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lovebugism · 6 months

Note

ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)

ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.

Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.

He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.

You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.

The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).

“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”

Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.

“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”

“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”

“No?”

“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”

“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.

You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”

“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.

You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.

“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”

“You’re not dumb, Eds.”

“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”

You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.

He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”

“I’ll die,” you deadpan.

“You’re so dramatic.”

His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck.

That’s where he lingers.

Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there.

He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.

His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.

“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.

Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.

“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”

You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed.

You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”

He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.

Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”

“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”

“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”

He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”

The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”

“But not all the time, though, right?”

“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”

“Sure…”

Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”

You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.

Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.

“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.

“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”

He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now.

Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.

The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.

“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.

Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”

His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”

Again, you nod.

“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”

“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.

Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”

“So… on you?”

“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.

“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”

You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.

Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”

“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”

His smile widens. “Exactly.”

“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”

Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy.

“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.

You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.

“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”

“Oh, fuck…”

You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.

“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.

Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things smut #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

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yourejinx · 4 months

Text

Late Nights

Azriel x F.Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, +18, minors dni. Oral, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v. A bit of fluff? I think that's it.

Author's note: I wanted to try something different, this is my first time writing content like this so please be gentle but also PLEASE FEEDBACK.

Word count: 4k

It was the fourth night in a row that you were deprived from sleep, cursed with listening Cass and Nesta fuck like rabbits in the room next to yours. In all honesty, you loved your friends and were absolutely thrilled they were enjoying and exploring the extent of their relationship, they deserved it after everything they went through. You just wished they had a little consideration for your poor ears and sleeping schedule.

You had been working your ass off the past few weeks, Rhys had you and Az going around the courts every other day, plus you've been dealing with Eris, since you seemed to be the only member in the Inner Circle that the Autumn heir tolerated just fine. So you had your plate full, and wished for a little peace and quiet at your own home. But your friends had other plans.

Nesta let out a particularly loud moan that you clearly heard through the too thin wall. It made you grimace and you decided you had enough. Huffing, you tossed the sheets off your body, grabbed the shirt you had stolen from the shadowsinger years ago and opened the door, putting on the clothing while you made your way down the corridor. If you were awake, then Azriel had to be too, he didn't miss a thing happening in this house.

You didn't bother knocking on his door, you were way past that line with him. Azriel was your best friend, your confident, the person who you most trusted in the entire world, and vice versa. You were too comfortable with each other to bother with politeness. You flung open the door to his bedroom, making your way inside and slamming the door behind you dramatically. The room was dark except for the dim fae light hanging on his bedside table, Azriel had put down the book he was reading to stare at you amusedly.

"Good evening to you too." He uttered playfully.

You didn't reply, just scowled, walked up to the other side and plopped down face first on the bed beside him. He chuckled.

"Finding it hard to sleep?" He asked, setting the book aside.

"They are insufferable." You mumbled around the sheets. They smelled like him, an instant comfort for your tired mind. "Agh! You can hear them from here too! How are you not bothered?!?" You lift your head from his pillows to look at him exasperatedly.

Azriel smiled somewhat apprehensive at you. "I'm kind of used to it by now." He shrugged.

You narrowed your eyes at him, smirking. "Kinky."

He rolled his eyes feigning annoyance. "You have no idea, sweetheart." His voice was a deep purr as he smirked back at you.

You lifted one eyebrow in amusement. There was this recurrent thing between you two, where you usually teased and flirted with each other but never dared to actually do something about it. It was just for fun right? You were friends who just liked messing around as a joke. Always dancing the line between friends and something more, it was a dangerous game for sure, but you had to admit you loved the thrill of it.

“Is that so? Oh please, do enlighten me then.” You shot back, lying more comfortably on his bed. Arms behind your head, eyes fixed on him.

Hazel gaze traveled all the way down to the now exposed skin of your upper thighs, your movement had caused the shirt – his shirt– to ridden up a little, revealing more of your legs and the underline of a pair of lacy black panties. His pulse spiked slightly at the sight. You didn’t seem to notice, he averted his eyes before you could catch him shamelessly staring at you.

There was a glint in your eyes when he caught your stare again, a slight flush to your cheeks, but he didn’t back off.

“Curious now, are we?” He tilted his head, resting his cheek on his fist to properly look at you.

“Ah, don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy. You brought it up, are you backing out?”

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, a playful spark dancing in his golden eyes, when—

“Fuck, Ness!” Cassian’s growl reached both your ears as clear as day. There was a beat of silence after that where you just stared at each other stunned, then you broke in a fit of laughter.

“Seriously Az, I don’t know how you endure it, if I have to listen to them one more night I’m gonna lose my shit. I haven’t slept in days,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “and neither have you, it seems.” you pointed out, poking open one eye to stare at him. Azriel had laid back facing you, wings tucked behind his back, shoulders involuntarily curving inwards, a sign of tiredness. You noted the dark circles under his eyes.

“I look that shitty, huh?” he smiled tiredly.

“Never.” You stated matter-of-factly. “You’re always pretty.”

It was his turn to blush then, heat rapidly crawling to his face and neck. He could handle your flirting, your teasing, but he didn’t know how to react when you blatantly called him pretty. It just sounded so…sincere, coming from you. It made his heart flutter in his chest. It was no secret that he found you attractive, he thought he made that clear, but there was more to that, wasn’t there? He didn’t just think you were hot, he thought you were beautiful, smart, and kind, and it freaked the hell out of him to acknowledge all those things because that would mean that he wanted more. More than being your friend, but it terrified him to ruin your friendship. If you wanted him in the same way, you would’ve said something by now, right? You’ve known each other for years.

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered, breath fanning across his face. He hadn’t noticed how close you were. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.

“I’m thinking that we should sleep.” He answered, but made no move whatsoever. You smiled at him and nodded, making to reach the faelight to turn it off. You angled your body half above him and stretched to the bedside table, hair barely grazing the hot skin of his torso. Gods, you were practically straddling him, his mind taking him to all sorts of indecent scenarios. Your breasts were just a breadths away from his mouth, he could make out the perked nipples under the shirt. He loved seeing you in his clothes, but right now he wanted nothing more than to rip the fabric out of you. Azriel swallowed dryly.

What was his fucking problem? It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared a bed before, he blamed his friend’s heated session down the hall. He had to admit it had gotten him a bit railed up, especially with you on his bed, smelling like him. It was hard to ignore the growing want in his veins.

“Goodnight, Az.” You said, pulling back a little to look at him through half lidded eyes, even in the dark. Was it possible you were feeling the same? or was it just tiredness in your features?

“Goodnight, angel.” He whispered back. If you leaned in any closer, he swears he’d kiss you, consequences be damned. But you slid right back onto your side, back facing him.

Azriel lets out a quiet, frustrating sigh, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist pulling you close. More moaning can be heard outside his bedroom, all the way to Cassian’s room. He feels slightly jealous.

Suddenly you snorted, “We’ll sleep better if we get past the nghs, ohh, right there Cass!” you moaned, imitating Nesta. Azriel inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the way your little whimpering had shot straight to his dick. And the bite of jealousy he felt at hearing Cassian’s name falling so sinfully from your lips.

He scented the slight change in your scent though, a pinch of sweet arousal that got him mouth-watering. It had gotten to your head too, the display of passion from your friends a few bedrooms away. Azriel debated whether it was wise to do something right now, to taste the waters maybe. But you rolled onto your back again, facing the ceiling and letting out a frustrated groan.

“Someone has to teach them though, make them uncomfortably listen for once. Maybe I’ll go to Rita’s tomorrow, choose a random male and bring him home. Beat them at their own game.”

“No.” Azriel growled. You turned your head to the side, looking at him and were met with the dark, lustful haze in his eyes. You felt your core pulse in response. Fuck, why was he so hot?

“What do you mean"no "?" You asked, feeling your tongue paper dry in your mouth.

“Why wait until tomorrow, if you can beat them tonight?”

The offer hung there, unspoken, for a few heartbeats. You felt your face grow hot, felt liquid fire pooling at your belly at the mere suggestion. He hadn’t even touched you and yet he got you all hot and bothered with a few words. You licked your lips, staring at him, shirtless, hair tousled over the pillow, shadows dancing dangerously over his shoulder. As if expecting your answer. He was a sight for sore eyes. It had to be illegal to be this beautiful.

“I’m game if you are, sweetheart.” There it was, the deep purr again that had you clenching your legs together. He noticed the shift of course, smirking smugly.

“Haha, very funny.” you said, huffing.

“I’m not playing.” He pulled you closer, pressing you against his front. You gasped, feeling the not so subtle bulge in his sweatpants, rubbing against the side of your thigh.

“Is this why you kept me at an arm's length tonight?” you chuckled, but he could hear the breathlessness in your voice. “So I wouldn't find out they got you all worked up?”

“No, this isn’t their doing, angel. It's all yours.” He dared a hand down your waist, past your hips, to ghost over the skin under the hem of your shirt. You shuddered. “Tell me to stop and I will. It's okay.”

He lifted the fabric ever so slightly, inching closer to the waistband of your underwear.

You turned fully to him, chests pressed together, breasts dragging against the firm muscle with every breath.

“Fuck it, let’s show them.” You breathed into his mouth before crashing your lips together in a searing kiss.

Azriel groaned low against your mouth, grip tighter bringing your hips flushed together, and kissed you back with fervor. Your hands found purchase in the dark locks at the back of his neck, tugging gently and urging him impossibly closer. He pushed you onto your back, knees parting on their own accord to accommodate him between your legs. It was all so hot and messy. Like you both have been waiting for this for a very long time, it made you throb with need. The thought of him wanting you as much as you wanted him.

You rolled your hips onto him, desperate for any sort of friction, moaning loudly when the clothed tip of his cock catched on your clit deliciously. Azriel took his chance to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch and taste of you, kissing you deeply, desperately. He wanted more, he wanted everything. A wave of arousal licked down his spine, your lips were sweet and addictive, he wondered — needed to know— if other parts of you tasted as sweet.

He kissed your jaw, your neck, biting and licking his way down to your collarbones. His right hand came to fondle with the generous swell of your breast over the shirt, pinching at the perked nub. The smell of your arousal hit him at a full force, Azriel felt like a youngling in heat rutting his cock at your core. Fuck, he couldn't help himself, he was so enamoured with the sounds he was getting out of you.

“Take this off,” he ordered, tugging at your shirt. “If I do it I may rip the damn thing off of you, and I love seeing you in my shirt.”

You obeyed without a second thought, too lost in the feeling of him already. He invaded all your senses, his touch sending your skin on fire, his scent sparkling pleasure bubbling in your insides. The rich tone of his voice had you feeling all tingly and sensitive. Gods, you wanted him everywhere.

With the offensive clothing now discarded, Azriel wasted no time dipping his head down and latching his mouth to one of your nipples, swirling his tongue and grazing his teeth around the nub. His hand came to play with your other breast, giving it the same attention, switching between your tits. You arched your back into him, whining in pleasure.

He let go of your chest, looking down to admire you, all spread out for him. Nipples hard and shiny with his spit, breathing unevenly, underwear drenched with arousal, all because of him. He felt his cock throb within the confines of his sweats. Fuck, you looked so pretty like this, he had to taste you. Azriel looked up at your face, your glazed over eyes and swollen lips, and kissed you hard. Scarred fingers found the flimsy material of your panties, pushing them aside and dragging two digits along your soaked folds; you both moaned at the feeling. He rubbed tight circles around your clit, then ran a finger through your slit, smearing your juices everywhere. Your breathing quickened and he bit down your lip before kissing his way to your heat. Azriel looked at you from between your legs, pupils blown with lust, smirking wickedly. He hooked his fingers under the waistband and tugged the material painfully slow down your legs, snarling softly at the sight of your dripping pussy.

“Beautiful,” he moaned. “So damn beautiful.” His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe out your center. It almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your hips bucking off the bed to get closer to his face. He chuckled darkly. “Eager, angel?”

“Az please, stop teasing,” you whined prettily, eyes locking with his.

At this point you didn’t care if your friends could hear or not, you wanted Azriel’s mouth on you, his fingers, his cock. You wanted to feel all of him.

“Whatever my sweet angel wants,” he blew some air into your cunt, making you shiver in anticipation. Azriel dive in, devouring you like a male starved, like he might die if he didn’t get to taste you. He all but full on made out with your pussy, dragging his tongue along your folds, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking sharply. He groaned at your taste, the reverberations causing your eyes to roll back into your head, hips jerking up. He wrapped one arm around your hips to keep you pin to the bed and switched between harsh sucks and flicking the wet muscle around the nub. The pleasure was all too much and not enough at the same time, you moaned his name aloud and tugged at the strands of his hair again.

Azriel’s free hand reached down to spread your folds, soaking his digits in your arousal before proding one finger at your entrance, and pushing inside. Your walls immediately clenched around him, making you both growl in pleasure.

“Fuck, sweetheart, so tight. Already clenching on me,” he moaned, teeth grazing your clit. You could feel the pressure building in your lower belly, walls clamping down on his finger when he added a second one. You cried out, desperately trying to ride his face. Azriel pumped his fingers inside of you faster, curling his digits to reach that sweet spot that had you seeing stars behind your lids. Words were beginning to fail you, mumbling incoherently about how close you were. “You wanna cum? C’mon angel, give it to me, cum all over my face and fingers.”

His words had an immediate effect on you, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure overpowered you and you let go, cumming hard on his fingers, moaning his name for all the house to hear. Azriel kept thrusting his fingers into your hole, guiding you through your orgasm and licking every last drop you had to offer. He watched you closely, eyes shut in pleasure, soft pants leaving your plush lips as you came down from your high. Only then he pulled his hand away, mesmerized by you. He crawled up your body, coming face to face with you.

“Hey,” he whispered, smiling.

“Hey,” you replied, face flushed and smiling satisfied. You reached your hand to push away the dark strands that had fallen into his face, cupping his cheek in your palm. He looked absolutely gorgeous, hair disheveled from your tugging, lips bruised and shiny with your juices, gaze clouded with lust and something else. More intense even, more deep.

You dragged your thumb over his bottom lip and he sucked it into his mouth, you almost whined again. Breaths coming in short. You brought his face to yours, kissing him with such devotion you couldn't hold back any longer. Azriel shuddered, leisurely kissing you back, you could taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning softly, you ranked your nails down his body, from his pecs, to the hard planes of his abdomen, all the way to his cock, palming him through the fabric. He hissed when you slid your fingers past the waistband of his pants, gripping him in your hand. His hips buckled. He was big, and warm and sticky with pre-cum. You made to put his sweatpants down but he stopped you before you could take it any further.

“Fuck baby, are you sure?” he asked, looking intently at you. A swirl of emotions passed through his eyes, it made your heart flutter in your chest. “We don't have to, unless that's what you want. I think we made our point clear.” He laughed breathlessly.

“It is what I want Az. I want you, I need you. Please.” You watched him with pleading eyes, full of trust and… He didn't dare acknowledge that emotion yet, not unless you spoke it out loud. Although his heart still gave a flip. Pulse picking up.

He helped you pull his pants down, and kicked them out of his legs. His cock sprung free, slapping against his abs, tip swollen and dripping. You flashed him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen you wear, dragging your eyes shamelessly through his body. It gave him a little bit of an ego boost.

“You're so pretty Az. So so pretty,” you murmured, eyes half lidded already devouring him.

There it was again, you calling him pretty. He didn't know what to do with himself so he leaned in to capture your mouth in a scorching kiss. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him flush against you, both hissing when the tip of his proud cock bumped against your clit.

You broke the kiss to slide your mouth along his jaw, down his neck, peppering his sun-kissed skin in love bites. Marking him as yours. Azriel groaned and thrust his hips forward, sliding through your folds, coating his length in your arousal. He repeated the action a couple of times before aligning himself with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, your wetness and the remnants of your orgasm making it easy to slide all the way in. Your walls hugged him tightly as he bottomed out, stilling, to give you time to adjust to his size. Azriel let out a moan so hot and sinful it made a new wave of arousal wash over you.

He felt on cloud nine, his head falling to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and letting it intoxicate him. He could’ve cum right then and there, buried to the hilt in your heat. But he wanted it to last, taking his time to savor the feeling of you wrapped around him so perfectly. He had no doubt in his lust filled mind that you were made for him. You were his and only his.

You rolled your hips at last, running your fingers down his sides urging him to move. That was all it took for him to pull out to the tip and slam his hips hard into yours, Azriel set a slow, sensual pace, intended in making you feel every last inch of him. You welcomed the stretch with a wanton moan, feeling the veins with every delicious drag of his cock against your walls.

“Gods, Azriel, more!” you whined. “I can take it.”

“I swear you're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He panted. Pulling out he gripped your hips tightly and turned you onto your stomach, ass up in the air. He thrust in harsher, making you cry out in pleasure. All signs of restraint gone.

Azriel picked up speed, angling his hips just fine so that he could reach even deeper inside you. He quickly found the spot that had you gripping him tight, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Abusing your hole, hitting your g spot every single time, mercilessly. He had you in a state of pure bliss, bringing one arm to wrap around your middle, reaching between your legs to play with your clit. You were so close, already too sensitive from your previous orgasm. Squirming around in his embrace, pushing your ass back to meet his thrusts.

“Fuuck! Don't stop,” you managed out, fisting at the sheets for support.

“I won't,” he grunted, the swollen head of his cock kissing your cervix. “You're mine, do you understand me? Mine. No other male gets to touch you.”

“Yes, yes I'm yours,” you panted, desperately wanting to please him.

“Good girl.”

He was relentless, hips slapping with a force that had the headboard smashing against the wall. He knew you were about to cum, could feel his own orgasm sneaking up on him. Azriel went impossibly faster, pulling sobs out of you. You clamped down on him after one particular sharp thrust and your high barreled through you without previous warning. You screamed, white hot pleasure blinding you. Cum gushed out of you, making a mess of your thighs and his. He held your trembling body up, pressed to him as he fucked you through your orgasm, thrusts becoming sloppier by the second. His wings flared proud behind him and he felt the tight knot in his gut snap. Azriel came with a growl of your name, hips coming to a stop. Your body falling limp atop the bed.

Slowly pulling out of you, he watched astonished at the mess you made, both of your juices dripping down your legs. When his breathing became even again, Azriel leaned in to press a kiss to your spine, making you shudder.

“You okay, angel?” He asked, scarred fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face.

You smiled tiredly at him, content. “I feel amazing.”

He chuckled and laid back next to you, pulling you to lay on his chest. You pressed a kiss over his heart, arms resting on his stomach, still catching your breath. No one spoke for a while, enjoying the aftermath of your actions. There was no room for worry, not with Azriel. Not ever.

He traced iddle circles on your skin, loving how well you fit next to him.

“Az?” You called softly to him, he hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you hear that?”

He stilled, straining his hearing. Muffled moans could be heard down the hall and the distinct sound of a headboard smashing hard against the wall. You laughed in unison.

“I think we may have spurred them on,” he said amusedly, voice hoarse.

“I've never been more glad to have left my room than right now” you chuckled.

“You and I both, angel.” He added, squeezing your ass.

You turned to him, placing a kiss to the outline of his jaw. Silently admiring the hickies you left on his neck.

“How does a second round sound?” You purred.

He smirked, cock already hardening. “Absolutely delightful.”

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #azriel fanfic #azriel #acotar series #acotar smut #azriel smut #cassian smut

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prythianpages · 4 months

Text

A Field of Dandelions

azriel x witch!reader | Your High Lady calls upon you. requesting a remedy that only you know how to make. It requires specific ingredients found between the courts of spring and autumn and you're in need of an escort. Unfortunately for you, she assigns her Shadowsinger to accompany you. The Shadowsinger who hates you...or so you thought.

“Please don’t talk to me like that.”

“Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.”

warnings: angst but with fluff at the end, mentions of self-hate/abuse. pretty much Azriel thinking he's not worthy of a mate.

a/n: I've been re-reading the Shatter Me series and there's a scene between Aaron and Juliette that drove me to make this along with the song Dandelions by Ruth B. The dialogue above is directly from the book Unravel Me. I used them as a writing prompt along with the general gist of the scene and added my own twist to it. I just wanted to put that disclaimer out there.

The door opens before you can even knock and your dear friend and High Lady pulls you into a warm hug. She beckons you inside with a smile and your eyes dart around the various paintings adorning the walls, finding that some are new.

Surprise etches onto your features when your eyes land on the Night Court’s Spymaster. He stands at the end of one of the winding staircases with his usual stoic expression. Still as devastatingly handsome as always. You drop your gaze as quickly as you had met his and if he notices it, he doesn’t let it show. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge your presence.

Your ears pick up on faint crying. It grows louder and louder. Turning your head toward the source, your eyes land on Nyx. Despite being in the comfort of his father’s arms, his little features contort in pain. You greet your High Lord with a bow of your head, noticing the exhaustion on his face that mirrors Feyre’s.

“Is Mor on her way?” You ask, adjusting the strap of your bag. It’s full with all necessary tools and equipment you need for your venture.

Feyre had requested if you could make a tonic to sooth Nyx’s aches while he’s teething but your apothecary shop was unfortunately out of the main ingredient. Dandelion root. Not just any dandelion root but the ones that grow in the soil between the courts of Spring and Autumn and given the current tensions in Prythian and your status as a former Spring court inhabitant, it was not safe for you to go alone.

“Oh,” Feyre says as she takes the babe into her arms. You coo at Nyx and he blinks up at you, his crying coming to a stop. His lips tug up into a small smile and he wraps a tiny hand around your finger. “She is unfortunately caught up in Vallahan.”

“So then Cassian is to escort me today?” You ask again, looking up at your friend.

You catch the way she looks at Rhysand. They share a look and you know they’re communicating to each other through their mind. It’s Rhysand who answers you this time.

“Cassian isn’t fond of the spring, allergies and all.”

The Shadowsinger steps forward and your smile falls. You turn back to your friend, who gives you a sheepish smile in return.

“Azriel will be escorting you today.”

You almost want to say no. The thought of being alone with Azriel makes your stomach churn with unease and something else that you can’t quite discern at the moment. But Nyx begins to squirm in his mother’s arms with a pout and Feyre’s eyebrows knit in concern.

“Okay,” you sigh.

“Thank you so much for doing this,” Feyre says.

“Our son’s life is in your hands.”

Feyre slaps her husband’s arm with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not dying, Rhys,” she grumbles. “He’s just in some discomfort from teething.”

She then turns to Azriel with a stern look. The corner of her lips threatened to betray her. “Be nice.”

Azriel’s shadows envelop you both, whisking you away to the forest of the Spring Court. It was the safest of the two courts to winnow directly to. The air in the dense woods hangs heavy with the scent of blooming blossoms and you’re thankful for the muffled sounds of nature as it provides a soothing background noise, saving you from the awkward silence between you and the impassive Shadowsinger.

Azriel walks ahead, his movements graceful and quiet. His shadows cling to him like the loyal companions they are but some hover over your boots, silencing your own steps.

He finally breaks the silence. “You’re staring.”

You shift your gaze immediately and wonder if he can also sense the pink that dusts your slightly flustered face. “I’m just surprised you’re the one escorting me,” you answer honestly.

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” he responds cryptically.

A slight tension settles between you, your heartbeat quickening as you follow him through the forest. “Right,” you say, your face growing pinker.

You shift the weight of your bag to your other shoulder and Azriel comes to a sudden stop. He turns, his hazel eyes scanning you for a moment. Without a word, he takes the bag from your arm, effortlessly hoisting it over his shoulder.

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard, and a quiet "thanks" escapes your lips. “You’re being awfully nice today,” you can’t help but observe, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your tone “I think this is the most you’ve talked to me since we met.”

Azriel’s lips curve into an almost-smile. A rare sight that sends a flutter through your chest. “My High Lady told me to be nice.”

“Right,” you repeat quietly to yourself as you exhale, a futile effort to calm your fluttering nerves. It’s almost embarrassing the effect Azriel has on you and as the butterflies in your stomach stir, you hope that the rest of the day unfolds quickly.

Mates. Two individuals predestined to be together, brought together by unseen forces and an irresistible bond. Azriel once wondered if he had a mate but after centuries of living, he began to wonder if he was simply destined to be alone.

When his brothers found their mates and he still hadn’t found his, he started to think he was far beyond the reach of love. It was a blessing he could not have. He didn’t need a mate, so he convinced himself he didn’t want one. Romance was not part of his duties and he was starting to come to terms with the fact.

That is, until, he met you.

Nestled right on the outskirts of the area known as the Rainbow of Velaris was a quaint shop. The wooden sign above, engraved with dark letters spelling out Nightrose Apothecary, swayed gently in the cool morning breeze. Azriel had ignored the frenzied whirlwind of his shadows as he stepped into the shop.

Shelves made of twisted vines and polished wood were neatly arranged with rows of glass jars containing colorful powders, dried herbs and exotic roots. A friendly black cat, lounging on the sunlit windowsill, blinked at him in greeting. As he stepped further into the shop, his senses became overwhelmed with the prominent scent of lavender and chamomile.

Behind a worn, wooden counter is where you stood. You hummed to yourself, immersed in the book in front of you. He found himself unable to take his eyes off of you as you skimmed over the rough edged pages, your fingertips carrying an enchanting green glow and eyes filled with darkness.

You were a witch but it was no surprise to him. He had heard about you. You were a good friend of Feyre’s. One of the few people she could trust during her time in the Spring court. When the Spring Court fell into chaos, Feyre had brought you with her and helped you open up this shop.

His steps were silent and he’s sure you’re unaware of his presence, so he shifted, parting his mouth to speak–

“Hello, Shadowsinger.”

His steps faltered, eyes widening for a fleeting moment.

When you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, his eyes locked with yours and something deep within him awakened. An exhilarating feeling like no other. He felt light. He felt alive. And he was almost afraid to blink, not wanting the feeling to end.

His shadows peeked out from behind his limbs, curious to see what had their master in a chokehold. They dispersed from his body in a thrilled dance as the darkness left your eyes, revealing their natural color. They’re beautiful and sparkling with kindness, even as his shadows disobey his silent orders and slither up your arms in a cool greeting.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself apologizing, a slight tint in his cheeks. “They usually don’t do that.”

“It’s okay,” you brushed off his worry and he felt lightheaded and bewitched at the smile you directed toward him. “What brings you here?”

Azriel can’t help but feel that you already know why he’s there. He pulled his gaze away, choosing to focus on the crystal orbs on the counter instead. “My High Lady recommended I come to you. I’ve been having trouble…sleeping.”

The green glow returned to your fingertips as you beckoned a small clear vial from one of the shelves behind you. It’s filled with a silver liquid that glistened as it moved, mirroring the twinkle of the stars that light up the night sky.

“This should help.” You told him as you held out the vial to him. “Take a sip before you’re ready for bed and it should quickly pull you into a restful slumber. Some say it even brings forth sweet dreams.”

Azriel nodded his head, taking the small vial from you with a gloved hand. He stored it carefully into the chest pocket of his leathers. His hands then dug into the pockets of his pants but you held out a hand to stop him.

“It’s on the house.”

“But–”

“Any friend of Fey–the High Lady’s is a friend of mine.”

His throat tightened as he realized it’s time for him to leave and he doesn’t want to. He’s caught in a whirlwind of emotions and finds himself torn between hope and fear. Or maybe he fears what it means to be hopeful because for once in his life, he wants something.

He wants you. His mate.

But as he thanked you for your kind gesture, he realized that the bond must have not snapped for you as it had for him. So he reluctantly went on with his day and when the sky darkened and stars awakened, he took a sip from the small vial. He had the best sleep of his life that night and dreamt about you.

The next morning he asked Rhysand and Feyre about what he had experienced because he couldn’t believe it himself. They confirmed his suspicions and they were both delighted. Feyre even more so as you were her dear friend.

She had taken it upon herself to bring you two together. Her first attempt was a family dinner. It was going well until Elain had spotted a spider and upon the small scream she let out, Nesta had rushed to kill it for her. Your distress was impossible to turn a blind eye to and Feyre quietly asked if you were alright.

“It didn’t need to die,” is all you quietly said, your eyes lined with silver.

Witches were one with nature and given your niche with herbs and creation, Azriel realized the depth of your admiration for all life that night. Then, another harrowing one. You were so innocent, so pure. He was guilty, hands tainted and stained red. He didn’t deserve you.

The Cauldron must’ve made a mistake.

Feyre was undeterred so she gave it another attempt, despite Azriel’s protest. She arranged a night out at Rita’s for the Inner Circle and invited you. Azriel didn’t plan on going but Rhysand had made sure his schedule was clear and when Feyre had sent him an image of you in a skin tight dress, he came as quickly as he could.

But it was too late.

He arrived to find a high fae leaning toward you in interest and you were smiling at him. A smile Azriel wanted reserved just for him. The male had placed a hand at your waist and Azriel felt his stomach churn when you laughed at something he had said. A sound he wished to be the cause of. You seemed happy and who was he to stand in your way?

The male was everything Azriel was not. Blond, blue eyed and perfectly smooth hands–hands that were all over you and welcomed by you. He unconsciously hid his scarred hands behind his back and when your gaze met his across the room, he looked away.

Azriel was not worthy of you. He didn’t deserve to have you as his mate. So he reminded himself that romance was not part of his duties and convinced himself that the Cauldron, had indeed, made a mistake.

He couldn’t bear the thought of being just a friend to you. The mere idea pained him so much that he pushed you away. He didn’t return to your apothecary when he finished the vial you’d given him–not even when his nights became restless again and dark circles appeared beneath his eyes. When he’d see you walking along the streets of Velaris, he’d turn the other away and when you would visit Feyre and he was there, he’d find an excuse to leave.

But there was one thing he couldn’t shake off–the primal instinct to protect you. It was the least he could do for you as he felt indebted to you for the Cauldron’s mistake.

So when he heard you needed an escort to the border between the Spring and Autumn courts, he was the first to volunteer, despite Mor and Cassian also offering.

It’s as if the ground beneath you comes to life in your presence. Birds fly over you, chirping and singing a beautiful melody. As you pass, buds blossom into beautiful flowers as if enchanted by you. Even the animals emerge from their hidden abodes. The squirrels playfully dart between branches while a family of deer gracefully emerges from the trees.

It becomes evident that nature itself is captivated by your presence. and it extends beyond nature, weaving its magic onto Azriel as well. It reaches into the very heart of the Shadowsinger, casting an enchanting spell that even he cannot escape.

A blue butterfly dances playfully around Azriel. It startles him, pulling him out of his trance and you can’t help the small laugh that escapes from you. You raise a finger and the butterfly lands on it softly.

“Hello, little one,” you coo softly. You turn to Azriel, holding out your finger to him. “Would you like to hold it?”

“No.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you scared of a butterfly?”

Azriel does not answer your question. Instead, his eyes dart around the forest that still stirs with liveliness around you. “What happened to keeping a low profile?”

“Sorry,” you apologize, even though it’s not your fault. The butterfly grants you one last flutter of its wings before gracefully flying away. “I can’t help but be admired by many.”

Azriel lets out a hum. You’re too distracted to pick up on the subtle resonance of agreement, your eyes widening as the meadow finally comes into view in the distance.

You inhale deeply, flooding your senses with the delicate fragrance surrounding you–a symphony of floral notes. Time seems to slow and your worries dissipate away as you kneel down, gently touching the soft sea of green, white and yellow. The gentle sway of the dandelions becomes a mesmerizing dance, their feathery plumes catching the morning breeze like wishes ready to be set free.

Azriel watches you and his eyes are a reflection of an adoration deeper than any meadow bloom. There’s a bittersweet ache in his chest. You close your eyes, a serene expression on your face. Strands of sunlight weave through your hair, creating a halo of warmth and Azriel finds it hard to breathe when your lips bloom into a tender smile.

Your eyes open and meet his hazel eyes and suddenly, he’s looking away. He clears his throat, eyes looking around the field. “What’s so special about this place?” He asks, a desperate attempt to reclaim the distance between desire and reality.

“All life is a delicate balance of give and take. Spring brings forth new life and beauty, new beginnings. Autumn leaves showers of gold, recognizing the temporary nature of all things. “ You answer as if it's common knowledge and upon the bewildered expression on Azriel’s face, you offer the simpler explanation: “The soil between Spring and Autumn is very potent.”

“These are weeds. They’ll grow anywhere.” Azriel deadpans. He regrets it immediately at the brief darkening of your eyes and the slight frown that forms at his casual dismissal.

“You may see a weed,” you begin, plucking a single dandelion from the ground as you rise to your feet. You approach the Shadowsinger. “But I see wishes.”

You extend the dandelion to him with a softness in your eyes that he’s never been on the receiving end of. “They say a single dandelion possesses the power to grant one-hundred wishes. But their beauty lies in their resilience because when they fall apart, they simply start again. A reminder to us all of boundless hope.”

Azriel hesitates, his gaze fixed on the dandelion. His gloved fingers brush against yours and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what your skin would feel like against his. The mere thought dares to send a shiver through him but he swiftly pushes the thought away. He doesn’t deserve you.

You smile at him as he carefully accepts the delicate stem from you. His shadows remain dispersed around the field but from where he stands, he can feel them vibrating in a joyful dance. Your smile is so bright, so dazzling and for the first time since he met you, it’s all for him. A sudden warmth floods through him, a sensation he never anticipated, and he finds himself utterly captivated.

“Make a wish,” you whisper to him, your voice a gentle prompt that lingers in the air like a spell waiting to be cast.

Azriel is not one to believe in things like this but he finds himself surrendering to the magic of the moment. For you.

Under the tender gaze of a field of dandelions, he closes his eyes. He lets out a silent breath, and makes a wish. A gentle breeze courses through you both in that moment. The dandelion’s wispy seeds take flight, unraveling into a delicate constellation of possibilities.

The soft bristles of hope travel through the air and find their way to you and a laugh escapes from you in response to the tickling sensation as they caress your face. Azriel’s heart feels strangely gentle–as if the weight that often accompanies his existence has momentarily dissipated. His entire body seems to soften in the glow of your laughter and a rare smile graces his lips.

He’s stuck in a trance, mesmerized by you, failing to catch the sounds of the creatures approaching. Before he knows it, there are arrows whistling around you both. He barely has enough time to respond as one hisses by his ear and darts to you. He immediately raises his hand up, his shadows rushing to the rescue and forming a protective shield around you both.

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the tip of an arrow that is a couple of inches away from you. It’s coated with blood. Azriel’s blood. Your breath hitches at the sight. There's an arrow embedded into his gloved hand and if it weren’t for Azriel’s other hand at the small of your back, you would’ve fallen backwards.

“Are you alright?” His gaze is examining you carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You blink at his words. “Are you alright?”

“Well, well, well.” A voice drawls followed by deep, rumbling growls from the hounds that surround you. They’re kept at bay by Azriel’s shadows. “What do we have here?”

Azriel turns around, ready to face the threat head on. His shadows remain at your side protectively. Some slither up and down your arms, their touch aimed at offering comfort and reassurance.

“Eris.”

The red head smirks and his teeth flash when he catches the sight of the Shadowsinger’s injured and bleeding hand. “My apologies,” Eris sneers. “If I had known it was you, I would’ve aimed for the heart.”

A sound escapes from you–one you didn’t know you were capable of making and you step out from the shadows. It draws Eris’s attention to you. His amber eyes drink you in and you feel Azriel stiffen beside you. The Autumn’s male’s eyes land on the obsidian necklace around your neck and they narrow.

“What is a witch doing in my lands?” His hounds that are still surrounding let out another growl, prompted by their master’s tone of voice. They snap their teeth menacingly.

But you’re unfazed.

Perhaps, it’s Azriel’s protective shadows or the overwhelming anger set alight by Eris’s words that grant you the confidence and push you forward. Your eyes fill with darkness, resembling a night sky without any stars and Azriel can feel the energy coursing through your veins as you call upon your magic.

“Keep wasting the air with that breath of yours and I might just cur–”

A hand comes over your mouth, stopping you from saying anything else and you’re being pulled flush into Azriel’s chest. You grimace at the taste of leather and squirm only for Azriel’s arms to tighten around you.

“Cute,” Eris remarks with a hint of amusement but there’s an unmistakable fear that flashes in his eyes for a short lived moment.

“We’re just passing through,” Azriel states, his voice void of emotion.

Eris observes you both in contemplative silence. He must discern something in Azriel that prompts him to stand down. With a thoughtful hum, he gracefully turns away. His hounds follow suit and as he walks away, he calls over his shoulders: “Make it quick.”

You watch as Eris disappears into the forest, still wrapped tightly in Azriel’s arms. It isn’t until Eris is completely out of view that you squirm again and without thinking, you bite on his gloved hand. Hard. Azriel flinches and finally releases his grip on you.

You turn to him with a glare that he returns.

“Threatening to curse the heir to Autumn? Are you out of your mind?”

“I should curse you for stopping me!” You exclaim, crossing your arms with a scowl. Your gaze then softens as you quietly add: “He hurt you.”

“Gods,” Azriel breathes, stepping away from you and tilting his head backwards. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“You mean besides piss you off by merely existing?” You huff as you snatch your bag away from him to get the jars you brought. “Can’t imagine it gets any worse than that.”

The walk to your apartment is silent and you begin to wonder if you should apologize for your outburst earlier. It was not within your nature to raise your voice at anyone…or harbor anger toward someone. But Eris had tried to hurt you, hurt Azriel and then shamelessly sneered about it.

Azriel follows you into your home, watching as you set the ingredients you collected down. He expects you to bid him farewell and kick him out but as you turn to him and your gaze falls to his injured hand, you sigh.

“Come on,” you offer, reaching out for his hand and he recoils. You frown. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

You know he’s lying by the way his jaw clenches and you can’t help but notice that he appears to be repelled by your touch. You almost laugh. “I promise I won’t curse you. I actually never cursed anyone before.”

Azriel’s expression remains unreadable.

“Just let me see. I can help you.”

“I’m fine.” He says through gritted teeth.

“You’re bleeding all over my floor.” You say in hopes to get him to accept your help and when it doesn’t, you cross your arms against your chest. “Do you really hate me that much? To be repulsed by my touch?”

“I don’t hate you.” Azriel confesses and his voice is much quieter, much softer when he speaks again. “I could never.”

Azriel holds your gaze in contemplation for a long moment. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see his shadows pushing him toward you so you try again. This time, when you step forward, your hand reaching for him, he doesn’t pull away.

“Sit,” you tell him, nodding your head at one of the chairs in your kitchen.

With a hard swallow, he does. He is entirely still as you hold his gloved hand in yours. Even his shadows are eerily still as if holding their breath. His eyes are boring into you with an intensity that heats your skin. You bring your other hand up, a soft green glow emitting from your fingertips. With the help of your magic, you carefully take the arrow out, drawing a sharp gasp from him.

“Sorry,” you say, turning your attention to his glove next. You use your magic to remove it as well, not wanting to cause him any more pain or discomfort.

As the green mist of your magic dissipates, revealing the scarred skin beneath, your eyes widen. The scars are extensive, streaking around his fingers and the palm of his hand and the bleeding gash in the middle is nothing compared to them. You lift your gaze to meet his only to find his eyes are dead of emotion.

“Azriel.” You breathe and it’s the first time you’ve ever addressed him by his name and it sounds so pretty, so beautiful but the way you’re looking at him…

“Don’t.” His throat feels tight and he starts to withdraw his hand from yours but you stop him. You want to know who hurt him this deeply. Today was a day of firsts for you–first smile from Azriel, first time you ever felt so angry, first time you growled at someone and you were more than willing to add another first to that list. Cursing someone.

But Azriel looks like he’s about to break so you push your rage aside. Realization dawns on you as you now understand why he’s always wearing gloves around you, why he avoided you at all costs before. Your heart aches.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” you say softly as you begin to heal his hand. “Your scars may forever carry their stories with them but they do not define you. Your heart does and I can see it now. It’s bright and beautiful. You’re beautiful and–”

“y/n,” he almost begs. “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

The gash on his palm is now completely healed and you tighten your hold on it. “Why?”

“It’s cruel and heartless and you don’t even realize.” His voice drops to a pained whisper and his eyes are fluttering shut, body trembling. Shadows cling on to him, embracing him in an attempt to comfort their master. You’ve never beheld anything more heartbreaking.

“Do you think that lowly of me?” You begin, your voice quiet. “That I would be put off by your scars?”

When he doesn’t answer, your free hand reaches for his face, lifting his chin up. But his eyes are still closed and deep lines form on his forehead because your skin is so soft, so warm and he’s not worthy.

“Azriel,” you steady your breath. “You’re my mate.”

His eyes shoot open, hazel orbs glistening with tears as he looks up at you. “You know?”

“I’ve known since the moment I met you.” You confess with a pained smile. “I wanted to tell you right away but I didn’t want to scare you and when I was ready to tell you, you were avoiding me. I thought you hated me because, well, I’m a witch and not everyone is fond of them.”

“But that night at Rita’s–”

“My stupid attempt at making you jealous,” you explain to him sheepishly. “I thought it would prompt you to talk to me but it backfired immensely.”

Silence falls over you two.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“For being your mate.” Azriel responds. “I don’t deserve you. My hands are not only scarred but stained red. I’ve tortured many. I’ve killed many. You value life but I take it.”

“I value innocent life. It’s my duty to protect nature–to protect those that cannot speak for themselves.” You clarify. “I understand that it’s your duty to protect this court. I don’t see you any different for it.”

The hand at his face drops and you use it to remove the glove from his other hand. Your hands grasp onto his larger ones and you lace your fingers with his, embracing the thickened and roughened skin. Azriel’s breath hitches.

“This can’t be real,” he murmurs to himself, dropping his gaze. “In that field of dandelions, I wished upon every one of them. For you.”

“Magic doesn’t work that way,” you tell him with a smile as an overwhelming rush of tenderness comes over you. “It cannot create or destroy love. It can only heighten what is already there.”

Azriel’s expression softens and he looks back up at you. Half terrified. Half hopeful. “So this is real?”

You decide to show him instead by leaning down and kissing him.

Azriel’s body relaxes and then he’s using his hands to tug you forward and onto his lap. He kisses you back. Deeply and desperately. He places his hands on your face, your neck and then they’re at your waist, slipping under your shirt. He wants to feel your skin, all of you and you welcome it, arching into him because his touch feels so good.

It stirs a light of desire in you–a desire so bright that it rivals the sun and blossoms flowers of its own. A desire to love and be loved.

“What else did you wish for?” You gasp out when you both pull away for air. His hands are right under the curve of your chest and he leans his forehead against yours.

His breath is heavy but he smiles at you and you engrave the image into your mind because you’ve never seen anything so beautiful. You’re inclined to ask Feyre to paint it for you later.

“I only wished for you to be mine.” He says, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Done.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

Azriel has heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime–he’s seen it come to his brothers. He never thought it would come to him but he’s pretty sure that you are that love of his and he was a fool to push it away. He knows this now because when he gazes into your eyes, he can see forever in them.

here's like an alternate scene, where y/n is the one who says "please don't talk to me like that" instead of az: read here

here's a scene if you're curious about feyre's reaction: read here

if you're interested in reading more about this au you can find the masterlist for this series here

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar x you #az!dandelions

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zazter-den · 8 months

Text

Sweet Tooth

Minors Do Not Interact

Common Scents Series: Cat Bath, Sweet Tooth.

Synopsis- Izuku likes the freedom of being a very private business owner when he has dual lives to run. After all it allows him to "hire" himself as a new worker to get close to Barista!Reader- Wait, why do you smell burnt?

Warnings- Yandere, Dubcon, Stalking, Drugging, Overstim, Size Diff, Mindbreak.

Tags-Aged up(obviously), Hybrid AU, Rabbit!Izuku, Dom!Izuku, Afab!reader, Sub!Reader. Kitchen sex, Scentmarking, Creampie, Excessive seed, Undercover boss, Oral!receiving.

Word Count- 8.1K, because apparently I missed the coziness of Autumn

Izuku sat in the manager's office, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the skylight, casting a gentle radiance upon his features. Short, curly forest green hair, slightly disheveled from his earlier preparations, framed his face in an endearing manner as he sat back in the cushy chair. His emerald green eyes, filled with anticipation, seemed to glimmer and reflect the moonlight, adding a glow to his gaze.

Sitting up, he carefully removed his silver rings with practiced ease, each etched with swirling thorned vines and placed them into a velvet-lined box before making his way to the safe hidden in the wooden paneling of the small room.

Next, Izuku's attention turned to his hunting knife, a weapon as beautiful as it is deadly. He gripped the handle, his hand steady and sure, and twirled it effortlessly in the air. The moonlight danced along the metal, illuminating the intricate green thorn designs that ran down the blade. With a measured flick of his wrist, Izuku sheathed the blade, and it disappeared into the hidden safe. The compartment closed with a soft click, concealed behind an intricately designed wooden panel once again. Sealing away his secrets until they are needed once more.

Leaving the manager's office behind, Izuku made his way through the empty cafe, his steps light and silent as he headed toward the kitchen to prepare for the day ahead. The 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe's pristine jade green walls, soft lighting, and delicate hanging glass terrariums created a serene atmosphere, inviting its inhabitants to relax and escape the chaos of the outside world. Izuku being no exception.

In the quiet solitude of the kitchen, the signature evergreen scent of the café mingled with the aroma of matcha and lime. Izuku's tall figure gracefully moved around the kitchen, his large rabbit ears twitching with every soft sound. Like second nature, he set up the kitchen before taking the bright green citrus butter out of the fridge.

When it came to rabbit hybrids, most people weren't used to seeing Flemish Giants. Clad in a light green t-shirt, tightly hugging his well-defined muscles, Izuku's towering physique was more reminiscent of a predator hybrid, his strength barely hidden beneath a veneer of dorky charm and wit.

With precise movements, Izuku began preparing the perfectly striped, two-toned croissants that the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafe is known for. He measured the ingredients meticulously, his attention to detail reflected in every step. There is a comfort and tranquility in the act of creating, a stress reliever that he cherished amidst his dual lives.

The rhythmic sound of his palm hitting the dough, gently flattening it, filled the dark kitchen. Izuku's movements are methodical and precise, almost hypnotizing, as he continued to work on the matcha-lime croissant dough. His thoughts drifted to his upcoming shift with you, and he couldn't help but feel a wave of excitement wash over him.

Izuku was under your spell from your very first shift at one of his cafes. He had watched you on the security cameras for months, studying every little detail. Your moves, your smile, the way you interacted with customers. Izuku was drawn to you like a moth to flame, captivated by charm and spirit.

Izuku imagined you standing there, your lovely form illuminated by the soft café lights, under the delicate swaying terrarium spheres. He could already see himself making your favorite flavored latte, as he's seen you make it countless times on the security feed. How many times did he tweak that syrup to get it just to your liking? The thought of serving you a cup he made himself brought a smile to his face, his green eyes glowing with anticipation.

Lost in his fantasies, Izuku accidentally spilled some flour onto his t-shirt. Chuckling softly to himself, he brushed off the white powder and ran his fingers between his ears and through his short curly forest green hair, basking in the thrill of the upcoming shift.

He focused his attention on the task at hand, skillfully wrapping the mix in plastic wrap and placing it in the fridge to rest until tomorrow. Drumming a brawny calloused hand against the fridge door, he grabbed a sheet of pre-chilled blueberry-lemon dough before closing the door with his heel.

At the kitchen island counter, Izuku's hands worked the dough skillfully, his fingers deftly shaping it into perfect croissants. The dough was soft and pliable, and Izuku liked the feel of the texture against his fingertips. It was smooth and velvety, the aroma of smashed berries and lemon rind wafted through the air as he worked. Izuku appreciated scents that complimented his own. Citrus, teas, your jasmine-like signature.

Shaping the pastry mix, his mind briefly wandered to thoughts of what it would be like to touch you, to feel your curves beneath his hands. Lost again in daydreams, Izuku envisioned the feel of your silky skin against his callouses and scars, his mind conjuring images of your usual flowery fragrance intertwining with his yuzu and evergreen scent. The thought of your lips, soft and inviting, added to his desires, and his thoughts wandered to the taste of you, the way your lips would feel against his own.

Izuku's mind is completely consumed by the thought, and he could feel the heat pooling rapidly within him. He desperately wanted to trace the contours of your body, his fingertips exploring every inch, as his desire continued to build. His breath grew heavy. With a raspy whimper escaping his lips, Izuku momentarily lost himself in his fantasies, feeling bead of pre-cum line the tip of his straining erection. The excitement building within him became overpowering, overwhelming his senses.

As his arousal grew, Izuku's scent turned musky, blending with his natural citrus evergreen aroma. Izuku's eager slit continued to weep the viscous fluid, the sticky patch of his boxers trapped against the thick head of his dick. As he continued his task, every so often the precum slick fabric would slide forcefully against his tip, eliciting another deep groan from his lips. His need for you at this point was overwhelming, almost unbearable, and his foot tapped on the floor in rabbit-like frustrated anticipation.

It was a struggle for Izuku to maintain focused on his work, his mind overloaded with longing and the intense desire to fulfill every single one of his fantasies with you. He took a moment to compose himself, releasing a pent-up growl of frustration under his breath. He couldn't afford to lose his shit on day one and scare you off, he wasn't some amateur.

Knowing he must regain control, Izuku attempted to once again throw himself into getting the shop ready for the morning rush. With a reluctant sigh, Izuku carefully took out the raspberry two-toned croissants that he had prepped the day before, placing them on the kitchen island counter to be baked for today's morning rush.

Izuku looked at the clock hanging on the wall, he just needed to be patient.

⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱⊰⋆∘☽༓☾∘⋆⊱

When you first stirred from slumber, your first instinct was to dive back under the blankets in the pre-dawn darkness. Slowly peeling back the covers of your cozy bed, the moon cast a dim glow through the window, barely highlighting your room.

As you slid your feet out from under the quilts and sat up in the chilly room, your sleep blurred gaze fell on the neatly arranged uniform laid out on the dresser. The tan and jade green dress holds an air of cute professionalism and elegance, perfectly suited for your role at one of the 'Lunar Rabbit' cafes.

As you took off your pajamas, your gaze wanders downward, landing upon the growing bruises and scratches that marred your sore hips. You shook your head softly, a mix of emotions flooding rational thoughts. Last night with Katsuki, the tiger you shared your apartment with, had been...intense to say the least, at times his territorial nature could cross bounds. It seemed his bestial inclinations towards you often manifested in these marks and an aching pussy full of the feral feline's load. It had been necessary to join him in the bath, to wash away any traces of other scents but his own, before he was satisfied last night.

Tossing your head in frustrated resignation, you took a deep breath, attempting to push the memory of those bruises aside. You adjusted your uniform in the mirror, determination to face the day with your usual brand of professionalism. With each careful movement, you purposefully shed the weight of hectic apartment life, transforming into the dedicated and fun-loving barista that your colleagues and patrons know you to be.

The early morning air carried an invigorating crispness as you stepped out of your apartment, the pitch darkness of the night slowly yielding to a beautiful, dark purple sky. The stars twinkled above, casting a gentle luminescence upon the world below. The beauty of the early morning took your breath away.

Walking through the quiet streets, you took in the sights of the autumn morning. Vibrant hues of orange and red adorned the foliage, casting a mystical fall atmosphere all around. The gentle crunching of leaves under your feet became a soothing background melody, heightening your anticipation for the day to come. It's a picturesque scene that brings a smile to your face as you take in the beauty around you.

The short walk to the 'Lunar Rabbit' café is refreshing, the cool breeze gently caresses your skin, and you can't help but lift your face towards the sky, embracing the tranquility of the morning. The scent of dew-kissed grass and the earthy fragrance of autumn fills the air, creating a calming atmosphere.

Unlocking the door, you entered the cozy café intricately designed with a charming lunar forest theme. Most of the walls were adorned in a relaxing jade green color, with glistening glass sphere terrariums hanging gracefully from the ceiling. Creating a sense of tranquility whenever the light caught the floating gardens just right.

But it's the back wall mural that always draws the attention of customers—a breathtaking depiction of ethereal rabbits, crafted from swirling shadows, engaged in a graceful dance beneath a moonlit sky adorned with countless stars.

The careful brush strokes bring the scene to life, immersing you in a mysterious and whimsical world. The rabbits are beautifully painted, their whirling silhouettes seem to come alive under the gentle glow of dawn and fairy lights, creating an otherworldly ambiance. It's a mesmerizing sight in the early morning, one that never failed to captivate you in the dark hours.

You stepped into the dim kitchen, a sense of familiarity washing over. The soft glow of the moon outside cast a gentle illumination, highlighting the edges of the counter tops and appliances. You began gathering the necessary ingredients to create the delectable quiches that will soon grace the cafe's display case.

The movement is sudden. You only caught the shifting of shadows on the opposite side of the kitchen out of the corner of your eye. Your heart thumped rapidly against your chest as your attention was drawn to the mysterious figure standing upright near the ovens, rising to full height in a fluid motion. The towering silhouette seemed to materialize out of nowhere from the depths of the dark kitchen. For a split second, you could swear you saw his eyes glimmer in the shadows, as if they were momentarily aglow with a vivid emerald light.

The initial shock sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your previously fatigued body. Startled by the unexpected sight, your muscles tensed, ready to defend yourself if necessary. Eyes narrowed, trying to make sense of the hulking man's presence, you ran through your options.

Then Izuku shifted forward, the illumination from the skylight instantly brightening his features. The ethereal glow revealed his forest green ears nestled in curly hair, and vivid green eyes, capturing the essence of mischief and charm that so often accompanies his presence. A genial grin tugged at the corners of his lips, “Mornin'!” he chirped, closing the oven behind him, the raspberry croissants settled on the racks. His soft rabbit ears entirely too perky for this pre-dawn hour.

Recognition immediately dawned on you, and a mix of relief and frenzied amusement flooded your features. A little laugh escaped your lips, laced with a touch of underlying nervousness, as your eyes met Izuku's. "Midoriya! Damn, you scared me." you exclaimed, the words tumbling out with a hint of manic energy. Izuku's grin widened as you stammered, the sound of his name on your lips seemingly delighting him. Your laughter lingered in the air, relief palpable. All you could do is laugh off the initial fright, glad to see a familiar face in the dimly lit tranquility of the kitchen.

Wait.

Your brow furrowed as confusion washed over. The gears in your exhaustion-addled mind began to turn, piecing together the inconsistency of Izuku's presence in the closed cafe at such an early hour. As a new employee, Izuku shouldn't have the keys to the establishment. "How did you get in?" You blurted out, voice equal parts curiosity and suspicion. You looked at him, searching for an explanation.

Attempting to quell any rising doubts, Izuku quickly weaved a web of deception, words slipping off his silver tongue with practiced ease. His response was laced with an air of authority, as if the decision had been handed down by corporate in a moment of desperation. "Ms.Usagiyama gave me a key," he stated, his voice confident and unwavering. "They needed someone to fill in as an overnight baker, and it seems I was their best option."

When was the last time he had called her anything but Mirko?

Your surprise was blatantly displayed across your face as you registered the information. You didn't expect management, especially Rumi, to be handing out keys so freely and enlist new employees for overnight baking duties. Then again... given the rather unexpected departure of one of the bakers, you supposed the situation must be dire enough to warrant such desperate measures given the shop's popularity.

“...It'll be nice to have help in the mornings” With a shrug, you dismissed your initial doubts, content to accept Izuku's explanation. After all, you're just a team lead, not really the position to harp on the decisions made by upper management when you'll only get a headache for your trouble. As the manager of your location, Rumi can deal with that nonsense. The fact that you're just honestly grateful for the extra hands during the morning rush seems to override any lingering uncertainties.

You stretched your arms out wide, movements fluid and graceful, as a yawn escaped your lips. Fatigue lingered beneath the surface, evident in the slight droop of your eyelids and the darkened circles barely visible beneath your eyes. A testament to your restless night of sleep, body aching from the intensity of the “bath” you shared with Katsuki.

You offered Izuku a small, tired smile as you spoke, voice carrying a soft, lingering weariness. "I'm going to get the quiches ready in the other oven," you said with sleepy determination.

A moment later, as you set about your task, Izuku's acute senses detected a faint scent of burning sugar, tickling the edges of his nostrils. His eyes immediately darted towards the ovens, but upon closer inspection, he realized that the raspberry croissants had only just begun baking, their doughy forms barely touched by the heat. He dismissed the fleeting scent, assuring himself that it must have been a mere figment of his imagination.

Silently observing you moved past him, Izuku's gaze lingered on the circles under your eyes, a telltale sign of exhaustion and a restless sleep. Concern flickered in his emerald gaze, a twinge of protectiveness already tugging at his chest. He silently resolved to ensure that in time you understood that he was there for your well-being, even if you remained blissfully unaware of his true intentions.

Taking it upon himself to ease your tiredness, Izuku moved with a flurry of efficiency at the tea counter. His fingers gracefully danced across the array of tea leaves, their aroma filling the air, selecting his own special blend to help ease your weary spirit. His movements were precise and purposeful, a silent gesture of care for the woman who stood just a few feet away. You vaguely heard the clink of one of the kettles, as he prepared a cup colored with your favorite hue.

You carefully closed the door of the oven, the final quiche now tucked away to bake to golden perfection. You wiped your hands on your apron, turning around just as Izuku walked over, cradling a cup of tea in his large hands. Leaning against the kitchen island, your tired eyes blinked back the haze of exhaustion, momentarily jolted back to alertness as Izuku approached.

“This the seasonal energy tea blend?” Your gaze drifted down to the cup, its colorful pattern a perfect match to your favorite shade. You paused for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing your features, but quickly brushed off the coincidence. After all, how could the new guy know such a personal detail? Thanking Izuku with a sweet smile, you accepted the cup and immediately felt the relaxing warmth it radiated.

The steam rose in ethereal tendrils, almost imperceptible in the dim light that filtered through the skylight overhead. Your eyes followed the wisps up towards the still dark pink sunrise through the window, their graceful dance capturing your attention briefly before you brought the cup to your lips.

With each passing second, Izuku's senses were assailed by that same faint smell that evoked a sense of ...smoke? His brows furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. It lingered in the air, a faint odor that didn't align with the barely warm food in the oven. Izuku couldn't have known it was due to Katsuki, your territorial roommate, his pheromones carrying a note of smoldering embers. The scent itself evoked a strong dislike within Izuku, as his attention to detail in the pastry-making artistry made even the slightest indication of burning a source of disdain. Izuku swept over the kitchen, muttering to himself, trying to locate the source of the offensive smell.

As your finished the last sip of the steaming tea, a wave of warmth washed over you, permeating your body from the inside out. The autumn morning chill retreated, replaced by a comforting sensation that wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. The embrace of the herbal infusion wove its soothing spell, making you feel pleasantly drowsy in the brisk kitchen.

"I'm thinking this new morning tea is a miss" you muttered as you glared half-heartedly at the leaf dregs of the delicious brew. The aching fatigue that had clung to you began to dissipate, replaced by a gentle drowsiness that weighed down your eyelids. A yawn escaped your lips, body responding to the tea's intended purpose. Izuku stepped close, closer than necessary, as he reached out to take the empty tea cup from your hand.

You held out the cup, your hand hovering in the air as Izuku moved closer. But it's in that moment, as Izuku inhaled the lingering scent, nose giving a small twitch, that his gaze narrowed with a sudden intensity. Your drowsy mind failed to register the glare of his emerald eyes, an indication of something more than casual curiosity.

"Why...do you smell like you fell in a damn bonfire?" Izuku's words carried a sharpness, a demand rather than mere inquiry. They sliced through the air, hanging there with a weight that is impossible to ignore. His voice had cut through the air with an uncharacteristic edge, void of the easygoing nature she had come to associate with the coworker facade he portrayed.

Your heart skipped a beat, embarrassment flooding your features as Izuku's question settled in. You were stunned for a moment, the truth of the situation hanging heavily on your heart. Of course, you realized, Izuku's hybrid senses would pick up the scent left behind by Katsuki last night. How could you forget?

Scratches, cum, and pheromones laid on you the night before when Katsuki sensed Izuku's touch from when he thanked you during training. His possessiveness in the bath had been clear, his words a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach as embarrassment filled your voice, intertwining with a shard of defiance. "I...uh...had a bit of a disagreement with my room mate last night," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "But it's nothing to worry about, really."

Your admission threatened to tip the scales of the delicate equilibrium. Whether or not you were fully aware, the territorial boundaries have already been drawn between the territorial tiger and the love-mad hare. The situation a powder keg waiting to ignite, and Izuku the bastard he is, was going to make sure it blew up in the face of this “room mate” of yours.

Izuku's large hands swiftly found their place on your hips, his touch firm yet careful. In one fluid motion, he effortlessly lifted you clean off your feet and placed you onto the island counter. The contrast in your heights is stark, you find yourself still having to tilt your chin to look up in shock at Izuku. His long ears twitched with barely restrained irritation.

As Izuku's nose scrunched involuntarily, a mix of emotions surged within him. The scent of Katsuki, with its notes of cayenne, brown caramel, and smoldering embers, emanated from you like a provocative challenge even without a claim on your neck. To Izuku, it reeked like burnt sugar, an acrid aroma that didn't deserve a place within the confines of his shops.

His possessive instincts kicked into overdrive, an unwavering determination surging through his veins. He leaned down, his breath warm against the soft skin of your neck, his voice dropping to a low, firm tone. "You know," he began, his voice carrying a velvety cadence. "we can't have you smelling like that. It doesn't suit you, and it definitely doesn't suit this cafe."

“After all, who wants to eat in a smoky bakery?” Izuku finished as he knelt with calculated grace, his strong, muscular frame shifting closer to your exposed thighs. As he positioned himself between your parted legs, Izuku's eyes lock onto yours. In the short time you've known him, Izuku's eyes have never seemed this intense, brimming with an unwavering determination to claim you as his, to erase any trace of Katsuki's scent and replace it with his own. Your breath hitched softly, eyes widening at the audacity of Izuku's actions. Looking down at the fierce Flemish Giant between your thighs, you weren't sure you really wanted him to stop, consequences be damned.

Leaning back against the cold counter top, you let out a soft gasp as Izuku's lips met the inside of your knee. The contrast between the cool stone and the warmth of his mouth adds to the growing pleasure that courses through your body.

As Izuku's lips continued their path up your thigh, he deftly moved your cute underwear down your trembling legs. a shiver ran down your spine as the cold morning air kissed your exposed folds. The delicate material glided lower, clinging momentarily to your thighs before slipping over your uniform shoes.

Izuku's emerald eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he took a moment to appreciate the shade of green of the fabric. You're already wearing his color, he couldn't have planned it better himself. With a small grin against your soft skin, he quickly tucked your panties into his pocket, claiming another piece of you for himself while he distracted you with kisses and nips along your thigh.

Izuku's chuckle had a dark edge to it, tinged with an unmistakable sense of triumph as Katsuki's scent gradually began to dissipate. Your slick hole starting to carry the familiar fragrance of your usual jasmine, proof of Izuku's determined assertion of dominance over any traces of his new rival's presence.

With a deliberate and confident movement, Izuku pushed the bottom of your thighs up, hooking your ankles over his broad shoulders and positioning himself between your legs. His biceps barely flexed as his large tan hands gently scooted your hips closer to the edge of the counter, granting him better access to your tantalizingly wet pussy. The shadowy figures of your bodies blended together in the dark kitchen, the only source of light being the faint glow of the dark pink sunrise streaming through the skylight above. The faint rays of the sunrise dance across Izuku's face, highlighting his handsome features and the determination in his emerald green eyes.

Izuku's lips found their way to your tender slit, his tongue gently flicking and teasing your hooded pearl. The expert motions and the expert blend of pleasure and pressure elicited from his mouth heightened the sensations coursing through your body, intensifying your pleasure with each passing moment. Your taste was intoxicating to him, driving his desire further, as if he can't get enough.

Then again, he always did have a sweet tooth.

As his tongue hungrily slipped inside your aching cunt, suddenly the weight of Izuku's actions broke through the sleepy haze. Your mind flashed back to the conversation you had with Katsuki the night before, a warning that now echoed in your head. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, "My room mate is gonna be pissed.” You groaned into your hands. The memory of Katsuki's threat looms in the back of your mind, a promise of violence should Izuku dare to lay a hand on you again.

Izuku lifted his gaze, a mischievous grin spreading across slick lips, as he locked eyes with you. His rabbit ears moved, playfully expressing his amusement. "Oh? And what is your room mate gonna do?" he retorted, a playful challenge in his voice. Without a hint of hesitation, he dives back down, his lips and tongue resuming their intoxicating dance against your sensitive folds and clit . He seemed completely unfazed by the threat, his confidence unyielding, a trait born of his secret life.

Even though the haze of pleasure, you hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether you should reveal the full extent of Katsuki's threat. Reluctantly, you gave in, letting the words slip out before your pleasure-addled brain could catch up. "He said he was gonna 'put you in the ground'," you admitted, lust thick voice tinged with a hint of unease.

Izuku's grip on your hips tightened, his possessive desire flaring again within him. The threat of violence from Katsuki barely registers as a deterrent. With a sinister glimmer in his eyes, Izuku responded, his voice laced with barely-contained excitement. "Is that so?" he murmured darkly, relishing the challenge "Let him try, I don't see a claim on your pretty neck." Without wasting another moment, Izuku went back to work, his mouth and tongue working diligently to replace any remnant of Katsuki's presence.

Feeling a sudden surge of mixed emotions—fear, excitement, desire—your hands had a mind of their own as they reached down lightly grazing over the soft, velvety texture of Izuku's rabbit ears. They quivered beneath your touch, responding to your exploration with an almost eager sensitivity.

As your fingers tangled in his forest green locks, you felt the warmth of Izuku's growl vibrating against your sensitive pussy, an intimate sound that resonated deep within you. The way his growl reverberated against your heated core sent shivers down your spine, making your swollen clit ache with need.

Izuku's mouth continued its relentless assault on your dripping cunt, his agile tongue expertly explored every hidden crevice, every secret fold, as if he was committing your every contour to memory. Each breathless moan that escaped your lips fueled Izuku's frenzy further.

For a moment, the tension in the air feels electric, a heightened awareness of the forbidden nature of your encounter. Despite the threat hanging over Izuku's head, he had explosive pleasure coursing through your body, casting an intoxicating spell over both of you. It's a dangerous game you've walked into, driven by the irresistible magnetism that seems to resonate between you and the hybrids in your life. The world around you seemed to fade away, the though of any brewing storm quickly silenced by the chorus of your erratic breaths and the wet sounds of Izuku's devouring lips.

With each passing moment, Izuku's own arousal became more apparent, his throbbing erection pressing insistently against the fabric of his pants, boxers already growing slippery with precum. The sheer desire in his eyes lit up the dim space, reflecting the hunger growing inside, as his tongue continued its wicked exploration.

As the sensations kept building, Izuku's nibbles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs grew insistent, his teeth grazing your tender folds with just the right amount of pressure to send waves of tingling pleasure coursing through your veins. Each nip sends surges of electricity shooting up your spine, heightening your already stimulated state.

With a final, gentle nip, Izuku's attention returned to your swollen clit, his talented mouth engulfing it entirely, his tongue milking the pleasure from your body with a hunger born of his obsessive adoration.

The cold surface of the kitchen counter beneath you contrasted sharply with the scorching heat that consumed your being. It further intensified the sensations, making your body arch uncontrollably, craving more of Izuku's skilled tongue and the delicious friction against your dripping slit. As Izuku continued his tantalizing assault, a whirlwind of pleasure tore through you. Every touch, every lick, is electrifying, driving you to the edge of sanity and euphoria.

Your body responded instinctively to Izuku's ministrations, muscles tightening, drawing you closer to the precipice of your first orgasm. The familiar coil of ecstasy grew within, winding tighter with each flick of his tongue and gentle suction against your throbbing clit.

And then it happened—your climax hit you with an intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs. It crashed over you like a tidal wave, shattering any composure you still had and leaving you breathless and trembling. Your body quaked, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, drowning out rational thought.

As the echoes of your orgasm still shook you, Izuku didn't let up. His mouth continued to work its magic, prolonging the throes of your pleasure, drawing out every last drop of intoxication from your trembling body. The sensations are almost too much to bear, your mind spiraling in a haze of ecstasy as he licked you dry.

“Do I still reek?” Voice trembling, as you questioned whether the lingering scent of burnt caramel still clung to the air. But Izuku, always perceptive, noted the shift in your aroma, the return of your usual sweet jasmine-like scent. A return that happened a little too quickly for his oral fixation, to be quite honest.

A devious gleam danced in Izuku's emerald eyes as he listened to your words. He leaned back slightly on his knees, his chest rising and falling with his own ragged breaths. "Oh. Sorry, you still smell burnt," he lied with ease, a feigned apologetic smile playing at the corners of his lips. In this moment, he reveled in the idea of indulging his sweet tooth on the object of his obsession- You.

What was another white lie in the grand scheme of things?

Before you could respond, overcome with desire, Izuku plunged back down between your trembling thighs. The sudden latch to your swollen bead caused you to buck against the cold counter, your fingers instinctively tightening around the curls at the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, holding on for dear life. A sharp twinge of over-sensitivity mingles with the persistent pleasure, adding another layer to the overwhelming sensations.

Nose pressed against your mound, Izuku's tongue delved deep, searching for every trace of their intoxicating cum. His mouth moved with a fevered rhythm, his ministrations calculated and purposeful. His tongue speared through your slick folds, flicking and teasing as if he planned to consume every intimate drop. He couldn't get enough of your taste.

Meanwhile, your body danced on the edge of ecstasy once again. The contrasting sensations of pleasure and sensitivity, sent electric currents shooting through every nerve. With each movement of Izuku's skilled tongue, your hips involuntarily bucked and writhed, seeking more of that delicious contact.

As you came a second time, a loud cry escaped your lips, reverberating through the dimly lit space. The intensity of the sensation threatened to overwhelm you, nerves tingling with each tantalizing touch of his skilled tongue.

Izuku's own desire burned hot within him, waiting to be unleashed. Amidst your writhing against his face, Izuku's hips involuntarily jerked forward, another surge of precum staining his boxers. The feeling of the slick fabric against the head of his dick only served to increase his hunger for you.

As your thighs instinctively attempted to clamp shut around Izuku's head in a desperate bid to shield your oversensitive clit, his arms flexed, exerting a near herculean strength to keep them in place. With your back arched and thighs trembling in his hands, you were entirely at Izuku's mercy. It was just easier to surrender to the Flemish Giant's powerful hold rather than fight his iron grip.

Izuku's movements remained unyielding, a relentless pace that threatened to push you past the limits of pleasure and into the realm of cumdrunk ecstasy. In all honesty however, Izuku's own need fueled his actions, his tongue dancing deftly, exploring every hidden crevice with fervor. Maybe he was the cumdrunk one at this point.

“T-too sensitive 'Zuku” your plea for him to let up fell on deaf ears as Izuku wickedly ignored your words, except for the cute way you whimpered his name. Izuku could listen to you stuttering his first name in pleasure for the rest of his life. He took pleasure in pushing you to your limits, eager to indulge in his own selfish desires without hesitation. He had waited so long for this moment, he was going to get his fill. Or at least enough to satiate him while he made his claim.

"You can handle cumming for me again," Izuku insisted, his voice filled with dark adoration as he denied you mercy, before plunging back between your folds. Fuck, he loved you clamping down on his tongue like this, he only hoped you could handle all of him.

Your body quivered in response, overwhelmed by the heightened sensitivity of the onslaught on your swollen clit. Izuku's unwavering focus and iron grip left no room for escape or mercy. His tongue pressed skillfully, teasing and taunting your most sensitive spots, delving in with fervor and purpose. The taste of you, the intoxicating flavor that mingled with your heavenly musk, is like a drug to him, an addiction that drove him deeper into his feral desires.

Your body squirmed uncontrollably, overcome by the unbearable pleasure Izuku exerted on you. Every gentle nip and forceful suck sends you writhing. In desperation, your hands find solace in reaching the base of Izuku's rabbit ears, gently tugging with an almost desperate plea. Too much..!

But far from slowing down Izuku, the sensations of your tender grip on his ears only served to fuel his primal instincts. It's as if the touch of your shaky hands ignited a feral fire within him, intensifying the frenzied pace of his ministrations. His own need reached a fever pitch, his tongue dancing with an even more voracious appetite, ravishing every inch of your cunt.

Your body reacted uncontrollably to the overwhelming sensations, saliva escaping your lips as you moaned and whimpered in a haze of pleasure. Your legs twitching and trembling, but Izuku's firm grip prevented you from dislodging him, keeping you at his mercy.

The sound of Izuku eating out your soaked cunt echoed within the otherwise empty café kitchen, the lewd noises amplified by the decorated tiles. Your grip on the base of Izuku's furry ears tightened, desperation evident as you sought an anchor to ground herself amidst the waves of pleasure forced on you.

Driven by his feral determination, Izuku continued to devour you with a relentless pace. His imposing length now popping up and over the band of his slick boxers, yearned for release. As your squirms and whimpers grew more unrestrained, your body teetered on the edge of a precipice, ready to crash to a blinding climax.

As Izuku forced a third orgasm from your bullied clit, your vision faded into a hazy whiteness, the sheer intensity of the pleasure causing your consciousness to spiral into a realm of overwhelming ecstasy. Your mind became consumed by a kaleidoscope of sensations, blurring the boundaries of pleasure and reality. Your entire being is overwhelmed by the whiteout, a surge of ecstasy that drowns out all other thoughts and sensations.

You remained lost in your own world of ecstasy, mind blissfully blank by the overwhelming pleasure that coursed through your veins. In the midst of the pleasure-induced haze, you barely registered Izuku standing to his full height pushing 7 feet, his uniform khakis and boxers shifted low on his chiseled hips. His imposing figure cast a shadow over your flushed form. He reveled in the sight of your face caught in the throes of your cumdrunk daze, body trembling and clearly craving further gratification.

Who was he to deny you?

With another shift of fabric, Izuku's thick cock sprung forth, liberated from its confines, hardened and throbbing. His erection stood tall despite it's weight, demanding attention, the embodiment of Izuku's primal nature. Flemish Giants are big in, well, every way. If your mind wasn't completely blank right now, you'd probably be worried about how the monstrous girth could fit in you. A concern Izuku clearly didn't have.

With an unquenchable desire driving him, Izuku moved between your quivering thighs, positioning himself to align with your sopping entrance still twitching from your last orgasm. The immense size of his swollen cock head presented a challenge for your tight and unprepared opening. Your poor pussy's struggle to accommodate Izuku's massive girth sent shockwaves through both of your bodies, setting the stage for the battle between resistance and persistence. Don't worry, he'll make sure he fits.

The first few frantic and desperate tries by Izuku only drew a frustrated growl from the large hybrid. Your body strained to accommodate the overwhelming size of Izuku's cock, your senses overloaded with both pleasure and over sensitivity. But with a slick pop, the tip of Izuku's engorged member finally breached your entrance, forcing its way inside.

You remained blissfully lost in a euphoric haze, your body intertwined with Izuku's as he leaned over you. The cafe's dim lighting from the sunrise cast gentle shadows across the kitchen, highlighting Izuku's disheveled green curls and the captivating glow of his emerald eyes, resembling one of the rabbits forged from swirling shadows on the mural that adorns the wall.

Leaning over you, Izuku's dominant side asserts itself, swiftly pressing your knees up towards your shoulders. Applying pressure to open them wider, he exposed every inch of your quivering slit spread tight around the head of his dick. With a growl of determination, Izuku bullied his way further inside your depths, his larger size causing a twinge of pain as he stretched you to your limit to accommodate him. Your body struggled with the difference between him and Katsuki.

The sheer size of Izuku's cock, larger than even your room mate's, brings a mixture of pleasure and ache to your sensitized cunt. While Katsuki's barbs had their own unique sting, the contrast in size between him and the rabbit currently using you like a fucktoy induced new levels of soreness and bliss.

Izuku thinks he may have found heaven when he finally breaks in your pussy enough for his monstrous dick to bottom out against your cervix. Undeterred by your cunt's struggle, Izuku sets a rapid rabbit pace, his thrusts forceful and demanding.

The sound of their intertwining bodies filled the room, the wet slapping of Izuku's balls against your ass creating a rhythm that added to the sound of their escalating pleasure. Despite the stinging stretch, you remained freely vocal, too lost in your bliss to be concerned about anything else. Izuku's moans and your cries filled the air, adding to the sinful symphony.

As Izuku's large muscles flexed, his grip on the counter edge on either side of your head tightened, seeking leverage to thrust even more deeply. His forearms came to rest on the cold surface. Your knees were pinned again Izuku's chest, as each of his motions rocked your body forcefully against the stone counter of the kitchen island.

As Izuku continued his relentless pace, his large muscles flexing with each powerful thrust, his emerald eyes shone with feral bliss. Soft forest green ears were pinned back against his curls, a clear sign of his animalistic desire taking hold. Noticing your slightly pained fucked-out expression, Izuku found a sort of sadistic glee in your reactions. He couldn't help but revel in the sense of superiority it gave him.

No fucking way that crispy room mate of yours has ever filled you like this before.

"Aw, am I too big? Does it sting?" Izuku crooned huskily in your ear, voice filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction. "Fuck..! Taking me like such a good little pet- I knew you could handle it.” Even if his love is tainted by selfish obsession, he takes genuine pride in your resilience. Not everyone could take his bitch breaking girth the first time. Or at all.

You could only offer a weak nod in response to what little you catch of his words. Your walls clung to his thick length, the stretch more than you've ever experienced before. Yet, your blissed-out state allowed you to push through the discomfort of having your guts rearranged, exchanging it for a facet of ecstasy that only Izuku could provide. You were intoxicated.

The grip of your walls around his pulsing member further fueled his desire, his relentless pace never faltering. Your pussy clung desperately to his too thick cock, the force of each slam eliciting a a ragged gasp as he bottomed out against your cervix. His intense gaze locks onto your dilated eyes, drinking in every nuance of your cumdrunk expressions as you submitted to him completely.

For Izuku, this moment is the culmination of his desires since the moment you were hired at one of his coffee shops. His obsessive desire for you have driven him to go to great lengths, even "hiring" himself as a barista to get close to you. Now, his darkest desires are being fulfilled, the mate he craves finally within his grasp.

Fuck, he wasn't going to last much longer with you looking past him all fucked-out like that.

Intense pleasure coursing through your veins, you were overcome by the sensory overload of cumming again. Saliva escaped your parted lips, a shiny trail down the side of your chin. Your moans and whimpers intermingled with the wet, lewd sounds of your boss' thrusts into you, heavy balls accentuating squelches with quick slaps against your ass. Your gushing cunt walls attempted to tighten around Izuku's massive member with some success as you reached one last mind shattering orgasm. Your trembling pussy clamped down as best it could, Izuku thrusting all the while.

As he reached his own tipping point, Izuku's rabbit ears stood straight up, a visible sign of his peaking pleasure. “S-shit” He whined, your tight cunt was strangling his cock, causing his foot to bounce uncontrollably as he thrust as fast as possible. Each slam was met with the rhythmic spasming of your walls, clenching onto his too thick length with a desperate intensity. The sensation of your pussy clinging to his dick on every exiting pull, and the feel of his mushroom tip slamming against your cervix, was too much for Izuku. Driven by his unbridled desire, Izuku maintained his rabbit-like pace until the end, unable to resist the sweet agony of the tight vice that surrounded him.

With a deep groan of satisfaction, Izuku succumbed to the milking motion of your tight ring of muscles. The tip of his cock became engorged and sensitive, the pressure pushing him over the edge, the slit gushing forth with his warm cum. Pumping spurt after spurt, Izuku filled your womb with his seed, the pulsing sensation mixing with the raw pleasure that coursed through you both. One of his fuzzy ears cocked to the side, a visual display of the euphoria that engulfed him.

As with most rabbit hybrids, Izuku momentarily leaned all his weight on your pinned legs and his forearms, his body collapsing with the intensity of his climax. Your cunt walls stretched tight around his member still milked and clenched, coaxing every drop of his essence from within him. Overwhelmed by the influx of cum you could only moan brokenly in bliss, your consciousness long faded away during your last orgasm.

In the aftermath of your shared climax, Izuku remained trembling and breathless over your spent body, his emerald eyes still gleaming with a primal intensity, as he nuzzled your hair. The cafe was filled with the scent of your combined arousal, a poignant reminder of the powerful connection. A perfect mix of pine needles, yuzu zest and jasmine blossoms in the smug Izuku's opinion.

Much better than that burnt sugar bastard's stench.

Izuku needs a few tries to withdraw from your clasping cunt, before the head of his dick pops free of your pubic ridge with a final jerk of his hips. He hissed in oversensitive pleasure at the sensation of pulling free of your quim. Geez, were all humans this small on the inside? He wondered as his cum began to gush out of you. Izuku's viscous seed quickly flowed down your folds, trailing onto the cold counter top before beginning to drip onto the floor. He could definitely get used to that image. “You should get some rest” Izuku smugly beamed down at you before planting a soft kiss on your forehead, your lids heavy with fatigue. You could hardly fight the chemicals, both natural and otherwise at this point, from pulling you into slumber, and soon you lost the battle. He smiled as he heard your breathing even out, asleep.

Izuku's tea, and it's added ingredient, had taken longer to take effect than he expected. When he saw how exhausted you were, he had just intended for you to nap through your shift. Cuddle with your unconscious form under a cozy blanket in the autumn afternoon during his lunch hour, maybe. Izuku was so glad he'd been given enough time make you cry his name so prettily before you slipped into sleep.

In comparison to this morning, you looked so serene and relaxed, even after your intense encounter. Izuku leaned over you, his forearms resting on the cold stone, nuzzling your hair tenderly. His nose twitched, catching your mingled scents again, making his rabbit ears flick with delight. Izuku, hidden behind his gentle facade once again, wished he had “hired” himself sooner. He could have felt you shuddering around him months ago, but he vowed to make up for lost time now that you were already spreading yourself for him on his kitchen counter.

With gentle care, Izuku's muscular frame picked up your sleeping body from the kitchen counter. He cradled in his arms with a protective tenderness, mindful not to jostle you from slumber. He carried down the hall to the employee room across from the office, where a comfy jade couch awaited, a place for you to rest while he tended to the café.

As Izuku lay you down on the couch, your sleepy form stirred and before turning over with a yawn. Izuku would have stayed there, with his forehead against yours, all day. However, as the sunrise streamed through the kitchen skylight, Izuku became aware of just how late in the morning it was. With the sun coming up, he only had a few minutes until the coffee shop opened. He watched over you for a moment more, ensuring you were comfortably tucked into a cushy blanket, before he turned his attention to the café.

After all, as the owner of the 'Lunar Rabbit' chain, Izuku had responsibilities to fulfill.

Izuku is gonna be mad when he realizes he left the pastries in the oven, but raspberry croutons are a small price to pay in the long run.

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merakidoll · 2 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰

soundgasm! voice actor nanami had to find inspiration for his script somehow. and you just so happened to be the perfect princess- his neighbor.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎀 ꒱ — warnings : black chubby reader! bimbo reader ( not really mentioned but it’s me sooo duh) infidelity?!! masterbastion ( m & f ). creaming, squirting, nanami has a curveeeeee, voice actor nanami! cum eating, i think nanami’s calls reader princess once! reader x another jjk man ?!? >_< pwp!! 17+ please respect that :)

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎀 ꒱ — mirahnote! : i got carried away! it took me thirty minutes to write this, that’s how HEAVY it was on my mind. kisses to my bestie and jazz for reading over this for me <33

“cold” nanami began. “the cold wind blew against the trees. pretty leaves falling yet the man could only focus on the one important attribute.” moving his eyes from the beautiful autumn ground they met yours. your window was open, the cashmere robe hanging off of your shoulders making him eager to see more. “the women was beautiful. one of a kind” he took a deep exhale as you slowly slid the fabric from your naked skin. “her skin looking so soft through the window, so smooth and yummy that my mouth watered- no! the man’s mouth watered, needing to taste it” he groaned at his mistake, but never once lost eye contact with you.

you smirked falling back onto your bed, your legs cascading in the air. a beautiful wet, slimy pussy coming into his view. he could see your hand slide up your legs teasing him. “it took nothing for her pussy to become wet with need. juices dripping from one hole to the next teasing the man in the window.” bringing your hand to yourself, nanami only could imagine the nasty moan that feel from you. “what a needy girl the man thought. he watched how her perfect hands, that had the perfect nails rubbed over her clit. one circle- then another, then her legs began to quiver.” bitting down onto his lips, nanami finally began to give himself the pleasure he had been craving.

slowly undoing his slacks he watched the puddle you began to make on your bed. his curved cock popped out hitting his stomach. he was red in need, pre cum all over himself. gripping his thick dick, he squeezed himself more of him oozing out creating a mess onto the khakis that would be a bitch to clean up. “s-she knew the mind games.” he paused, his hands pumping his length “she knew what he really wanted to see.” you spread your legs wider, using your fingers to spread yourself open. “and she finally-mmm. f-finally gave it to him”as you pushed one finger inside of you. one- but nanami and you both knew that wasn’t nearly enough.

he wished he could see your faces. how you shut your eyes and scrunched your face, but god the view of your fat cunt getting stuffed was making up for it. “there you go — t-the man said. he watched as the second finger b-broke through her walls. fuck princess!” nanami’s balls were so heavy, his cock bobbing in his hands, he was so close - so, so close. “the puddle beneath her g-grew. the man in the window’s cock so painfully hard that h-his vision blurred with each pump to himself.” as you quickened your pace, he matched. you fucked yourself so hard that juices began to squirt out of you.

so nanami squeezed down onto himself, strokes becoming faster and sloppy, “s-so close” he mumbled into the microphone. “soo- mmmfuck there y-you go princess” right as your began to cream all around your fingers. his cum shot out of him. ropes upon ropes falling onto his desk- his microphone. he chanted how much he loved you. how when he had the chance he would fuck your cunt full. his eyes closed, finally losing contact with you and just imagining the blissful dream. taking deep ragged breaths, he opened his eyes. the sight before him pulling at his heart, but shit did it make him hard.

toji stood above you - but looked directly at nanami. with his shit grin he scooped some of your cream off of your sensitive cunt stuffing those fingers in his mouth. “fuck!” nanami spoke into the still cum covered mic. “the man in the window forgot all about her husband.”

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alwaysmicado · 5 months

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keep you warm

1.3k | Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

post-outbreak, established relationship, pregnancy Summary: You reveal to Joel that you are carrying his child. He vows to keep you both safe and warm, always. A/N: This fic is a bit different from the things I've posted so far and it was so much fun to write. I put my heart (and tears) in it and I hope it will bring you as much comfort as it did me. 🤍 masterlist

There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights. - Bram Stoker, Dracula

The car engine growls softly as it cruises down the winding road, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of autumnal hues.

Joel has his hands placed firmly on the wheel as he glances over at your sleeping form, your silhouette painted in the warm glow of the sunset. The air inside the car is filled with a comfortable silence, the weight of your continued journey hanging in the atmosphere.

As you navigate through the autumn landscape, daylight begins to fade, casting long shadows that sway with the curves of the road. Joel steals a glance in the rearview mirror, squinting against the diminishing light. The forest on either side of the road stands like a wall of rust and amber, a silent observer to your passage.

You stir in your sleep, a soft moan escaping your lips. Joel reaches, caressing your cheek gently, tracing a promise with tenderness he thought long gone.

Until he met you.

A few miles ahead, Joel spots a fitting spot by the edge of the forest. He eases the car to a stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires. The engine hums into silence, leaving only the rustling of leaves and the fading whispers of the day.

“We’re here, darlin’.”

Your eyes flutter open to Joel’s soft touch, his hand brushing away the remnants of sleep. You both step out, the cool evening air enveloping you like a gentle embrace.

Setting up camp unfolds as a familiar routine. Joel sparks a small fire, the flames dancing in the encroaching darkness. The scent of burning wood mixes with the crisp fall air, creating an ambiance that is both comforting and hauntingly beautiful. You arrange your sleeping bags near the fire, a makeshift sanctuary in the wilderness.

As you sit by the fire, the warmth casting a soft glow on your faces, Joel pulls out two cans of beans and some beef sticks. You eat in companionable silence, the crackling of the fire punctuating the stillness.

Yet, Joel can’t help but notice the subtle changes in you—grimaces and absent-minded belly rubs.

He sets his half-eaten bowl down, a subtle tension settling into the contours of his expression as he watches you closely. “You ain’t lookin’ too good, honey,” he notes, his voice laced with concern, slicing through the ambient crackling that reverberates in the air. “Somethin’ not sittin’ right?”

Gazing at Joel across the fire-lit expanse, his weathered face bathed in the flickering glow of the dancing flames, your heart swells with love—and dread.

You clutch your belly as you double over, a sudden, strong wave of nausea overcoming you. Startled, Joel’s eyes widen, but he reacts instinctively, abandoning all else to rush to your side.

With a tender urgency, he crouches beside you as you vomit, his hands moving intuitively to cradle your back. His voice, usually rugged and steady, softens into a soothing cadence. “Easy now, darlin’,” he murmurs, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “I’m right here.”

Your body tenses with each convulsion, tears mingling with the involuntary heaves, but Joel’s steady hands and reassuring words calm you.

As the waves of nausea subside, he eases you back, offering a makeshift cloth to wipe your mouth. His gaze holds a blend of worry and tenderness, the firelight flickering in the depths of his eyes.

“Thanks,” you manage, your voice still shaky.

“That’s alright, darlin’,” he replies, a crooked half-smile playing on his lips. “We look out for each other, remember?”

Nestling closer to the warmth of the fire, Joel wraps a comforting arm around you. The quiet forest listens, an unspoken witness to the vulnerability shared beneath the starlit sky.

“You gonna tell me what’s been goin’ on?” Joel asks, his voice a gentle yet firm prompt.

You swallow hard and nod weakly, lifting your head up from his shoulder to meet his gaze. His brow is furrowed as he searches your watery eyes for answers. “What happened, darlin’?” he asks, wiping away the lone tear that is tracing a delicate path down your cheek.

The unspoken secret sits heavy within you, a silent burden that has been shaping every whispered conversation and stolen glance over the past few weeks. Each passing day deepens the weight, a constant companion in your shared journey.

The fear of Joel’s reaction, the uncertainty of the world you are living in, and the vulnerability of bringing innocence into chaos weave a complex tapestry of emotions, a heavy cloak draped over the anticipation of a new life.

You have never been more terrified.

“Joel, I–” your voice is shaky and you need to gather all your strength to not break down into a million pieces. “I think I might be pregnant.”

The revelation hangs in the air, momentarily freezing time. Joel’s eyes widen, a mosaic of emotions crossing his face—shock, concern, disbelief, and then a surprising warmth.

He reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently. “Pregnant?” he repeats, his voice softer now, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Mhm,” you sniffle, your vulnerability echoing in the quiet night. “I swear I wanted to tell you before, I just–” you hiccup and wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m so fucking scared, Joel.” You look into his warm eyes for reassurance, your lip quivering, your whole body trembling with anxiety.

Joel’s expression softens further, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he puts his hands on your arms, his eyes boring into you. “It’s gonna be alright, darlin’.” He pulls you into a gentle embrace, the firelight casting a comforting glow around you.

“We’ll figure it out together.”

As Joel’s reassuring words wash over you, a tangible weight lifts from your shoulders, carried away by the currents of relief. You allow yourself to breathe out a heavy sigh and let your tears run freely as you cling to the man who has saved you in more ways than he will ever know.

In this moment, beneath the vast canvas of the starlit sky, you find solace in each other—a fragile yet resilient hope kindling in the midst of your endless journey.

Later, as you settle into your sleeping bags, Joel’s arm draped protectively over you, you feel a surge of gratitude. The warmth of Joel’s body pressed against yours creates a safe haven, momentarily replacing your fears with the undeniable comfort you both find in each other’s arms.

“Sarah always wanted a little brother or sister,” Joel breaks the silence with a murmur, his warm breath ghosting your neck. “I wish she could be here to experience it.”

“I’m sure she’s going to look after her little sibling,” you whisper with a soft smile on your lips, tears silently pooling in the fabric of your sleeping bag. “Just like she’s been looking after you all this time.”

“I’ll do everything to keep you and our child safe and warm, my love. I promise.”

In the quiet cradle of the night, you drift into sleep, the rustling leaves and the forest’s whispers weaving a lullaby for your dreams.

Joel tenderly places his hand on your small bump, whispering promises to the precious life growing within, his words a secret shared with the quietude of the night.

He lifts his head to look at your face, a soft smile gracing his lips as he cherishes the serenity painted across your features.

“You are the light of my life.”

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itsswritten · 2 months

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when the sea calls for three | intro

Paring: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: In the aftermath of war, peace reigns over the realms of Prythian, but the delicate balance hangs in the hands of two unlikely mediators—You and Lucien. As the newly appointed Emissaries of Peace, your duty is clear: maintain alliances, foster understanding between courts, and navigate the intricate webs of fae politics.

But when fate deals an unexpected twist, revealing that you possess not one, but two mates, the tranquillity you've worked so hard to uphold is suddenly threatened. Caught between two males who refuse to share, you find yourself thrust into a precarious position, torn between duty and desire.

What will you do and who will you choose?

I need you.

Those three words were all it took.

༄

In the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the room, flickering reflections of pinks and purples across the walls. Dawn Court had always been radiant, the sky, cobalt and rose. A sunrise all day long. You were proud to call it your home.

You stood before the ornate mirror, fingers delicately adjusting the intricate buttons of your tunic.

The decision to choose neutral clothing had been yours, a deliberate choice born from the realisation of what your new role weighed. You were to be a mediator, a peacekeeper, it only seemed fitting to don a uniform that symbolised your neutrality and dedication to maintaining balance among the realms.

The fabric shimmered with a subtle elegance, adorned with delicate motifs that whispered of the courts you now served. The tapestry of symbolism spoke something that words could not, of a new beginning, a new chapter– a time of peace.

The design along the back of your tunic, three majestic mountains rose proudly, their peaks reaching towards the heavens. Behind them, the sun emerged, casting its golden rays that spread warmth and light– a nod to your home.

In the left above, a fully fleshed sun beamed down upon the mountains, radiating its brilliance and vitality. To the right, three stars and a crescent moon were sewn with meticulous care, representing the rest of the solar courts and their celestial splendour.

On your left sleeve, leaves were hand stitched along your cuff, bronze thread danced in a graceful swirl, climbing upwards towards your elbow, mirroring the silver icy shards that adorned the right sleeve. Autumn and Winter in perfect harmony.

Around your collar, a delicate pattern of vines and roses intertwined, symbolising the beauty and vitality of the Spring Court's bloom. And along the trimmings of the tunic's bottom, waves swirled in a mesmerising dance, evoking the Summer Court's boundless energy and fluidity.

Your tunic jacket cascaded gracefully, halting just at your hips, while beneath it, a long, flowing cream pleated skirt billowed elegantly to the floor. With your hair initially draping freely, you gently pulled it forward, ensuring the intricate details adorning the back of your tunic were given their rightful moment to shine.

As you smoothed the fabric, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in the role you had been given. Playing a bridge between courts, and worlds. A mediator between the people.

Politics had never really been something you relished in, but you were good with people, and good with your words. Qualities that your friend desperately convinced you, were integral to this role.

A soft knock on the door interrupted your reverie, and you turned to see Lucien, your friend, standing in the doorway. His mechanical eye wiring at the sight of you. He was wearing a similar tunic, one that was longer on his body but mirrored the designs of your own.

It was Lucien who had told you he needed you.

I need you.

He had written to you one evening. His correspondences were usually lighthearted and filled with friendly banter, but this weighed heavily in a way that was so unlike him.

“I could really use your help.” Lucien had breathed, when you came to visit after his letter.

I need you. I need my friend. I need someone to lean on. I need someone to laugh with. It’s been too long. I miss you.

Was what you heard. His message had been simple yet poignant, a plea for assistance and companionship.

You had always had a way with words and sounds. Understanding the gaps in between the breaths, the underlying emotions and intentions woven into each syllable. Most didn't realise what could be revealed in their words. How the octaves and melodic tones of their tongues sung of unspoken truths.

Lucien and you had shared a friendship that spanned many years, reaching back to your earliest memories of childhood. As children and teens, you had been inseparable, playmates in a time that now felt like a distant memory. However, when borders grew stricter and tensions mounted, those days were abruptly halted.

It wasn't until the dark days of Amarantha's reign that fate brought you back together, through the intervention of Nuan, a mutual friend. She was a skilled Alchemist of your court, who had aided Lucein in his healing, crafting his beautiful golden eye. And because he was no longer a part of Autumn, you were able to reconnect and your friendship flourished, even if it was predominantly through ink and parchment.

"Ready to face them?" he asked with a tight smile, his voice carrying a note of anticipation.

I’m nervous. Is what you heard under his words.

You returned his smile with a nod, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. “Of course, I was born ready Lucie” you replied, effortlessly flicking his nickname with a casual ease.

Despite having a smart mouth now, Lucien was a name you often got tongue-tied in your younger years. Lucie had been a much easier sound to make, and you didn’t hesitate to use the endearing name when wanting to tease.

Lucien rolled his eyes, but your casual demeanour softened the nerves that had laced his previous words. That had been your intention.

Just one example of how your intuition always left you saying the right thing. Of course there were times this didn’t happen, but those occasions were extremely rare.

“We should decide which courts reside under our care before the meeting” Lucien began, striding in front of the mirror to adjust his own tunic. “And I have to say you’ve made more progress with Tamlin these past two months than I have in the past year," Lucien breathed, a hint of admiration in his voice while he smiled at you through the mirror.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "What, like it was hard?"

Tamlin's stubbornness had been a challenge, but your natural charisma and persuasion had proven effective in bridging the gap between his court and the others. His residents had at least started returning home, and thanks to your work, there was actually something for them to return to.

You huffed, before turning your friend around, pulling at his collar to adjust. Before tidying up his long auburn hair.

"I can’t do both though Lucien. I'm not dealing with your brothers and Tamlin. That's too much, even for me” You remarked.

Lucien’s relationship with his brothers remained strained, the scars of their shared trauma running deep. Despite Beron’s demise, Eris was now Autumn’s High Lord. The brothers wounds were not so easily healed, and the weight of their history continued to cast a shadow over their interactions.

“Plus I do believe some forced proximity may do you and Tamlin some good” you pointed a look at him, referencing their damaged friendship.

Lucien bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing at you. He couldn’t help but envy how effortlessly you seemed to navigate the complexities of every situation, every conversation. Always knowing the right words to say, and the right actions to take. Qualities that had undoubtedly drawn him to seek your assistance in the first place.

Qualities he forgot he would also be susceptible to.

"I'll look after Autumn and your hotheaded brothers. You deal with the depressed blondie," you suggested, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes.

"Fine," Lucien conceded, begrudgingly acknowledging the wisdom in your words.

“I want Dawn, it’s my home and Thesan would be heartbroken if I wasn’t his courtier,” you asserted confidently.

"Then I'll have Day," Lucien negotiated, a hint of determination in his tone.

As the conversation turned to the remaining courts, you paused, considering the options carefully. The Night Court held a particular significance for Lucien, given his mate's presence there, but you were keenly aware of the tension that still lingered between them.

"I can take Night if that helps. I've already been the one updating their Spymaster recently anyway," you offered, your voice steady as you finally finished straightening up Lucien. Pulling your hands swiftly behind your back.

He mirrored your pose "Then I will manage Winter," Lucien conceded, a sense of resignation colouring his words. He wasn’t very fond of the cold, but neither were you.

But he was happy to take this one for you, as you had taken Autumn and Night for him.

"Summer is mine. You can have the humans, your Band of Rejects or whatever they're called," you remarked playfully.

"Exiles," Lucien corrected with a humorous purr, a brief flicker of amusement softening his eyes.

“Apologies…band of exile…-d rejects” you humoured, before you felt him nudge you with his shoulder.

Your soft laughs filled the room before you tilted your head to look at your dearest friend “Look at you now. Exiled no more. Mr. Emissary of Peace”

Lucien smiled proudly at the title, he had come a long way. This new chapter for Phrytian was daunting, but he was grateful to have you by his side “You ready?”

With a nod you grinned wide “Let’s go peacekeep the fuck out of them Lucie!”

Next Part >>

a/n: Eeeekkkk so here's a little intro to set the tone and roles! Just a little disclaimer, there will be a few things in this series that haven't happened in the books, but it works for the plot. Only small things, so just go with it please! Excited to share this story with you all <3 - Lottie x

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar azriel #azriel fanfic #angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #eris x azriel #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x reader x azriel #eris x y/n #eris x you #azriel x eris

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rachalixie · 11 months

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Can yyou write something for minho x reader where they're maybe hanging out with the rest of skz in public or something and she gets sacred or something and hold/tugs on minhos shirt and minho gets all soft and just 😳☹️🤧

a/n: this took me entirely too long, the months long writers block is getting to me!! but i hope you like it, it is definitely inspired by the recent haunted house content hehe

you don’t know how you ended up here.

well actually, you do. it was seungmin and jeongin’s doing, dragging the rest of the boys and you along with them to this haunted house in the middle of may when there shouldn’t be haunted houses outside of autumn.

and really, you were all game on the drive there, teasing felix where he sat wringing his hands together and biting his bottom lip in nervousness. you’ve never been to a haunted house, but you were more excited than anything. you liked scary movies enough, the sheer ridiculousness of it made you laugh more than scream in fear. how could this be any different?

but as you’re standing there, halfway through the building and breathless from the way you’ve been shrieking, you regret everything about agreeing to be here. turns out, real life jump scares are much worse than ones on a screen. you’ve been glued to minho’s side the entire time you’ve been here, so close to asking him to turn back and leave through the entrance even though you have the same amount of distance left until the exit.

you’re towards the back, letting the two youngest lead the group and chan, the ever protective leader, is trailing behind you and minho at the end. it would be nice to have him as a protective wall if he didn’t cower to the side every time a single noise was heard, exposing your backs to whatever was behind you. you couldn’t complain though - you were doing the exact same thing.

between the screeches and taunts of the clowns and ghosts and creeping zombies jumping out at you and the combined chorus of yells from your party, you’re overwhelmed. you grip onto minho’s shirt, turning your face to hide into his chest and you have to walk in an awkward sideways shuffle but hearing his fluttering heartbeat under your ear is comforting enough to make it worth it.

the thing is, you know he’s scared too. you saw his face when you arrived there and he heard the screams coming from inside, no matter how hard he tries to hide it you can always read his feelings like the words are written across his features.

or maybe it’s the way he’s gripping onto your hand, the one not tangled into his shirt, like a lifeline. you don’t know who is squeezing tighter, but it will be a miracle if neither of you end up with numb fingertips by the time you get out of here.

you hear him gasp and you peek up at him to see his furrowed brow and slightly parted pout as he looks at you with wide eyes. neither of you are very keen on public affection - you’d prefer to keep your cuddles and smiling kisses and heated touches at home, safe and protected and yours. to have you tucked into him like this because you’re scared was a new experience.

you can practically see the gears turning in his head as his gaze flickers back and forth between you and the dark hallway you’re surrounded by. when you flinch at a bang behind you, his eyes turn bright and he wraps an arm around you, pinning you to him as he shuffles you along. he covers your exposed ear with his hand, blocking out the sounds, and sooner than you think you’re walking out of the building that you swear you’ll never step foot in again.

somehow you’re miles ahead of the others, and you get to watch them a wander out in various shades of disarray. felix is draped across jisung’s shoulders, looking like one of the ghosts that were haunting you just moments ago. jeongin and seungmin were grinning and excitedly recounting their favorite parts, and chan looks a second away from murdering them. hyunjin is coddling changbin, a hilarious contrast to how they usually function.

and minho still has a protective arm around you, gazing warily at the exit doors like something was going to follow you out of there. you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger on his skin for a moment before pulling back. it shocks him out of whatever state he was in, and his eyes go soft when he looks at you.

“okay?” he asks, low enough so no one but you could hear. his voice is like music to your ears after they were attacked by the loud sounds of your friends.

“yes,” you grin, leaning into him a little bit more. “my hero.”

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #lee know imagines #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #skz fluff #lee know fluff #soft #stray kids soft thoughts

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tookhimtomypenthouse · 5 months

Text

Hate Yourself - Chapter One

series warnings: female!reader x oliver quick, past/implied felix x oliver, dub-con, stalker behavior, voyeurism, degradation, dacryphilia, bloodplay, gaslighting, manipulation, untagged story elements (the warnings aren't exhaustive!), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT bbgirl

summary: you’re hired as a maid after Oliver comes to own Saltburn, and find your employer to be very invested in your work

minors dni!

Your palms felt sweaty as you gripped your bags, staring into the massive gates of the mansion. You were tempted to turn around and run as the grandiosity of the building overwhelmed you. It felt like the iron jaws of the gate could open and eat you at any moment. Your torment was short-lived, however, as the creaky gates opened as you nudged them forward. Just beyond the courtyard, imposing wood doors awaited. Gravel crunched underfoot as you made your way over to them. Just before you could knock upon the doors, they swung open to reveal a graying, stern man.

"Welcome to Saltburn, miss." The man gives you a tight smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You must be the new housekeeper?"

"Yes, that would be me," you laugh awkwardly, unsure of what to say next.

"Lovely to meet you. My name is Duncan, head butler. Anthony will take your bags to your quarters. Come, and I'll show you around the grounds." You set your bags down and hurry after Duncan, who, despite his age, has a considerable stride.

Each room in the house seemed grander than the next. The soft autumn sunlight pouring in from the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated the formal dining room. Sheer red curtains floated elegantly to the sides, fluttering as you swished by.

"Wow," you breathe out as you catch a glimpse of the massive garden. You can't help but gape at the massive hedges that seem to form a huge wall of green or at the multiple elegant fountains spraying in the air. "The grounds are so beautiful."

Duncan casts a fleeting glance through the window and continues on with the tour. Your head spins as you try to remember all the rooms and build a mental map of the estate, but the rooms seem to never stop coming. You are lost in the task when you finally arrive in the master bedroom.

"Here is the master bedroom," Duncan says, startling you out of your trance. The room is grand, with large wooden furniture and sumptuous fabrics and paintings. The closet door is ajar, revealing a closet full of crisp suits and hanging shirts without a single wrinkle. Expensive ties are neatly tucked into an organizer above a row of pristine dress shoes. "Sir Oliver is particular about how this room is made up, but Lyuba will teach you the specifics later."

You give him a nod, soaking in the finery and sheer wealth of this place. It's a far cry from the squatty brick council house you grew up in. The momentary thought of home makes your eyes prickle. You push the thought away and follow Duncan as he continues. Tears won't help you navigate the maze that is Saltburn.

You flop into your bed with a deep sigh. The rest of the day passed so quickly as Lyuba, the woman whose job you were taking over, taught you the ins and outs of the job. When you close your eyes, you swear you can still see towels and sheets being folded. Lyuba was impressed at the speed at which you picked up the proper technique for all the linens, but you were no match for her practiced hands. It would take some time before you perfectly replace the experienced housekeeper. No use worrying about it now, you thought as you slipped towards sleep. The room you had in the servant's quarter of the estate was still larger than any you'd ever stayed in.

Right before sleep could overtake you, you heard a loud creaking sound. Icy fear flooded into your chest as you bolted upright. Your eyes weren't adjusted to the room's darkness, but it didn't stop you from frantically peering into the dark for the source. Through the shadows, you couldn't make out anything specific. After a few moments, you noticed that your door was open a crack. Did I leave it open? You aren't sure if you did. Your furiously pounding heart starts to slow, and you rise out of bed to close it. It is an old house, right? Surely some shifting floorboards or creaking of the structure caused the sound. Must've forgotten to shut the door, too. You chided yourself for getting so worked up over the noise. Fears soothed, you climbed back into bed and dozed off.

"Not so much water," warned Lyuba as you went to lift the mop out of the bucket. You quickly wrung the mophead out a bit more before starting on the tiled floor. You and Lyuba cleaned one of the guest bathrooms mostly in silence, only interrupted when she caught a mistake you were making. You turn to see Lyuba's snowy white bun bobbing in time with her careful movements. The older woman was only going to stay to teach you until the end of the week before she embarked on her retirement. You were at first shocked to find she was the only maid for the sprawling estate, but you quickly realized why.

This place is a fucking ghost town.

It had been three days since your arrival, but you had only glimpsed the owner of this place a handful of times. He was the only actual resident, not counting the help. Oliver Quick was his name, according to Duncan. You were debating whether to ask Lyuba more or let the mystery about the man of the house linger.

Curiosity won.

"Lyuba," you started cautiously, "what is the owner like?" You notice her movement halt with your question.

"Why?" Her response comes almost as an accusation. She turns fully to face you, and her face searches yours carefully.

"Oh, I just was wondering because I've hardly seen him," you reply, unsure of how to respond.

Lyuba shuffles close to you until you are nearly touching. She gently grabs your wrist. "Strange. Be careful, girl," she whispers in a gentle tone. "I worked for the family before him," she continues, hushed and serious as the grave, "and then he swoops in and inherits that place." She drops your wrist and stares into your eyes intently. "Practically a stranger when he-"

"Hello." You and Lyuba jump as you see a man leaning against the doorframe.

"H-hi," you stutter, taken by surprise. His eyes meet yours, and you're drawn in by the shocking blueness of them.

"My name is Oliver," he offers, "and you must be Lyuba's replacement?" A small smile makes its way across his face.

"Yes," you breathe out and offer him your name. Your surprise at being interrupted fades, and you finally take him in. He wears a fine button-down shirt and slacks, his hair combed back without a single strand out of place. You suddenly feel shabby in your black uniform dress and messy hair. You flick your wet hands behind your back to try and appear more together. His unnerving gaze has you self-conscious.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm sure Lyuba has taught you all you need to know." His eyes dart to her briefly but soon return to you. He stretches in the doorway, and you can't help but see the muscles of his arms under the thin cotton of the shirt. "It's nice to have a new face around."

"Ah," you splutter, face hot. "I'm sure it is." You can't help but feel skittish as he watches you return to your work. He'd always made himself scarce before today, so his presence feels overwhelming so near to you.

"We have much to do," cuts in Lyuba, her annoyance clear, "and we need to finish, sir." She turns her back to him and returns to her cleaning.

"Of course," replies Oliver, lifting his hands in a gesture of resignation. "Don't stop on my account. I wouldn't dare interrupt her training." He backs out of the bathroom, but not before throwing you a small wink.

You shake your head and return to your work. Lyuba's hushed condemnation and Oliver's surprise entrance have you cleaning in silence. You could practically taste the animosity between the two of them but get the sense you won't get much more out of Lyuba today. Instead, you pass the day with the gnawing feeling that you're missing something very important.

#saltburn #saltburn 2023 #oliver quick #fanfic #fanfiction #barry keoghan #f!reader x oliver quick #hate yourself

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foxstonejewelry · 1 year

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Coffin wall hanging with maple leaf 🍁 available here.

Instagram | Shop | TikTok

#autumn decor #maple leaf #felt wall hanging #coffin #fall #mine #fox stone #wall hangings

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sarawritestories · 20 days

Text

Still My Beautiful Girl

Azriel X Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been together for some time, and you have since gained some wait in the comfort of your relationship. While lying in bed you make a off handed comment that causes Az to tell you how much he loves you.

Content Warning: reader has a slight negative view of her self that only comes when she's feeling insecure (everyone has those days)

A/N: heavily inspired by a convo my future hubby had with me while cuddling! I also have been feeling

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

You were snuggled against your mate, the cool night autumn breezed into your shared room as you were readying for bed. Azriel's shadows were swirling against your hip as his wings blocked the wind from chilling your skin. His forehead leaned against yours as his beautiful hand was placed against yours, palm to palm.

You took a moment to study your hand against his and furrowed your brow. His shadows swirled up, entwining your wrist to his. You huffed a laugh, "My hand is so tiny."

Azriel gaze met yours, his hazel eyes sparked even under the dim fae lights. He slowly moved his gaze to your hand. He formed a tight line with his mouth as his eyes raked up and down my body, you were only in a t-shirt and underwear but the t-shirt didn't do much to hide your now soft stomach, thicker thighs or the fact that your breast had gone up a few sizes since Azriel and you got together.

The Shadowsinger was quiet, and his lack of words caused a bout of insecurity to wash over you and down the bond. Readying to turn your head and go to sleep, he laced his fingers with yours and whispered, "You talk as though that's the only small thing about you?"

You snort and meet his eyes again, "It is, Az. I have gained weight since we accepted the mating bond. Sometimes, i feel huge. " You had the stretch marks to prove it. And the old portraits hanging on the wall to show how much you said gained. All in the comfort of finding love.

Azriel kissed your nose and gave a small sad smile, "My love, you are not huge. Your personality, perhaps." You laughed, and his eyes sparkled in response. "When I look at you, I still see the female I fell in love with all those years ago." He released your hand only to put his scarred hand over your heart. It began to thump erratically, "She is right in there, and her soul sings to me.

His soft plump lips pressed against yours as his shadows looped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Eliciting a gasp out of you, he slipped his tongue in your mouth, and you moaned. Before you could deepen the kiss he pulled away. "You are still my beautiful girl. That will never change. You just gave me more to love." He kissed you again. His scent of citrus and fresh mist flooded your nose as you melted into his bare chest. He wrapped his arms to you.

Pulling away, you stare into his warm gaze. "I love you, Azriel." You whispered.

"And I love you, Baby." And not long after the two of you drift off into a blissful sleep.

#azriel fluff #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar fluff #acotar fic #azriel x you

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siphvns · 2 months

Text

IN THE ALCOVE

azriel x reader

summary ; reader owns a shop in velaris that azriel happens to stumble upon. he can’t seem to stay away.

a/n ; gonna be so fr with y’all. the ending is not my favorite, but i’ve rewritten it a million times so please let me know what you think!

word count ; 2.2k

warnings; none!

Azriel isn’t sure what called him to this little shop hidden in an alcove somewhere along the Rainbow. He doesn’t remember much of what happened while walking here, only that he was in an entirely foul mood after an unsuccessful scouting in the Autumn Court. But that doesn’t matter to him now.

No, the moment he set foot in the Palace of Thread and Jewels he felt it. Something telling him to go this way, then turn the corner, keep walking, turn again, until finally he stood in front of the door to your shop. His hazel eyes glance to the intricately carved wooden sign hanging above the door.

Velaris Thread & Stitch.

The Shadowsinger peers in the window first. There are mannequins in the window—one in a suit, the other in a dress—and behind those mannequins he spots different articles of clothing hanging on the walls, displayed on the racks placed in the space between.

He enters without thinking any further, taking in just how many pieces there truly are on display. Then he sees you.

Pretty little you, brows furrowed as you lean over the checkout counter with your face near buried in the pages of a leather-bound book. You’re wearing an outfit similar to what Amren would wear—baggy pants and a cropped shirt, true Night court fashion—with your hair falling in your face, one hand barely keeping the locks from your eyes. You don’t seem to care, though. He’s thankful you haven’t noticed him yet, thankful for his stealthiness because he can spend a while longer admiring you.

He stops himself before his staring would turn creepy to fold his hands behind his back and tentatively clearing his throat. “Excuse me,”

Your yelp makes the corner of his lip twitch, but he’s quick to shove the smirk away when you finally meet his gaze.

“Mother above,” you rasp, the hand that previously held the hair from your face is now clutching at your chest.

“I apologize,” Azriel expresses, though his amusement is barely hidden. “I did not mean to startle you.”

You smile and gods he’s not sure what’s taken over him. He breathes in sharply to suppress the beat of his heart.

He watches you take him in. How it takes you barely any time to recognize who he is, ow your spine straightens moments after. “Shadowsinger—how may I help you?

Azriel considers your words, feeling your eyes track his every movement. From the back of his head to his neck, his wings, the length of his powerful body, he feels your gaze take him in when you think he won’t notice. “I,” he pauses. His hesitation is both from your staring and that he really hadn’t thought about what he would say. New tunic? New pants? New…socks? Fuck. “Show me your finest…tunic.”

If you sense his hesitation, you don’t speak on it. Instead, you nod warmly and shut your notebook. “Any color or fabric preferences?”

“Just your finest.”

Humming, you stroll to the back. It’s Azriel’s turn to watch you, eyes tracking the sway of your hips and the swish of your pants. He takes pride in the way you shiver before disappearing behind the curtain.

You emerge from that same curtain minutes later, a pile of tunics layered on top of your arms. “These are my latest additions,” you explain, laying the garments on the counter. “The embroidery on the neckline and tops of the sleeves of this one is a work in progress…I have yet to decide how I want to finalize the design. But you’re free to try them on if you so wish. Dressing rooms are down the hall.”

Azriel inspects the tunic with your embroidery on it first, tilting his head in thought. The design is similar to that of his own Illyrian whorls, and he’s in awe of how well you managed to capture the essence of it, even if you hadn’t realized what you were designing.

He decides to try them all on if only to spend more time in the shop, so he gathers the up with one hand and sets for the dressing room without a word.

He hears you huff a quiet laugh before the rustling of pages follows its melodic sound.

+++

“Shit.”

Trying to stitch the design you and Azriel had come up with for his latest purchase, a custom suit jacket for Starfall in a month, was a nightmare. You’re sure the sharp needle has pricked your skin at least seven times within the past three minutes, and you’re starting to lose your sanity.

Azriel’s come into your shop frequently as of late, each time an excuse rolling off the tip of his tongue the moment you ask how you can help him.

“My leathers need mending.”

“That sweater you made me—I would like to purchase more.”

“I..need a…scarf?”

The last one had you grinning, tilting your head at him while you asked, “Well, do you?”

He shrugged then, asking to see what you had. You spent the next hour going through the scarves you already made, then you went through yarn in the back of the shop, and finally, after another twenty minutes of just chatting, he left. The scarf was forgotten and Azriel never mentioned it again.

Safe to say, he didn’t need the scarf.

You scrub your eyes to rid the memory of that night from your mind. It would do you no good to involve yourself with the Shadowsinger anymore than you already were. He was near royalty to you: a member of the Inner Circle, a close friend of the High Lord…he was something out of your reach. It didn’t matter how much he frequented your shop, nor did it matter how many times your friends told you he clearly was interested. Just because he came to the shop almost every day that doesn’t mean he likes you, right?

Maybe he just needs clothes.

The fabric of his suit jacket under your fingertips does little to distract you. You let Azriel know when he came in a few days ago that his sweaters would be ready today, and that he could come in to pick them up whenever. He nodded in understanding, saying he would be here before he left without another word.

A ring pulls you from your thoughts. The bell on your door—Azriel.

His work-in-progress order almost falls to the floor with how quick you jump up. You place the jacket on the table hastily, hands smoothing the fabric of your pants and brushing your hair from your face to look somewhat presentable.

Your appearance is forgotten when you exit the back room and see those wings, that face.

“You’re early today,” You remark, smiling softly at him as you slide up to the register.

Azriel shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I wasn’t lying when I said I liked those sweaters.”

“Are you sure you aren’t in need of a new wardrobe?” You tease the Illyrian whilst gathering his latest order from under the counter.

Azriel cracks a smile. It’s one that you’ve been blessed with seeing as of late: gentle, relaxed, joyful. His hands drag along a rack of dresses mindlessly as he makes his way to you. “Nothing I own is as beautiful as what you have made for me.”

Your hands falter. “Well then,” you dip your head to try and hide the heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m honored, Shadowsinger.”

He makes it to your counter, leaning against it with his head tipped sideways as he studies you in a way that makes your heart race. “Azriel.” He speaks after a long stretch of silence. “Call me Azriel.”

Again, you dip your head. Is it possible for your cheeks to get any hotter? “Of course.” You mumble, fingers fumbling for a bag to put his sweaters in.

The colors are…very Azriel. One dark blue, one ash grey, and one inky black. His original sweater was dark blue as well, but a shade darker than the one he recently ordered. Shocking.

It’s silent while you package the sweaters, but Azriel’s eyes on you is loud enough. You know if you squirm, he’ll clock the movement and you would rather not have him knowing just how much of an affect he has on you.

After what feels like an eternity, you slide the bag of sweaters over to him.

“Here,” Azriel grunts, pushing you a pouch containing an excessive number of marks. He holds up a hand as you begin to protest. “It’s a thank you on top of my payment.”

You frown, brows knitting together. “That’s—

“Please,” He whispers, eyes pleading with you. “I’ve made some absurd requests since I’ve been coming here, and you’ve fulfilled all of them. It’s a thank you for my…bullshit.”

Your lips slowly stretch into a smile before you’re taking the pouch of marks from him with a hum. “Your bullshit is appreciated.”

“Is that so?” Forearms now resting on the counter, he gives you a lazy smile. You curse him internally for it.

Coughing, you turn from the counter to busy yourself with cleaning. “Yes,” you hum. “You’re a nice change of pace compared to my typical customers.”

You see him nod but he doesn’t say anything, another round of silence stretching on between the two of you. This is something you’ve grown to like. Azriel looks around at your work, you fuss about brushing the dust from racks and the wiping away the smudges on your store front window, and the both of you enjoy each other’s company.

“I’ll be gone for a few weeks.” He says quietly, as if he was hesitant to break the comfortable silence. There’s no explanation to follow it because you already know what he means.

“I see,” you mumble, shuffling back to the front counter. The room seems gloomy now, knowing that you won’t see him every other day disappointing you more than you would ever like to admit. You try to smile at him, but it’s forced and there’s no doubt he notices. “How very boring my job will be without you asking for special projects.”

Azriel gives a hint of a smile, leaning against the counter as he does whenever he’s giving you his full attention. “I have one thing to request of you before I leave.” He cocks his head, inky black hair falling from its haphazard style. Your fingers itch to reach out and brush it back. “If you’re willing, that is.”

“You know I am.” You shrug, trying to give that impression of carelessness that you’ve seen him pull off from time to time.

“Let me take you to dinner.”

“What?” you choke, blinking rapidly. All your disappointment is forgotten for the time being and replaced by a racing heart. “What about your…duties?”

A shake of his head. “Rhysand can come find me if he really needs me.” He gives you that pleading look again, twin to the look he gave you earlier. “A new place on the Sidra just opened. I’ve heard it’s lovely.”

“Oh,” you breathe, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. It feels strange to hear that Azriel, the Night Court’s feared Shadowsinger and spymaster is asking you on… “A date?”

“If you want it to be.”

Folded in your lap are your hands, fingers messing with the fabric of your pants. Azriel leans closer, and it’s harder for you to focus the closer he gets. A date. If your friends were here, they would be screaming at you to say yes. After they all laughed and said, “I told you so!”

Maybe you would wait a bit to tell them. You’re not sure your want to give them the satisfaction yet.

You clear your throat, meeting his gaze. “I…that would be nice.”

Azriel smiles brighter than you’ve ever seen, straightening to his full height. “Alright. I’ll pick you up tomorrow after sundown?”

“Sure,” you grin. “Don’t be late.”

“I would never,” he says softly, giving you one last smile before he turns to the door.

He barely makes it our of view before you’re running to the back so no one could see you squeal and dance in a circle.

+++

Azriel shoots to the skies after rounding the corner, thanking the Mother that you said yes.

He’d told no one, but Nesta was able to spot his odd behavior with ease. She pestered him weeks ago about it, saying he was acting like a “lovesick fool”. He spent the night talking about you, about how many random clothing items he’s gotten rid of just to replace with your pieces. She’d laughed so hard that he nearly threw himself out the window.

“So, you aren’t just acting like a lovesick fool, you are a lovesick fool.”

He’d rolled his eyes and wrapped up their conversation quickly, claiming he had a headache. Her knowing scoff followed him all the way back to his room. It was the same scoff she gave whenever he came back from his visits without asking you to dinner.

Nesta would be pleased to hear that he did, in fact, ask you to dinner this time. And you said yes.

Azriel lands on the balcony of the House of Wind, making his way into Nesta’s home with a grin. She’s sitting in a cushy chair next to the window, a book in her hand that she snaps shut as soon as she spots the look on Azriel’s face.

“Well?” she asks, humor lacing the single word.

Azriel flops into the chair across from her and he launches into the story.

Who knew that little alcove would lead him to his mate?

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

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