in his ear as your core took the shape of him. He was shuddering in pleasure, one hand cupping both your tits together and the other coming to curl around your back, hand supporting the back of your neck, pressing you closer to him. His tongue wrestled with yours again, thrusts becoming deeper, harder. Inked hips slapped against yours, the sound of your skin smacking mingling with both your ragged moans. You were close again, the passion in his gaze and his body’s pure intent surging with every thrust.

Suddenly his shadows joined, slithering onto the bed around you and securing your limbs to the blankets. They flicked over every inch of your skin, tasting you, as if committing the sight and the feel of you to memory. They swirled over your hips, the promise of pleasure whispering in your ears as they crawled toward your nipples and your clit. You cried when they stimulated you, Azriel’s gaze bright as he watched them ravish you, just as he’d always imagined. They intensified everything, and it only took a few more pumps of his throbbing cock inside of you to make you unravel. Your cunt squeezed him ruthlessly, crying as your orgasm surged through your body.

Azriel took in the sight of you, riding the ecstasy he had provided you with, and his own release came closer. He kept pushing into your slippery core, deep and hard now as his body begged him to finish inside you, for him to fill you up with his seed. He toed over the cusp of his climax, pressing his lips to yours as he uttered, “I love you,” and shot his load as deep as he could into you. His wings flapped a few times as he came, taut body shaking with euphoria.

Your heart swelled at his confession and you smiled, reaching for him to join you on the bed. He took you into his arms, holding you tightly against himself as he picked you up. His shadows brought forth a small, soft cloth and he held it underneath you as he pulled out of you, his essence dribbling out. You whimpered at the sensation, not wanting him to leave you just yet. But he set you back against the pillows once more, tucking your naked form under the covers and joining you there. He scooped your back into his chest, taking a deep breath of your scent from behind your ear. His wings hung off the side of your mattress slightly, his shadows forming a ring around the bed to guard your resting figures.

He fell asleep quickly, the scarred fingers trailing along your forearm falling slack as his breaths deepened. You savored every second you could, fighting your exhaustion until you had no strength left and peaceful slumber took hold of you.

“I love you too, Az…”

⸻

The chirp of sparrows on the balcony awoke you the next morning. Your head was pounding, your mouth parched and eyes bleary. Sun shone brightly into your room from the open curtains at the balcony, and you groaned, wondering if your magic could shoot the damn birds just so they’d shut up. Your stomach did not feel good either, an acidic burn at the bottom of your throat. You shifted, a hand coming to press at your forehead. Only you couldn’t– your arm was tucked under something warm and heavy.

Your eyes flew open.

Beside you was your mate, his naked chest on display as he laid asleep in your bed. His mouth was open just a crack, and his silky black hair was messy, his arm secure around you. Your heart shot into your mouth and you almost threw up in astonishment. You had spent the night together?

Oh god.

You had spent the night together.

Heat blazed your cheeks as you recalled last night’s events, recognizing the dull ache between your legs. Light bruises littered your curves, fingers wandering over a particularly tender spot in the dip between your neck and shoulder. The ghost of his touch still lingered on your skin, and it took you a moment to realize his shadows had come to say good morning to you, caressing your skin.

You glanced over at him, but he was still asleep. It was only once a shadow trailed off your arm onto his neck and up to his ear that he opened his eyes, gaze meeting yours instantly.

You pulled the sheet up over your cleavage a little better, wondering if there was any decency left for you to hide from him. “Good morning,” you blurted out, not sure what to say.

Azriel sat up swiftly, groaning as a hand flew to his forehead and he cradled it, obviously hungover just as you were. His wings stretched behind him and he dragged his palms down his face, swearing quietly.

You tried to calm down, your heart beating faster as the moment neared. You would have to talk about it now, right? Now that you had mated, didn’t he feel the bond in place? You didn’t remember what exactly had transpired last night, but surely he had to have discovered your bond. How could he fuck you and not have it snap into place for him?

“How do you feel?” you asked, watchful as you gripped the sheets with clammy hands.

The shadowsinger sighed, one of his shadows running up his palm and over his shoulders. “Like shit, to be honest,” he replied, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your eyes. He looked at you then, eyes dropping to your chest and then the sheet you were holding, then to his own body. He picked up the sheet and looked at his lap, eyes going wide as he glanced over at you again. “Y/N, we…”

You nodded slowly, watching his every move to figure out what he was feeling exactly.

Pink dusted his high cheekbones, gaze becoming apologetic. “I’m so sorry Y/N,” he started.

Suddenly your headache didn’t hurt so bad, and the nausea in your stomach heightened. “Why are you sorry?” You whispered, begging for him to be joking. He couldn't still not know…

Azriel frowned at your emotional gaze. “I… I don’t want to give you the wrong idea,” he continued, and it felt like he had just stabbed your heart. “I never should have touched you last night. We were drunk, it wasn’t right. I’m sorry.”

Rejection.

It was excruciating, as if Truth-Teller was carving your insides out.

“I see.” Your words were hollow now, but you couldn’t stop the words from falling from your lips. “Do you regret it?” You hated that it had slipped out, because you knew his reply would only hurt you even more.

The shadows around your hips dragged at you, crying as they were pulled away from you, their master slipping from the sheets, pulling on his pants. Azriel couldn’t look at you, avoiding your gaze as he fumbled around for his shirt.

“Did you mean it?” You asked quietly, so quiet Azriel almost didn’t hear it. You didn’t know if he knew what you were referring to, if he knew you were asking him if he loved you.

It didn’t matter, because he chose not to reply, slipping out of your door and leaving you to drown in melancholy. You had your answer.

𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘱. 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 8𝘬 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘙𝘌. 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 & 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥~ 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨!!^^

next part

#azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel angst #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #angelshadowsinger #StBT series

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undertheorangetree · 7 months

Text

To Be Alone With You

Summary- Osferth becomes infatuated with a healer from the continent.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female Reader. Osferth's got a big old crush. Like he’s down bad. Blood. Minor injuries. Shoddy knowledge of 10th century healing. Blasphemy. Admittedly more plot than porn. Cunnilingus. Masturbation. P in V sex. Against a wall in a church no less.

Author's Note- The fact that Osferth canonically fucks and is good at it to the point where women fight over him lives in my mind rent free. Anyway read the rest on ao3 link is belowww

dividers by me lmao

Osferth likes to think that he's different now. Or at least, that he has changed since first joining Uhtred. He's grown further into himself- his confidence, his ability to be a warrior, that he himself has changed as a whole. He's stronger now and though he still values his faith, it does not feel so all consuming, an anchor around his throat forever reminding him of his bastardry. He is proud of the man he has become, of the one that he continues to grow into, and it feels right that, over time, he has changed for the better.

But he seems to forget all that the moment he lays eyes on her.

She had arrived with a traveling priest from the continent, one who had come with the intention of spreading the word of God to the infamously heretical ealdorman. And though she traveled with a priest and his retinue, she wore no habit. Her hair was loose, catching the waning rays of the sun and he felt his heart stutter in his chest when he caught the colour of it shining in the light. She had caught his eye then, as their little ship docked, and smiled at him so brightly he felt himself fall back into the boy he once was, the cursed baby monk.

Though Uhtred had wanted to throw the whole group out at the first sign of a sermon, he agreed to give them a night in the inn out of respect for how long they had been traveling- after they had paid a small fee, of course- and Osferth had managed to catch her in the tavern later that night.

The words had caught in his throat the moment he tried to speak, but Finan had been with him and it had been easy for him to ask if they could join her and begin a conversation. He had nursed his mug of ale while they spoke, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of her further, and joined Finan in highlighting all that Coccham had to offer. Finan had quickly become drunk, but they had found a joint amusement in that and he had revelled in every smile she cast his way. They learned that she was the priest's healer, having studied in Frankia before deciding to join the priest in order to see what the world had to offer. She told them of her travels to Burgundy, Provence, and the Northern Byzantine Empire, regailing them with stories Osferth could only dream about. Uhtred had joined them midway through the conversation, allowing Osferth the opportunity to join her on her bench, their arms brushing against each other.

By the time morning came, the priest had gone and she had stayed on as their healer. Uhtred offered her a cottage and the promise to retrieve everything she could possibly need. He had grinned at Osferth the moment she turned her back on them, raising his eyebrows playfully, and he had felt his face begin to burn from how obvious his immediate infatuation must have been.

At first, he simply admired her from afar. Though he is proud of all the progress he has made to become the man he is now, that all seems to melt away when he is around her. More often than not, he stumbles over his words when he tries to speak to her, face burning scarlet and heart beating faster in his chest. It is clear that the others know of his infatuation, as they do everything in their power to facilitate some kind of interaction between them. Inviting him over when they are speaking to her, offering her his assistance whenever she needs it. Finan had gone so far as to shove him in her direction whenever he felt like causing trouble, though thank God he had only stumbled into her once. She had done little more than laugh then but he had avoided her for two days out of sheer humiliation.

It is safer to simply keep his distance. Though he enjoys talking to her- more than enjoys it, if he is honest with himself- he does little more than embarrass himself when he tries. He wants more, he wants everything, but for now he will settle for admiration. Distance.

It seems kinder. To both himself and her.

He can see her now, walking back to her cottage with a basket full of herbs and flowers she must have picked nearby the river. There is a woman walking with her, one he doesn't know well enough to know her name, but they are laughing as if they are close friends. The other woman reaches out to rest a hand on her arm and he watches longingly as she raises her own to clutch at the other woman's fingers. He cannot hear what they're saying over the echoing clack of the wooden swords the boys are using to practice- a sparring match he is admittedly supposed to be monitoring- but she has a pull on him he can't quite explain and he can’t bring himself to look away.

It comes with consequences.

Read the rest here

#osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth smut #osferth fanfic #osferth fanfiction #osferth tlk #osferth the last kingdom #osferth x fem!reader #the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic #the last kingdom x reader #tlk x reader #tlk #the last kingdom

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vase-of-lilies · 11 months

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A Hard Week

❀ Mommies!WandaNat x Little!Reader (F)

❀ Stress, MD/LG themes, slight coercion but good coercion, baby talk, little reader, slight psychotic break but just a breakdown, crying, cuddling, poly relationship

❀ Request: A fic where reader is having a really bad week and just breaks down one day because she’s so anxious and stressed. Wanda and Nat see this and takes the time out to help her get little and let her relax.

❀ A/N: Request sent in by @fragilepuppi! Thank you for your kind words, and I am thinking about moving the toy lion, the scarlet witch and the tiny wardrobe to Tumblr again! But thank you for the super kind words and thank you for reblogging and being so interactive with my stories:) Gif by me:)

Finals week. The dreaded week in college where professors become serious, strict, and pushy. The week where they don’t care about your mental health, only your grades. You, an overachiever is their most vulnerable target for pushiness. If they say to redo it, you don’t ask why, you find what you did wrong on your own and fix it yourself. Feeling like an inconvenience if you ask for help.

It was taking a toll on you, and Wanda and Nat could tell. You would shut yourself in your room for hours on end, studying and taking notes like a machine. But you aren’t a machine, you needed to eat, drink, shower, and sleep. And you did none of that. You pushed your own needs away to keep your head in the game to get a good final grade. It was your last year after all, before you got your degree!

Every hour, Wanda or Natasha would come in with a new glass of water and some snacks wanting to make sure that you were getting what you need. But to their disappointment they found a full plate and a half drunken cup of water, the ice fully melted and condensed onto the outside of the cup. As your music blasted into your headphones, they could only do so much. They would give you a kiss, and watch you for a few minutes before closing your door and waiting for the next hour to arrive.

“Im really worried about her, she is pushing herself to the limit and we haven’t seen our little girl in a while.” Wanda says to Nat as they cuddle on the couch. They were so worried about you, and only wanted to see you happy and not stressed. Natasha agrees, sighing as she holds Wanda to her chest.

“I know hon, I just want to scoop her up and hold her until she falls asleep. There are more empty coffee cups in her trash than empty water bottles. This week is killing her.”

Wanda sighed into her girlfriends shirt and Watched the slideshow of pictures that filled the TV screen when it turned off. The pictures of you three made her smile. Your eyes were bright and full of emotion, not tired and emotionless. Your smile was genuine, not a simple acknowledgment of Wanda or Nat when they come into your room.

“I hate how much she loves to work. She works too hard, and I don’t know how to help her. I know this week is important to her, but even with the coffee she still looks exhausted. I want our little girl back.” Natasha nods and kisses Wandas forehead, and thinks of a plan to help you take a break.

What the women were not expecting was you to come out of your room. Tears were pooled in your eyes and you looked so tired. They sat up a little bit and looked at each other, knowing that they need to bring their little out of her shell. “Hi Angel, its good to see you out of your room.” Wanda says, reaching out her hands to you.

As you see them happy to see you, the dam breaks and you let out a small sob as tears fall down your cheeks. Wanda gently pulls you to sit in between her and Nat and she rubs your back to comfort you.

“Oh angel, shh, its ok, your mommies are here.” Wanda whispers, looking to Nat with the look. She reaches into the drawer next to the couch and brings out your teddy bear pacifier. She doesn’t push it on you just yet, wanting you to come out when you felt ready.

“Doll, can you tell us what’s wrong?” Natasha asks you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I- I just can’t t-t-take it anymore. Mr. Jordan j-just wants to see me suffer. He doesn’t want m-me to succeed.” Your tears fall onto your shirt, and you clench your fists in your lap. “He told me to redo a paper four times, and I still can’t tell what’s wrong with it. I ran it th-through grammar check after grammar check and he just throws it in his digital trash bin like its a line scribbled by a 2 year old. I- I want to quit school, Im so done!”

Wanda looks down at you with sad eyes, and says “Its alright Angel, can you tell mommy what you need?” She tries to coax you into your little space, knowing you need it more than they do. Natasha lays you back on the couch and cups your cheek. “You can trust us, doll. Can you talk to your mommies so we can help?”

Their voices become a little higher, the type of tone they talk to you with when you go into your little space. You subconsciously took note of this, and the little voice inside your head whispers for you to let go. You curl in on yourself as you let your little space take over.

“Wanna cuddle... M-maybe baf?” Your pronunciation is a little wonky, now that you are falling into your little space by the second. Nat smiles and shows you your paci. Your eyes light up and you happily open your mouth as she puts the binkie to your lips. Wanda smiles and kisses your forehead as you lay against her, Natasha pulling you both into her lap on the big couch.

“Such a good little doll, your mommies got you, you’ll be ok.” Natasha whispers, running her fingers through your tangled hair, being careful not to pull too hard on getting the knots out. Wanda gently tickles your arm to relax you, and your eyes become heavy.

“Seepy, so seepy…” You whisper passed the pacifier in your mouth, and Natasha looks down at you. “Sleep little doll, we’ve got you, and you’re in a safe place. Not even mean Mr. Jordan can get you here.” She smiles at your little giggle, knowing that your professor is your biggest enemy when you are little.

As the two women calm you down and wipe your tears, Wanda uses her telepathic powers to start the bathtub from the couch. Your ears perk at the sound of the running water, but you fall back asleep in her arms. “We’ll get you in the bath when you wake up, doll. Ok?” You nod in your sleep, sniffling every now and then but finally able to calm down in your mommies arms.

It was just what you needed in the hardest and most stressful week of your college life. Relaxing in your girlfriend's arms in a mental place that makes you feel safe. You are so grateful for them, and couldn’t thank them enough. Well, maybe when you are back in your big space you could find a way to thank them. For now, you are happy and getting better, just as your mommies wanted to help you.

#wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff x you #Wandanat x reader #mommy wanda #Mommy natasha #Wandanat x little reader #little reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda x female reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #Mommy!Wandanat x Little!Reader

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gojos-thot-patrol · 9 months

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Sukuna, funny, "You seem really thirsty, have you considered drinking water?"🌶️please🫶

Oh man, idk why but I really struggled with this one! I think it's cause I always get in my head and worry that you guys won't vibe with my comedy?? I don't know. BUT in the end, I'm happy with the result!

Now Presenting...

Starring: Ryomen Sukuna, and a reader that just wants to know peace

Sukuna leaned back in the natural hot springs, closing his eyes and letting the warm water relax his sore muscles. He hated it here. The hot water made the oppressive, muggy summer air even more suffocating, and the open nature of the hot springs left him vulnerable to attack. But supposedly, emphasis on supposedly, the water had a healing property. It was supposed to mend his wounds, give him more energy, a longer life, amazing head, or some shit like that. This water was supposed to be God's gift to man according to the village's religious radicals, but so far the only thing it was giving Sukuna was heat stroke.

"Oh, I'm sorry My Lord, I didn't think you'd be here," a familiar voice said. Sukuna slowly opened his eyes and let a grin slip. Before him stood his favorite concubine. Maybe this spring could do good on one of its promises after all. "May I join you?" You asked.

"You may." Ryomen said, his eyes burning into you as you dropped your robe. Sukuna had seen your naked form countless times before, and every time excited him more than the last. You were beautiful, more breathtaking than any mere mortal had any right to be. And you were all his. Who wouldn't be excited about that? He watched your every movement like a hawk: the way you slowly lowered yourself into the water, how your chest puffed out when you went to stretch your shoulders, and the glimmer in your eye when you caught him staring.

"Enjoying the show?" You asked.

"Isn't that joke a little over done?" He asked back, tilting his head like a lost puppy. You couldn’t help but giggle.

"Ok, fine then, be like that. I just won't banter with you anymore" you shrugged, playfully sticking your tongue out at him

"You should put that tongue back in your mouth before I give you something to do with it." Sukuna warned, raising an eyebrow to prove the point.

"I can't tell if that's a threat or an invention to be honest," you confessed, throwing his expression back at him. He shrugged in return.

"I'm waiting to find out which one it is myself." He admitted

"Well keep waiting." You scoffed, "I'm here to get clean, not harassed by a pervert."

"Why not do both?"

"Because I get enough of the latter at the temple I live at. The lord of the place is obsessed with me," you faux bragged, "every time he sees me he has to put his hands on me in some way, or his cock inside me."

"He sounds like a great guy." Sukuna grinned, "he has great taste in women, I bet he's smart too. And handsome and-"

"Deeply annoying." You cut him off before he could get too full of himself. "He's an arrogant bastard with zero control of his temper. Honestly, I'm shocked he hasn't killed me yet." To be fair, Sukuna was shocked he hadn't killed you yet too. He'd thought about it, countless times. Hell, he was thinking about it right now. But, something about you was too endearing to him for him to actually go through with the act.

“With a mouth like that, I’m shocked too. You must be a phenomenal lay.” In theory, that was Sukuna dolling out one of his rare compliments, though, the tone of voice had the edge of an insult to it. Not being really sure how to respond, you focused on your original goal: bathing and relaxing. You cupped your hands under the water, bringing it up and letting it flow over your head and limbs. You could feel scarlet eyes studying your body as you did so, watching the way spring trickled down the curves of your body. You looked over at the king of curses, and was positive that this is what a mouse felt like once an owl decided it was for dinner.

“You look thirsty!” You said, trying to take your nerve back, “Have you considered drinking any water?”

“No actually, I haven’t.” Sukuna said, swimming over to you. He brushed a lock of your wet hair behind your ear, sending cool shivers down your spine, “It’s a good idea though.”

“Thanks, I thought of it all by myself.” you beamed. He couldn’t help but smirk back as he took your hips in his hands, pulling you closer to him.

“Did you now?” he hummed, “Well in that case, I have to try it.” He picked you up under the water and rested you on his hips, prompting you to wrap your legs around him. You already weighed next to nothing to him, but thanks to the water you might as well have been made of air. His lips found your collar bone. He ran his tongue up your neck, lapping up the water that was dripping down it.

Which…was quite frankly unsanitary as hell, and definitely not recommended. But I mean, He was a curse so, what did he have to fear from doing that? Dying? Hardly. And besides, the little sounds you made as he left his mark on you made it worth it. You felt his teeth dig into you, right where your jaw met your neck, and felt the subsequent bruise bloom there. You tangled your fingers into his fluffy pink hair, tugging softly as you happily accepted his affections. He moved the two of you to the edge of the water, and laid you down on the bank, spreading your legs nice and pretty for him.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve been alone, “ Sukuna noted, placing a villainously gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“I mean, we're technically not alone now,” You reminded him, never having been one to hold your tongue, “Anyone could walk up on us at any moment.”

“Good.” Sukuna chuckled, “I hope they do.” Before you could say anything smart, Ryomen ran his tongue along your slit and to your clit, sucking sharply at the bundle of nerves. You yelped in response, both hands finding his hair again as pleasure coursed through you. His mouth sent electric ripples of pleasure through you, turning you into putty in his hands.

“Fu-fuck me..” You muttered softly, only for annoyance to fill you as he removed his head from in between your thighs.

“Really, that fast?” He asked, attempting to move up your body. Key word, attempting as you very quickly pushed him back down.

“Oh no, you’re not done down there yet.”

“But you said-!”

“Get to work!” you demanded. Ryomen rolled his eyes, trying to hide his chuckle as he resettled in between your legs. Any other woman would have been slaughtered for such disrespect, but you knew you were special; and you had no intention of using that power for good. Ryomen worked quicker this time, licking his initials into your clit while two of his long fingers slipped inside you, quickly finding your g-spot. Molten heat pooled in your stomach with every movement from him, building up into an inferno of bliss and desire.

“Fuck Ryo-!” You tried to warn him, but pleasure overtook you before you could, a volcano erupting inside of you spreading hellfire and ecstasy through every corner of your body. Your legs clamped down around Ryomens head, locking him in place. Not that he was complaining, he gladly ate you out though your climax, feeling the way your thighs trembled around his temples. You gushed into his mouth, filling his senses with nothing but you. Yea, he couldn't really breath super well, but that was fine with him. Really, what better way to die than in between the legs of a beautiful woman?

Before he could make peace with whatever higher power he was about to meet though, your legs went limp. Jagged breaths raked through your body, leaving you shaking like a leaf. You looked adorable like that, vulnerable and dazed from pleasure. He pulled you back into the water with him, bracing you on his hips.

“Feel good, slut?” He asked, already positioning you over his cock.

“So good..” You muttered, bracing yourself for what you knew was next, “You did a good job, like eight outta ten.”

“Well, you- wait, only eight?!” He was so genuinely offended by the number you had to laugh at him.

“That’s what I said,” You shrugged, “You’ve done better.”

“I’ll show you better,” He growled, lowering you into his thick cock. Your body tensed at the feeling, and the tight sound you let out was a little more than embarrassing. “Let's go for a perfect score this time.” He chuckled. You dug your nails deep into his shoulders as he nestled himself inside of you, stretching you to your very brink. No matter how many times you took Sukuna, it always felt like the first, and it always made you feel dizzy with pleasure.

“You feel so fucking good,” He groaned, bucking his hips up into you, perfectly stroking your g-spot, “It’s almost like you were made to be my cocksleeve.” he set a punishing pace, using the water to help bounce you on him. It reawakened your previously fried nerves, making you feel alive with electricity. A coil started to quickly form in your stomach, your overly sensitive body treating every tingle it felt like an explosion. You moaned out his name. Or at least you were pretty sure you did. Honestly, your senses were kinda hazy right now, the only thing that felt real was the cock absolutely punishing your insides.

“You were a lot of talk before slut, what happened?” Sukuna mocked, “What happened? Nothing left to say.”

“Fuck you.” You moaned out.

“You are.” Sukuna noted. He could feel his own climax coming on fast. You were warm, and the way your cunt pulled him in made him feel feral. He had to do something quick, because he’d be damned if he came before you did. You screamed as you felt a warm tongue lap at your clit, the new stimulation sending you into overdrive. You looked down into the clear water to see he opened another mouth. It was an obscene display.

“Enjoying the show?” Sukuna laughed. You growled as you bit down on his neck, which only added fuel to his fire.

“You're gonna have to bite harder than that to leave a mark Y/n.” he said, punctuated with a particularly rough thrust. It sent you overboard, spiraling head first into bliss. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton and your blood felt like it was made of smoke. You felt light as wave after wave of euphoria overtook you, pulling you under the sea of endorphins.

Sukuna wasn’t far behind. The clenching of your cunt coupled with the way your teeth sank into him brought him over, cumming deep inside of you. He fucked you through both of your highs, drawing your pleasure out for every seconds he could. In the aftermath he leaned against the bank of the spring, holding you close to his chest while you regained the strength to walk back to the temple.

“So how was that?” Suluna asked, running his claws through your hair. You laughed a bit and nodded.

“Nine out of ten.”

“Nine?!”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #nobody likes you when you're 23 #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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readatrix · 1 year

Text

“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.” ― Jorge Luis Borges

#LFL #little free library #tyler johnson was here #a study in scarlet women #copper son #the past is red #jay coles #sherry thomas #Again But Better #march #john lewis #chistine riccio #incense and sensibility #sonali dev #sharon m draper #literary quotes #jorge luis borges #suzanne park #so we meet again

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boombox-fuckboy · 1 year

Note

Hey. Could you rec any podcasts with sapphic couples as their mains? Or a sapphic story. And so on. I only really know about where the stars fell and Alice isn't dead.

You're off to a strong start. Here's 20, there's more out there, but I tried to pick a variety. I'm going to put a ★ next to the ones I think will fit best, but they're all good.

Arden: (Fictional "True Crime", Investigative, Comedy). On the 25th of December, 2007, heiress and young actress Julie Capsom crashed her car into a tree and fled into a nearby forest clearing, leaving a trail that seemingly vanished into thin air, and a dismembered torso in the trunk. A decade later, Bea, the first reporter on the scene, and Brenda, a detective on the case, are hosting a true crime podcast about it, and neither is remotely impressed with what the other has to say. Arden is also a retelling of various Shakespeare plays.

The Author's Anathema: (Horror) Looking for some extra cash, and with some help from her girlfriend Eleanor, college student Natalie takes a small job to narrate an audiobook for a reclusive anonymous author. The book being a horror wouldn't be such a bother, but the stories within are... Familiar. Too familar.

The Beacon: (Urban Fantasy) Bee is a perpetually anxious university student who discovers she has the ability to create fire, and decides to start a podcast to find others like herself. She quickly discovers she's not alone, but a series of bizzare animal attacks suggest superpowered freshers are far from the only strange thing on campus.

The Department of Variance of Somewhere, Ohio: (Weird Fiction, Horror, Sci-Fi) On day one of a new job at the Department of Variance, in the middle of her workplace orientation, Jasmine's new workplace goes into lockdown. Guided via walkie-talkie by Scarlet, an experienced security officer, Jasmine must make her way down 20-odd shifting floors of strange entities and experiments. Ideally without becoming one of them. As a disclaimer, this one is the only addition to this list that isn't actively romantic yet, however there are canonically sapphic characters, and I am fairly confident it's headed that way.

★ Elixir: (Urban Fantasy, Romance) Set in a fantasy world's equivalent of the american prohibition, lawmakers daughter Elsie approaches someone unexpected in search of her missing sister: Vera, an alchemist and propriator of the local now-elicit hush bar.

The Far Meridian: (Magical Realism) An agorophobic young woman wakes up to discover her lighthouse home has moved overnight. It quickly becomes clear this isn't a once-off, and she decides to use this as an opportunity to search for her missing brother, having some strange encounters along the way.

Interference: (Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Romance) Jacq is a D&D podcaster. Geneva is an orc scientist studying ancient human ruins the next world over. What happens when these women from different realities begin picking up each other's broadcasts?

Khôra Podcast: (Sci-Fi) Somewhere between adapted from and inspired by various greek myths, Khôra follows four women who deserved better (Atalanta, Echo, Medea, and Medusa) on a grand space adventure to find the golden fleece while keeping out of the reach of the olympians who own and run the galaxy.

★ Mabel: (Mystery, Supernatural, Horror, Romance). The live-in carer of a dying elderly woman attempts to contact her granddaughter, with little success. The contents of voicemails only get stranger, and what starts as a subtley creepy mystery-horror develops to poetic lesbian fae body-horror.

★ Midnight Radio: (Light Supernatural, Romance). Sybil McIntyre, host of the ever-popular 1950's nightly radio hour, begins exchanging letters with an old fan who has reluctantly returned to visit Sybil's beloved town.

Mina's Story: (Sci-Fi, Romance Elements) Still dealing with a major loss in her family, a young woman volunteers for a long-term cryonics project. The episodes are her audio logs after waking up each time, always the same place but centuries after she went to sleep. A story about grief, change, and the intersection of past and future.

Mirrors: (Sci-fi, Mystery, Supernatural). The audio journal of three women from different periods (past, present, and future) who seem to share little in common bar the strange inhuman, ghostly figures they have started seeing.

Night Life: (Supernatural, Noir) Utterly wacky one-episode story (more of a short audio movie) about an ex-vampire hunter turned private eye who finds herself dealing with the shenanigans of mafia and vampires in the wake of an upcoming mayoral election. Find it on the feed for The Lightning Bottler.

The Night Post: (Supernatural, Mystery). The conscripted couriers of Gilt City are both respected and shunned, integral to the city's function, but inexplicably tied to the supernatural. It's not something they like to talk about. When his husband goes missing on the job, Milo is called to take over. Clementine took over from her father a long time ago, yet recently someone else with her face has been delivering her own unsent letters. Val's not going to discuss how she ended up there, but she will absolutely open people's mail (filled with their own supernatural tales) to read aloud.

Palimpsest, Season 2: (Horror, Romance, Fantasy Elements). Set in the 1800s, a young woman becomes the maid to a supposed fairy noblewoman, who is being kept as one of many "denizens", living curiousities, in a large house. Each season is a different story, this is Season 2.

★ The Pasithea Powder: (Sci-Fi, Thriller?) The last major interplanetary war was full of atrocities, but none more infamous then the creation of Pasithea Powder, a memory altering drug which was used to horrible effect and landed it's entire team of creators in prison. So when decorated war hero Captain Sophie Green sees one of them wandering free, worlds away from his prison, she gets in touch with a very old, estranged friend: one Dr. Jane Gonzalez, who's behind bars for the very same reason.

Starship Q Star: (Sci-Fi, Comedy) The small crew of a tone-deaf space agency's attempt at a PR mission wake up at Mars to discover that they - and the one botanist abandoned on Mars base - are now the last surviving members of humanity. Co-captains and ex-girlfriends Aurelia and Sim must now dedicate themselves to protecting their crew and finding a new home, but they're rarely on the same page about how best to do it.

★ The Strange Case of Starship Iris: (Sci-Fi) When the shuttle carrying the crew of scientific research ship Iris explodes, Violet Liu finds herself stranded in space, the last survivor with no way out. Until her emergency broadcast is picked up by a passing ship. But the crew aren't who they seem to be, there's more going on here than anyone knows yet, and Violet must decide who she can really trust.

Unwell: (Supernatural). Lily Harper revisits her supposedly haunted childhood home to help take care of her aging mother. The house is weird, sure, but there's something far stranger haunting the town of Mount Absolm than simply ghosts.

Weaver: (Supernatural, Romance Elements). The musings of the entity within the old house about the girl she fell in love with (the only thing she can remember), and her two new coinhabitants, who do not yet know she exists.

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crippleprophet · 1 year

Note

Hey Mac! Do you have any crip books or resource recs for crip sex/sexuality?

Feel free to delete if you're uncomfortable answering :]

do i ever! i actually did an essay for my master’s in disability studies on the topic of disabled people’s access to sex so a lot of these are sources from that (feel free to dm me for my paper!) & others are things i’ve collected for leisure (hah)

i’m bolding my favorites and italicizing ones i haven’t read but have been recommended / have on my list; as with everything, having read a piece + recommending it is not an uncritical endorsement, & i have various contentions with all of these pieces ranging from minor nitpicking to outright disagreement.

feel free to send an ask or dm if you want my thoughts on a particular work or need help obtaining a pdf!

books

Sex and Disability ed. Robert McRuer & Anna Mollow

The Sexual Politics of Disability: Untold Desires by Tom Shakespeare, Kath Gillespie-Sells and Dominic Davies

Unbreaking Our Hearts: Cultures of Un/Desirability and the Transformative Potential of Queercrip Porn by Loree Erickson. York University, dissertation submitted 2015.

McRuer, R. 2006. Crip theory: Cultural signs of queerness and disability. New York: New York University Press.

Kinked and Crippled: Disabled BDSM Practitioners’ Experiences and Embodiments of Pain. Emma Sheppard. Edge Hill University, dissertation submitted 2017.

Love, Sex, and Disability: The Pleasures of Care by Sarah Smith Rainey

intellectually disabled people / people with learning difficulties’ right to sex

Hamilton, C. A. 2009. ‘Now I’d like to sleep with Rachael’ – researching sexuality support in a service agency group home. Disability & Society. 24(3), pp.303-315.

Hollomotz, A. 2008. ‘May we please have sex tonight?’ – people with learning difficulties pursuing privacy in residential group settings. British Journal of Learning Disabilities. 37, pp.91–97.

Vehmas, S. 2019. Persons with profound intellectual disability and their right to sex. Disability & Society. 34(4), pp.519-539.

Significance of the attitudes of police and care staff toward sex and people who have a learning disability by A. Bailey & D. Sines. Journal of Learning Disabilities for Nursing Health and Social Care (1998), 2(3), pp.168-174.

sexual facilitation & making sex accessible

Bahner, J. 2016. Risky business? Organizing sexual facilitation in Swedish personal assistance services. Scandinavian Journal of Disability Research. 18(2), pp.164-175.

Linda R. Mona (2003) Sexual Options for People with Disabilities, Women & Therapy, 26:3-4, pp.211-221.

No Pity Fucks Please: A critique of Scarlet Road’s campaign to improve disabled people’s access to paid sex services by Tova Rozengarten and Heather Brook. Outskirts vol. 34, 2016, pp.1-21.

Julia Bahner (2013) The power of discretion and the discretion of power: personal assistants and sexual facilitation in disability services, Vulnerable Groups & Inclusion, 4:1, 20673.

BDSM, paraphilias, & alternative sex

Goldberg, C. E. 2018. Fucking with Notions of Disability (In)Justice: Exploring BDSM, Sexuality, Consent, and Canadian Law

Hollomotz, A. 2013. Exploiting the Fifty Shades of Grey craze for the disability and sexual rights agenda. Disability & Society. 28(3), pp.418-422.

Reynolds, D. 2007. Disability and BDSM: Bob Flanagan and the case for sexual rights. Sexuality Research & Social Policy. 4(1), pp.40-52.

Tellier, S. 2017. Advancing the discourse: Disability and BDSM. Sex & Disability. 35, pp.485-493.

Sheppard, E. 2018. Using pain, living with pain. Feminist Review. 120, pp.54-69.

Tyburczy, J. 2014. Leather anatomy: Cripping homonormativity at International Mr. Leather. Journal of Literary & Cultural Disability Studies. 8(3), pp.275-293.

Sheppard, E 2019, 'Chronic Pain as Fluid, BDSM as Control' Disability Studies Quarterly, vol. 39, no. 2.