#crescent city | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

danikamariewrites · 9 hours

Note

I have a Flynn request! There definitely aren’t enough out there for our crescent city males. Lol reader is out with friends at a bar and really drunk. She gets separated from her friends and some guy is really creeping her out and won’t leave her alone. She texts/calls Flynn to come get her.

My First Call

Tristan Flynn x reader

A/n: I HAVE FINALY FINISHED CC3 and Flynn absolutely deserves love bc it seems like he’s the only single Pringle left I volunteer as tribute

Warnings: drunk reader, aggressive behavior (not the frat pack), and not proof read sorry

Wobbling through the club on number limbs you were jostled by the crowd of swaying bodies. Your mouth was dry but you were craving another fruity-vodka cocktail. As you made your way back to the table your friends were currently inhabiting this evening.

Only two of them were left. The other three having bailed earlier thanks to their work schedules. Who even makes their employees come in on a Friday for a holiday weekend? A crime honestly.

A male had joined the table, too busy flirting with Marcy to notice your presence. Taylor, your other friend, had noticed you cautiously walking back. “Hey,” she says enthusiastically with a small giggle at your drunken demeanor. You giggle back, falling into her arms.

“I want another drink.” Your words coming out as one long sound. Taylor just laughed in response. “I think you need to go home.” You groan at the blonde before remembering your bestest friends are waiting at home. The guys were probably still up. Either playing video games or having a house party in honor of the long weekend.

“Ok. Marcy! Come on.” Taylor commanded. Marcy gave the male one last kiss on the cheek with a look that promised she’d call him. She never called though. She just liked attention and free drinks. What pretty girl doesn’t though?

Letting out a sigh you move from Taylor’s protective grasp. Turning your back on your friends you start to move toward the exit. At least what you think is the exit. The crowd is definitely thinning out. Pushing open a door with peeling paint and rusty hinges you find yourself in a dimly lit alley. At either end is a bustling main street of Lunathion.

“Fuck,” you mutter. Looking from side to side you can’t remember which end of the alley the club entrance would be. “Fuck.” You say a little louder.

Letting out a sigh you start walking to the left, hoping to find your friends. Coming out on the sidewalk you notice a fancy restaurant and a closed cafe. Some business entrances, a bank, then the fanciest hotel in the city. The warm lights of the Regent of Lunathion looked so inviting. Plus they have comfy armchairs to wait in.

You start heading down the street in the direction of the regent. Now that you’re out in the chilly night air and not in the dark, crowded club consuming alcohol your body starts to ache. You hug your arms to your chest, cursing yourself for not bringing a sweater. Your chunky platform heels start to feel heavy with every step you take. The blisters starting to form on the back of your ankles and toes have you stepping gingerly.

Heavy footsteps quickly approach that have you tensing. Hoping it’s just someone on a late night run that will pass you. You move over slightly to not just be in the middle of the sidewalk. Runners in this city get pissy about that.

But it’s not a runner. No, something worse. A male in dark jeans and hoodie falls into pace beside you. “Hey,” he starts, “what’s a pretty lady like you doin’ wanderin’ the city alone?” You roll your eyes, not caring about the consequences. You wouldn’t have been able to hold the annoyed expression back anyway. “I’m not. I’m with my friends.”

The male looked around the almost empty street. “Really? Because I don’t see them.” “Yup.” You reply dryly. Urd, can’t males take a hint these days? “I’m meeting them.” A lie you were sure he saw through but didn’t care. You would say anything to get him away from you. “Well what bar are you going to? I know a short cut,” he says seductively, trying to grab for your arm.

You move quicker than the both of you expect. The situation sobering you up. You looked at him with bewildered eyes. “No!” You scream at the top of your lungs. Passersby staring for a moment before looking away and walking a little faster. Cowards.

Before the male can say anything you book it down the rest of the way to the Regent. The doorman, an elderly human man, gives you a curious look. Your words stick to the tip of your tongue. Not knowing how to form your plea for help as the alcohol still rushes through your system.

You look back down the street. The male looking pissed as he storms up to you. The doorman notices, an angry look now on his kind face. “Head inside miss. And please make yourself at home until your ride is here.” You rush past him with a grateful look. Pulling out your phone, ignoring the texts from your friends, you immediately go to Flynn’s contact and pressing the call button.

he answers in one ring. “Hey sweetheart,” his smooth voice relaxing you as you sink into the plush armchair. “Flynn, can you come get me. I’m a little lost.” From his sharp inhale you could tell he was trying to hide his laugh. “I’m already on my way. Taylor called me five minutes ago.” You let out a sigh of relief. “Wait, how do you know where I am?” “I have your location, sweetheart.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

Urd you love that smile. So suave but genuine. “Only for you,” he’d say with a wink that always made you blush like crazy. It was no secret you have a crush on the lordling. And Ruhn would argue that Flynn had a bigger one on you. Why neither of you had made a move yet was beyond everyone.

The male walked past the window of the lobby staring daggers at you. Your eyes went wide as you remembered why you were in the hotel lobby. “Can you hurry? There was a guy following me and I just wanna go home.” The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

Flynn gripped the steering wheel so hard his tanned knuckles turned white. “I’m one minute away.” He stepped on the gas, just barely making the light before it turned red. He kept talking to you as he flew down the street. Telling you everything he saw before pulling up to the Regent.

Throwing the car in park, Flynn throws his door open. Passing the doorman he nodded at Flynn with a small smile. “She’s to the left.” “Thank you.”

Seeing you curled up in the chair clutching your phone like it was a life line made hims heart clench. You looked like a lost child. Flynn knelt in front of you taking your hand in his. “Hey sweetheart,” he coos, “ready to go?” It took you a moment to realize who was in front of you. Once it clicked you smiled widely at Flynn.

“Hey,” you drawl. Your exhaustion catching up with you. Flynn smiled back you. Overjoyed to see you unharmed. “Yeah let’s get outta here.” He stands to help you up but you just give Flynn a pout and doe eyes. “Will you carry me? My shoes hurt.” “Of course.”

He knelt back down to unbuckle your ridiculous shoes, holding them in one hand while scooping you to his chest with his other arm. Letting out a deep sigh you lazily wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, snuggling into his neck.

Flynn’s heart soared. He held you tighter, basking in your warmth and scent. Though he could smell the alcohol, that strawberry and honey scent he loves so much is still prominent to him. “I got you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Gently placing you in the passenger seat and bucking you in Flynn breathed a sigh of relief. You were safe. Climbing in the car himself he quickly sends a text to Taylor letting her know you’re fine. The drive home seemed long but he didn’t care. Anything to spend time with you.

Your hand grasps his resting on the gear shift. You look at him, your lids heavy. Finally pulling up to the house Flynn looks down at you. “Thank you for getting me. My knight in shining armor.” Flynn blushes as he squeezes your hand. He brings your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses across your knuckles. “I’ll always come get you. No matter where you are, sweetheart.” You give him a tired smile before your eyes fully close.

Carrying you inside, Flynn tucks you in making sure to take out your hair clips. He even takes your makeup off, gently scrubbing at your face. Just as he sets a glass of water down and a tonic for your headache in the morning, you stir slightly. Flynn froze as he saw you squinting at him. “Will you stay? Please?” You mumble.

“Sure, sweetheart.” You turn to face the side of the bed Flynn makes himself comfortable. He sits on top of the covers, leaning against the propped up pillows. Once he sits you instantly fall back to sleep knowing your safe.

#crescent city #crescent city fanfic #crescent city fluff #crescent city x reader #crescent city fanfiction #crescent city x you #crescent city house of earth and blood #crescent city flynn #tristan flynn x you #tristan flynn x reader #tristan flynn #crescent city tristan flynn #Tristan Flynn fanfic #Tristan Flynn fic #Tristan Flynn fluff

29 notes · View notes

oliviajdjarin · 11 months

Text

Azriel Shadowsinger: Sex Habits

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Summary: Headcanons (more like a bunch of imagines) about how Az treats his mate in the bedroom and otherwise.

Warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut, smuuuuuuut. Azriel is a switch, so is reader, swearing, lord of bloodshed cameo. This is pretty fucking dirty.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Thank you @cherryjain17 for this amazing, inspiring request. I hope I did it justice.

SJM Masterlist

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(pic from pinterest)

Morning

-I am of the opinion that Azriel fucks you differently depending upon the time of day.

-Let's start with morning, shall we?

-Azriel is a scheduled, reliable male. Training in the morning, always, no matter the night he had before. He owed it to his High Lord to always be ready for a fight - physically, and mentally. His constant, consistent training was how he maintained that.

-However, what Rhys didn't know about what he partook in before training wouldn't hurt him.

-When Az would wake in the morning next to your - usually naked - sleeping, curled, warm body, hair sprayed across the pillows, scent unique to you filling his lungs, face painted in pure elation and serenity...

-...yeah, he would get a little hard.

-The best was when you would wake up with him, eyes dull with sleep, but their color still bright. A small, languid smile on your face. He couldn't help but touch you in that moment, his body begging him to satisfy every sense he had with the feeling of you.

-He would begin with your face, dragging the knuckle of his pointer finger across your cheekbone. Opening his palm to feel the entirety of your cheek. Tracing down the column of your throat with his pointer finger. Painting across your collarbone with every digit. Cupping your breasts delicately, fondling them, massaging them. Dragging fingers down the center of your stomach, heating up every inch of it before finally...

-...yeah, I think we get it.

-The interesting thing about sex in the morning with Azriel is that, although it begins slow, he goes fucking fast in the mornings. Pounding his fingers into you over and over again, your cum dripping down his fingers and wrist. When he finally tastes you, it's a feast. Sloppy and wet and messy and you're groaning and he's smiling so fucking big. He gets you right on the edge of euphoria before pulling back and pressing a quick kiss to your lips and turning you around, face pressed against your soft pillow, and plunging himself inside of you without a drop of mercy.

-(All of this happens within minutes because, like I said, he's got a schedule to keep).

-As he ravages you, pumping in and out and in and out faster than your brain can process, he fucking sweats. It drips down his back, down his face, across his lips, down his chest, everywhere. Your still drowsy body loves when you scrape your nails down it, coating your palms with it and fucking up his previously clean, fluffed hair with it.

-The finest, perfect part about his sex in the morning is that, even though it's rough, quick, rabid, he holds you close the entire time. He cradles your head in his forearms, litters your spine in passionate, lingering kisses, holds your hips like a cracking sculpture, caresses your scalp, thighs, and lower back.

-It is a paradox; rough yet gentle, greedy yet giving, horrid yet beautiful, quick yet endless, and hateful, yet some of the most loved you ever feel by him.

-When he finishes, and you finish multiple times, he departs you with only a kiss, and rushes down the stairs to make it in just enough time for Cassian to not suspect anything.

-He gives you smirks and winks all day anyway, much to your chagrin.

Afternoon

-Around mid to late afternoon is when Azriel tends to get an itch.

-An itch to step away from it all: his desk, his tasks, his responsibilities.

-Sometimes this itch can be scratched by something simple: a walk around Velaris, or a flight, a cup of cocoa, or even a quick nap.

-Other times, however, this metaphorical itch can only be scratched by the exclusive, spectacular taste of his mate.

-And luckily for you, Azriel is the fucking king of quickies.

-He finds you within minutes, utilizing the convenient bond cemented in his very bones, and conveys his desires with only a look.

-Some days, you decline. Too busy with work, too tired from a night previous, or just plainly not in the mood.

-On these days, Azriel understands. He leaves you respectfully, always with a short kiss and a silent promise of "later" permeating in the air.

-On the days where you do accept, however, is when Azriel truly lights on fire.

-The caveat to quickies with Azriel, however, is that he cannot risk any...leakage onto his clothing. Whether that be cum, spit, or otherwise.

-Frankly, you couldn't either. The both of you took your jobs and professionalism too seriously.

-Which is what makes these quickies so fucking good.

-He kisses you, hard, and lifts you under your ass against his waist to press you against a nearby wall, covering the both of you in shadow. He kisses you until your head spins before unzipping whatever top you have on, and claiming the shit out of your breasts.

-Gods how he loves your breasts.

-He kisses and licks, nibbles and bites, marks and marks and marks you all over your chest and ribcage, whispering words dripping in honey.

-"All mine, these are all mine, aren't they?"

-"Never going to get enough of these - enough of you."

-"I can hear your heart, baby. Need a break?"

-"Fuck you," you respond, your matching smiles and shining eyes giving away your infectious joy.

-He kisses your tits long enough to make your mouth go dry from hanging open so long, before finally making his way up to your throat, whispering "mine" along the column.

-Never leaving a mark.

-He kisses around your pulse, and sometimes you kiss around his as well, before finally recolliding his mouth with your own, and kissing you like a male starved. Mapping you like a cartographer exploding a new land. Rejoicing in the mix of your skin and your mouth on his tongue like a male on his knees in prayer.

-You would think just kisses from him wouldn't count as a quickie, but with how thoroughly and religiously and hungrily he does, you come close to release every time.

-The both of you counted it.

-On days when his cartography becomes too much to bare, or the ego in your chest roars at the thought of him getting you so close to release by just his kisses, your fingers finagle their way to the tent growing in his pants, and palm him through the leather.

-Azriel felt that, as long as your mouth was not on him, he could control himself. The bar of professionalism would be met, and the risk of leakage would be next to none.

-But you have never been one not to test a theory, especially in the name of science.

-You palm him so wretchedly ferociously and savagely that you can practically sketch the exact curve, vein, and girth of his bulge. That's how hard he gets through his pants. You wonder if there is any blood left for his brain.

-You even push him away from you and lick him through the leather, never enough to stain his pants, but enough for him to feel the heat of your tongue cupping his balls and dragging across his dick.

-Still, he never comes, not once; however, that didn't mean he didn't retaliate.

-On days when you'd suck him off this way, he strikes back like a true Illyrian warrior.

-Unforgiving, and calculated.

-He guides you away from him, and does the exact same thing to you.

-Fingers you through your pants, pressing the fabric so taught against your clit you thought you would explode, before pulling his hand away, and replacing it with his mouth. Licking your folds through the fabric, nudging your clit with his nose, devouring and consuming you through the protection of one tiny piece of fabric.

-The mix of heat and fabric is so delicious that, every time, he leaves you near tears.

-He pulls away from you slowly, makes sure you can stand on two feet, and with one last kiss to your cheek, he backs away from you.

-"Later," he whispers, one of his shadows drying the tears staining your hot cheeks. "I want more of you later. I want more of you always."

-You always somehow return to the task you were attempting to accomplish previously, mind puddy, hands shaking, and breasts deliciously sore.

Night

-So yes, Azriel likes to fuck you fast. Leave you wanting more. Drooling for him. Pooling on the floor. Left on shaking knees. Departing from you with only a few words.

-But his favorite, most beloved way to fuck you is to make love to you. Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you love.

-And that is how he does it at nighttime.

-But, I am getting ahead of myself.

-After long days of meetings, missions, planning, or even just boring paperwork, there is nothing he adores more than a quiet, serene dinner with you. He enjoys cooking the meal himself, usually making something one of you has mentioned having a recent craving for, and absolutely beaming when you finally walk through the door.

-You join him in the kitchen, and immediately wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He holds you close, breathing in the products in your hair, and kissing the top of your head.

-"How was your day?" you ask him.

-He's honest. Somedays he says "good," somedays he says "okay," and somedays he just sighs.

-You don't usually ask him to elaborate on those days unless you get the feeling that he wants to, but no matter what, he always asks you the question back.

-You are always honest with him too.

-After that, he finishes off dinner, and the two of you eat. Some nights it's full of conversations, sometimes superficial, like how the weather has been, but sometimes they're deep. Deep enough that sometimes he wonders if your words are able to reach inside of his brain and stroke it, hitting it exactly where he needs to be challenged, praised, or questioned.

-It was unreal every time, how well you knew him.

-Other nights, however, were coated in comfortable silence. Maybe you were both too tired to talk, or too content, or couldn't think of much to say. He never minded. If there was anything he could appreciate, it was happy, wonderful, comfortable silence. It was a sign that his day had come to an end, he had kept his Court and his people safe, and he had done at least something right.

-And what better way to bask in the safety of silence than with the person who knows you better than anyone, and the person you have more love for than stars in the sky.

-After the two of you have full stomachs, he always leads you to your shared bedroom by his arm, and pushes your chair in for you.

-Your face heats every time. Without fail.

-So does his.

-He leads you to the bedroom and kisses you once, twice, three times, before departing to take care of the dishes. He pictures how you make the mundane, simple task of getting ready for bed so godsdamn beautiful: your face cleaned, your hair refreshed, your breath newly minted, and your shoulders and jaw relaxed. A timeless beauty. A vulnerable sight, only for him.

-He finishes up and heads back to you, hands clean and soul at ease. He finds you already in bed; maybe reading, maybe writing, maybe already closing your eyes.

-He gets ready for bed himself, making sure his teeth and tongue are brushed thoroughly.

-Some nights, that is it. He joins you in bed and you drift off together, holding each other close at the beginning of the night, and closer in the morning. Smiles on your faces. Soft snores escaping you. Bodies breathing in sync.

-But not most nights.

-Most nights, after him joining you in bed, you pull him in, and kiss him so softly he barely feels it.

-But it's there.

-"Touch me, Azriel," you whisper, "and let me touch you."

-And he lets you.

-The kisses start soft, just lips on lips, before your tongue breaks his lips apart, and your bodies begin to warm up. Either he lays you down on your back or you push him down, either way, one of you gets on top of the other, and the two of you begin to do nothing less than venerate each other.

-So much kissing, so much feeling each other up and down; down each other's backs, across each other's faces, through each other's hair, across each other's stomachs, and so much breathing and groaning against each other's skin.

-This is all before a scrap of clothing comes off.

-When it does, however, Azriel undresses you like a nurse would undress a wound. Almost in slow motion, so he can take a peek at how every inch of your body looks that day. Maybe you gained a bruise, a scratch, a freckle, or a stretch mark. Either way, he wanted to make note of every inch of your body, memorizing every way your skin moved or wrinkled, your muscles flexed. He needs the image of you in his mind constantly updated.

-You do the same to him. Collecting every change in his body and adding them to his mental schema.

-When all of your clothes are finally off, and his mate stands before him completely raw, is when he begins to lose control of his mouth.

-"Gods, have you always looked like this?"

-"So warm, so soft."

-"How come every time I see you, I feel like I've spent my entire life blind?"

-His claim of never needing to resort to poetry holds true, but that doesn't mean he isn't damn good at it.

-After minutes and minutes of leaving hickeys, kisses, and indents on each other, so much so that both of your lower stomachs have begun to boil and your lungs are gasping for air, is when Azriel pulls away.

-"Can I?" he asks as he presses his forehead against yours, his hazel eyes glowing and his bulge pressed against your slick. You nod, smiling, and with one last kiss, he slides home.

-And fuck does he go nauseatingly slow.

-Even if you're on top, he ensures you pierce yourself with him with purpose, sliding his dick all the way in, all the way out, and all the way in, over and over and over.

-It was fucking heaven how well he fit in you, how he got you so wet you didn't even need to try, how deep his dick goes inside of you...

-...and how he has no qualms about never shutting the fuck up.

-Especially when you're on top - the view of you sliding him in and out of you, your body fully open to him to admire, and face at his disposal to kiss and whisper into.

-"My mate, oh my mate."

-"Right there, do you feel that? Fuck you take me so well."

-"My gods look at us, look at me in you."

-"You like that? Right there? I fucking love you. My mate. My love. My soul."

-As I said, poetry.

-One thing he never fails to take advantage of is the full-length mirror leaning against your wall, giving the both of you the perfect menu of angles to view yourselves.

-I think you know where this is going.

-"Look at us, baby. Look at us."

-"You're so fucking beautiful."

-"Look at yourself when you take me inside you."

-He goes on and on, drunk on the feeling of you, diminishing him of any sort of filter.

-I cannot imagine any reason you would want to shut up the most private, silent male in all of Prythian while he's sprouting sweet nothings to you, but if you do, there's one surefire way to do it.

-Reaching out your pointer and middle finger, only two fingers are necessary, and tracing thin lines down the veins in his wings.

-Never will you ever see him go so silent so quickly. His cheeks instantly redden and his voice escapes him. His cock begins to twitch inside you, his grip on either you or the sheets becomes so fierce his scarred knuckles turn a milk white, and his mouth falls open.'

-He becomes immediately and totally helpless.

-The two of you begin to fuck harder then, chasing the high the both of you are so close to, fucking into each other faster and faster and faster until finally you are coming on his cock, and he is spraying across your thighs.

-Finding release with a mate is different than any other - it is blinding, hot, and immeasurably pleasurable. It fills every vein in your body with a molten rapture, forcing you to collapse into his body, and his own to collapse onto yours. The bond within both of your chests throbbing in delight like a second heartbeat.

-After a few moments of you practically regaining consciousness, his warm, sweat covered body begins to move against you, making sure your head is comfortable on a pillow and your body is flat. He then presses kisses all across your face, etching a smile onto your face.

-"I still believe," he whispers against your temple, "that I will never get enough. I love you I love you I love you."

-The smell of sex and sweat vanquishes your nostrils as you stand up and head to the bathroom, Az's eyes burning holes through your skin.

-By the time you return, Azriel's arms are open to you, and you tuck yourself in. He holds you impossibly close, his miniscule chest hair rubbing against your cheek. His wings add a second layer of protection.

-Your body begins to fade, but your mind lingers a little longer to process one final statement whispered into your hair.

-"Gods, never allow me to be parted from her."

Taglist: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy@seraphqueen @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @xxpeachyxo @evlyncelia @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @redhighlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @mystic-sculptorture @wolfyland7 @are-y0u-serious-blog @hilism @tooobsessedsstuff @simplysensual @hernameispa @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5 @saphiraprince22 @azsazz @thatonespriteobsessedbitch @moisyinfluencerstrawberry @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @azsazz

#azriel x oc #huge azz #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf fanfiction #sjm books #crescent city #throne of glass imagines #cassian fanfic

2K notes · View notes