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bxm-1012 · 4 months

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First Winter Solstice

Summary - Your first Winter Solstice celebration as mates with Azriel, featuring our favorite Inner Circle.

Warnings - Implied/Referenced Sex

1.2 Words

The first thing that sought to pull you from your slumber was the hint of the sun rising through the small crack in the shades. You had been invited by Rhys to also spend the night in the cabin with Azriel. The light from the sun an ever-widening beam of light across the floor. You cracked an eye open but felt too comfortable wrapped in the warmth of your mate to care to move. You rolled over to see Azriel asleep one arm loosely draped over your hip. Not wanting to leave the comfort of his presence you snuggled up against the shadow singer, his scent intoxicating.

You drifted back to sleep only to be awoke soon after to the sound of Feyre laughing. You proceeded to shut your eyes, drifting to a place somewhere between consciousness and sleep, an almost trance.

The third time you were pulled to completely consciousness you wouldn’t be falling back asleep. It began with a trail of kisses up your leg, staring from your ankle. Azriel’s breath tickled the inside of your leg, every time his lips met skin. You let out a breathy laugh. Az’s mouth reached ever closer to the very spot between your legs, where, if he reached it, you would simply melt into the sheets with pleasure. “Az,” you hissed in his direction as you lifted your head slightly. A look on your face saying Rhysand and Feyre are here too.

The shadowsinger paused for only a moment to give you a small smirk. He was sliding the edge of your nightgown up your legs when there was a knock at the bedroom door.

“That sex better be worth it!” Cassian called from the other side. “I’d hate for you to miss another year of victory!”

You weren’t sure if Cass’s interruption was good or bad. For on, you didn’t need Rhys pounding on the door telling you and Azriel to keep it down. On the other hand, Azriel’s mouth made your brain scramble in unimaginable ways, in ways you missed when his lips parted from your skin after Cassian made his loud announcement to the door. It was indescribably frustrating.

You let out something between a laugh and a huff when your mate hastily lifted your nightgown to press his lips against the skin of your hip , then crawl so he was hovering over you. Az pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “I will be back,” he promised you before climbing out of the bed and pulling the attire he deemed necessary for the annual snowball between himself, Rhys, and Cass.

He rushed out of the room, throwing the door open–-and for a brief moment you could see the smug look on Cassian’s face before the door was shut. You let your head fall back against the pillow, a faint smile across your lips.

A few minutes later you decided to get up, knowing that Feyre was present in the cabin as well. You left your nightgown on, deciding you were comfortable. You pulled on a sweater over the nightgown before going into the main space where Feyre was sitting on the leather sofa. In front of her sat two tea cups and a teapot with freshly prepared tea. You sat down pouring yourself some of the warm liquid before leaning back against the couch. The tea was a welcome presence in compared to the colder weather.

You looked outside to see your mate get pummeled by a snowball from his High Lord. You turned your attention to Feyre who was also looking outside.

“How does it fell?” Feyre asked you. “To be here as his mate?”

It was a funny question because you’d spent so many evenings of Winter Solstices in the cabin with Rhysand and his Inner Circle. The first year you were invited as a dear friend of Azriel. A year later the High Lord of the Night Court had assigned you as an emissary to multiple other places, making you an official member of his Inner Circle. From then on you were at the cabin for each Winter Solstice.

This was no different because a few months ago you and Azriel had realized the Cauldron chose each of you to be the other’s mate. You both accepted it quickly, though the shadowsinger had early reservations about being good enough for you.

So this wasn’t your first year at the cabin, but it was the first time you woke up on the Winter Solstice next to your mate to celebrate the sun anew. Being a dear friend of Feyre you had no issue with her telling her the whole truth of the matter. You spent a large amount of time in discussion with her, your cups of tea in hand as Rhys, Az, and Cass had their snowball fight.

Soon enough they came back inside. Azriel rushed to his kick his boots off before approaching you with a victorious smile. You let out a yelp when the shadowsinger came and swept you up in his still cold arms. You knew he won, and you knew he wasn’t going to let either of his brothersforget.

“How about you and I take a bath? Warm up?” You asked Azriel, still in his arms.

There was no verbal response from your mate, instead he rushed you towards the bathing room.

“You’re supposed to clean up, not get dirtier!” Cassian shouted after you.

You and your mate ignored him and got dirtier before cleaning up. Neither of you were cold after that. When you got back the three others, at some point, also washed up while you and Azriel snuggled up.

“Congratulations on your victory,” you said with a grin, your bodies molded together on the sofa.

“Didn’t stop thinking about you the whole time,” Azriel muttered before peppering a few small kisses to your shoulder.

You let out a soft laugh in response. “Glad I’m such a good luck charm.”

Azriel only smiled, pressing his lips to your temple.

The sun quickly disappeared leaving you, Azriel, Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian to admire the night sky of Velaris for a while after eating dinner.

You and the court spymaster stood together in the snow. He stood behind you, his arms encircling your middle, his nose buried in your hair, near your ear. The stars were beautifully, like someone covered their hands in shiny water and flicked their hands about, small sprits of water sticking to the sky above.

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he whispered to you.

“Happy Winter Solstice,” you said back with a smile.

When the rest of the Inner Circle arrived you all exchanged gifts. You received mostly books from your family with the exception of a scarf and a necklace from Azriel. He told you that he got it because it reminded him of your eyes.

You blushed slightly in response. Once each gift was given people began their exits to leave Feyre and Rhysand to have the cabin for themselves. You and Azriel were the last to leave. He swept you up in his arms, your head resting against his chest, as he flew to your shared room, to your awaiting bed where you both spent the rest of the evening.

#acotar #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #implied/referenced sex #fluff #winter solstice #feyre x rhysand #cassian

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leupagus · 9 months

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Still working on the "No Seriously, If Crowley and Aziraphale Ever Did Have Sex, They'd Have So Many Weird Conversations About It First" fic

"You already have a penis?" Aziraphale demanded, his hands on his hips. "Since when?"

Crowley tried to recall. "Turn of the nineteenth, I think?" he ventured. There'd been a fountain, and a lot of wine, and Jane challenging him to see which of them could hit the fish statue in the middle.* Afterwards he'd kept it — it was fun, being able to take a piss if you felt like it. Not to mention you could stir up a lot of trouble in public toilets if you were in a mood.**

"Really?" Aziraphale looked halfway between surprised and intrigued. "Don't you find it a bit — floppy?"

"Eh, a bit," Crowley admitted. "But they do amazing things with underpants these days."

Aziraphale laughed, the startled hiccough he gave sometimes when he wasn't quite ready to be out of his sulk. It was one of Crowley's favorite noises. "Very well," he said, adjusting his waistcoat. "Let's have a look."

"What? No," said Crowley. He'd been looking forward to showing off his cock at some point, but Aziraphale was eyeing him like the Queen about to inspect the troops.

"Why not?" Aziraphale whinged, his lower lip puckering dangerously near a pout. "We're going to have to take our clothes off when we have sex. Unless — actually, I think that's on the list of kinks, you know, sex with your clothes on, but it seems terribly awkward, not to mention you'd have to get everything cleaned afterward. Although I do have a rather good 'dry cleaner,'" he made the inverted commas with his fingers and everything, "Who's an absolute miracle worker." He paused. "Well, not a real one. At any rate, come along." And he gestured at Crowley's crotch.

Crowley, who'd had millennia of practice with Aziraphale's careening monologues, was still halfway through unbuckling his belt before his brain caught up. "I'm not pulling my cock out in the middle of your bookshop," he said — with absolutely perfect timing, since Muriel chose that moment to come bustling in.

They stood frozen for a moment, blinking at both of them as they clutched at the doorframe. "I think I, erm, heard a… noise?" They smiled, and backed out slowly. "I should go. And check, on the noise, because noises are sometimes indicators of—" Whatever else they were saying was lost with the slamming of the door.

"Small mercies," Aziraphale huffed, and wriggled his fingers; the sign on the door flipped to "CLOSED" and the door locked with a pointed flourish. "Now then!"

*Neither of them had, and it had nearly gotten them arrested, all the moreso since they'd been in Spain at the time.

**With or without an anus.

#good omens fic #ficcage of interest #crowley's musings about the time he considered getting snake penises #(yes snakes have two dicks)#are definitely going to be referenced #so many wonderful sexy fics about these guys but what *I* want to bring #is the Weird Energy #ineffable motherfuckers #good grade in sex fic

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snarkspawn · 11 months

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they're gossiping (flirting) on the clock

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche fanart #kenbig #big kinnporsche #ken kinnporsche #nodt nutthasid #perth nakhun #bl tag #userpharawee #yea I referenced that one leyendecker ad about safe sex for this lmao

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jakuwais · 9 months

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Please reach out to your local hitojaku fan because it’s a good chance we are not well

#I AM!!!! GOING TO KILL MYSELF!!!!!!#OHHHHH MEU DIOS #MEIN GOTT #DIOS MIO!!!!!!#IM SSO TIRED FROM THE ADRENALINE RUSH THEY GAVE ME #HHGHDHGFHGHHRGRGRGRGHT SEX NOW #oh yea and the pose is semi referenced from…… a certain Other series……….. iykyk….. being vague bc its a spoiler lmao #hypmic #hypnosis mic #hitoya amaguni #jakurai jinguji #hitojaku #my art

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jomiddlemarch · 1 month

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let me lay down beside you

“Mmm, darlin’, you feel so good…”

Shit.

You’d thought the one silver lining of living through a zombie apocalypse might be that you’d never have to have another awkward, it’s-totally-me-it’s-not-you conversation with a man about why there was basically no chance he could make you come, including the I-really-don’t-want-you-to-get-carpal-tunnel-or-strain-your-TMJ-trying for those guys savvy enough not to have tried the You-just-haven’t-had-my-magic-dick argument.

All the crunchy, New Age guys who were going to whip up an Ayurvedic smoothie with exact the right combo of herbs and ripe mango and enough turmeric to dye the sea gold had gone out in the first wave. Nearly all the herbs and certainly the mango and turmeric weren’t available in the continental US.

You were supposed to get something from the universe in exchange for surviving into this new world, a compensation that would make you not regret the choice to dump out all the Ambien your roommate had just gotten filled before she never came home instead of downing it in a nice cup of cocoa and then giving yourself a soft, slow dreaming death.

No such luck.

“Joel, hang on,” you said, gritting the words out as he did something rather lovely to the side of your neck, one big hand cradling the back of your head. You drew in a breath, prepared to have to repeat yourself, because even if you weren’t getting there, he certainly seemed well on his way.

He stopped and pulled back. His hair, greying and not just at the temples, was mussed and there was a little bit of hazy desire left in his dark eyes, but he’d made it by paying very close attention and that included you.

“Too fast? I can slow down, slow as you like, darlin’,” he said.

“That’s not it,” you said, hating this part. Hating all of it, what was happening and what would happen, leading up to when he walked out the door. Joel was a nice man. He probably would take any cheap shots or do much beyond shrugging those broad shoulders of his. “It’s not too fast—”

“Too slow? Or is that somethin’ you don’t like?”

His lips on your throat, the roughness of his beard against the delicate skin over your carotid, yeah, you liked it. If only liking that and his hands on you was enough…

You were quiet, thinking about how you were going to tell him. Maybe there was a way where you really could stay friends. Where there’d still be nights he took out his guitar and sang Johnny Cash and Patsy Cline and you sang along, the firelight around you both, gold and shadow.

“Someone hurt you?” he asked, being careful. You both knew what he meant and understood how he was letting you be the one to decide how to say it. You both remembered what it was like early on and no one in Jackson was ever required to tell what had happened before they got there. You chose what you brought with you into the community, what parts of your past you’d leave behind.

“No, nothing like that,” you said. You could see the relief in his eyes, the way his mouth turned gentle.

“You wanna boss me around? I don’t have a problem taking instruction,” he said.

“Wouldn’t make any difference,” you remarked before you could think twice about it. He narrowed his eyes and you almost reached out to touch his jaw or his wrist, your right hand fluttering before you made a fist.

“No?”

“You can’t make me come,” you blurted out. “I don’t want you to waste your time—”

“Seems to me I decide what my time’s worth,” he said.

“I meant, you don’t have to do a whole song and dance,” you said.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it,” he said. “Not a huge fan of musicals.”

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“Frankly, darlin’, I don’t think I do. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on? I’m not going anywhere unless you kick me out,” he said.

“You’ll go,” you said. Lying was essential to living After, but not lying to yourself. That was a death sentence.

“When you tell me to. Not before,” he said, settling back against the couch.

“I can’t—I don’t come, fucking,” you said.

“That part I got,” he said. In some miracle, he didn’t start the usual litany, asking questions about position or skill, beginning every iteration What about…“How d’you do, y’know, flying solo?”

“Once in a blue moon,” you said. Though probably less often than that. You shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

“Before, probably could’ve tried a vibrator. One of those rabbits maybe. Still find them scavenging, but the batteries are all dead and kind of hard to ask Maria for some juice to get off,” Joel said, so practically and so without the least iota of irritation you were startled into a laugh. He took your hand in his, held it lightly.

“I don’t want to go but I don’t want you to feel bad,” he said. “Want you to feel good, that’s the whole goal.”

“You say that, but everyone wants to come. They want to get the other person off. I don’t want to fake it, to make you happy,” you said.

“I’ve had over forty years to fuck, darlin’,” he said. “I want to be close to you, that’s all. However you want it, long as it’s real. You want me to try shit that didn’t work before, I’ll try it. You have some idea you want to give a whirl, fine by me. I’ll go down on you or use my hands or pretend I’m fucking Captain Kangaroo and you’re Lady Aberlin if that’s something you’re interested in. And if you want to lie in bed or on the couch in sweats and that’s all, that all I want,” he said.

“Lady Aberlin was on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood,” you said. This was not a conversation you could have imagined happening in any universe, with or without zombies, but Joel didn’t seem to mind.

“Okay,” he said.

“You’ll get frustrated,” you said. You thought it would come out like a warning, but it sounded like you were floating an idea, waiting for him to tell you that you were wrong.

“There some rule I can’t jack off on my own? Or in your general vicinity?” he asked.

“No, it’s not like that,” you said. You couldn’t recall a man ever asking that or proposing anything similar. It was erotic, that was undeniable, that desire coupled with a total lack of demand—he hadn’t said anything about coming on your breasts or your belly and he would have, if that’s what he imagined. Parallel play, the old child development phrase from that college psych class you’d taken sophomore year, a thousand years ago when no one, even you, had ever thought to call you frigid bitch, the guys at college too self-absorbed to notice whether or not you climaxed.

“Doesn’t gross you out?”

“No. It’s hot. It’s not that I’m not interested in sex, making you come. Just hard for me to get all the way,” you said.

“That’s not all the way, you coming, screamin’ my name, headboard thumpin’ on the wall, wakin’ up the neighbors,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles open-mouthed. “All the way’s feelin’ safe, feelin’ like you can ask for whatever you want, say no to whatever you want. Being there in the morning, your head on my chest, hand on my heart.”

“You’re not going to try and convince me you’ve got some special move that’s going to blow my mind?” you said.

“If I had one, probably throw my back out tryin’ it now,” he chuckled. “I like the way you taste. I like the way you sing under your breath when I play ‘Annie’s Song.’ I like the way you argue and how your ass feels against my cock when you’re the little spoon and and how it looks when you drag me out dance over at Tina’s. If we figure something out one of these days, yeah, that’ll be fine. And if this is what we have, it’s plenty for me. I wanna give you anything you want, that’s all.”

“Anything I want?” you said.

“Everything, darlin’,” he answered. “What d’you want right now?”

“I liked what you were doing before,” you said.

“What we were doing,” he corrected, but without any scolding. It was an invitation, one you had no intention of refusing.

“Let’s do that,” you said. “But with less clothes.”

“Yeah?” he said.

“Yeah,” you answered. “Maybe I do want to boss you around. Take your shirt off.”

“Yes’m,” he said and the shiver that went through you was that hint of ma’am and the revelation of his bare chest and the gleam in his dark eyes.

Maybe it was a blue moon.

And if it wasn’t, he’d still be here, holding you in his arms.

@goodwithcheese I took you up on your suggestion to write something for one of your anons who was hoping for a fic with an anorgasmic f!reader and a soft Pedro character...

#joel miller #tlou fanfic #f!reader #joel/f!reader #intimacy #talking about sex #one-shot #references to Gen X pop culture #no age-gap #pedro pascal fanfic #ellie is off-screen and not referenced in this #jackson au #going for ginger spice level: sweet and hot

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everythingacotarbxm1012 · 4 months