SJM:
A Ballad of Flame & Shadow | Azriel Fanfic
Alex was falling between worlds- falling through worlds- until she landed with Bryce someplace that was definitely not Hel.
And now there was a male before her, the most beautiful male she had ever seen and something other than fear sparked in her heart. Wattpad & Ao3
A Court of Pleasure and Ruin (Nesta x Cassian x Azriel)
Nesta can't stop thinking about how Azriel and Cassian made her feel during training and all the things she wished she could do with them. Looks like her wishes have come true.
Wildest Dreams (Batboys x Plus size reader ACOTAR)
Where the reader finds herself gaining the attention of the most notorious males in Prythian and it seems that even her wildest dreams couldn't prepare her for the night they would share.
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Relax (Bat Boys X Plus Size reader)
Where the reader goes into the Birchin sauna for some peace– and then falls asleep. She wakes up and finds she isn’t alone anymore. Rhys, Cassian and Azriel desperately want to help her relax. (Hint: High Lady Feyre likes to watch)
Dreamer-(Rhysand x Reader)Rhysand begrudgingly goes to Hewn City to secure a marriage pact that will indefinitely bond the two Courts together- but the fine ladies of the Court of Nightmares are not what he wants or needs. Instead, he discovers Lady Y/N, and she has no qualms about telling him how he has failed this City and her. This is more than just coincidence, it’s fate.
Yours (Rhysand x Plus size reader)
Y/N meets Rhys in a bar- one month after the worst night of her life. One month after he saved her. But Rhys has no interest in being a hero, and Y/N doesn't want to be a victim. They only want each other.
Euphoria- (Ithan Holstrom x Plus size reader)
Where Y/N finds herself needing to be reminded just how desirable she is, and Ithan Holstrom is more than willing to show her.
Stay With Me (Rhysand x Plus size reader) Part Two Part Three
Rhysand reappears at the cabin four hours after he had gone on a mission- wounded and bleeding. Y/N has no choice but to help him, even if it means yanking out every ash arrow embedded in his wings by hand. But something Cassian once told her makes her re-think the line between pleasure and pain, and she will do anything to make it better for her High Lord. ‘Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?’
Better Than Any Fantasy (Ruhn Danaan x Tristan Flynn x Plus size reader)
Y/N’s been avoiding Flynn like the plague, and Ruhn knows why and is more than happy to tell him. Especially when that conversation leads to something much better than any of them could have hoped for.
Hurt me (Cassian x Plus size reader)
Cassian and Y/N are late for an IC meeting not that Cassian cares, no, he has two things on his mind: your body and your pleasure.
Mirror, Mirror (Cassian x Plus size reader)
Y/N flees a party where it seems Cassian and Nesta can’t stay away from each other, but when Cassian comes rushing after her, more than one declaration is made and more than one secret is discovered.
Cauldron Blessed (Azriel x Plus size reader)
When you overhear Azriel say that the Cauldron was wrong about you.
Take it (Cassian x Azriel x Plus size reader) Part 2
Rhysand's playing Cupid and his meddling has you experiencing something you never would have thought possible.
Unworthy (Azriel x Plus Size Reader)
Azriel hated her, he was disgusted by her… and he didn’t want another male coming near her. It all comes rushing to the surface one night when Y/N can’t take his cruelty anymore- and Azriel can’t keep lying to her about how he really feels.
Mine (Cassian x plus size reader)
Y/N goes wedding dress shopping and is confronted with females who make it clear that they think she’s unworthy of being Cassian’s mate, that she shouldn’t be his wife. Cassian shows her just how fucking wrong they are.
Fire Night (Eris X plus size reader)
It’s Fire Night and High Lord Eris has to complete the Great Rite. He finds Y/N – he finds his maiden.
Cautious (Bat boys x plus size reader) PART TWO
It's just as Cassian said: the bat boys were young and dumb… and fucked females in the same room as each other. Y/N’s in for one hell of a surprise.
Beauty & the Beast (Tamlin X plus sized reader)
When Y/N finds Tamlin dying in the forest, she has no choice but to save him. Even if everything in her wished this male dead. Like two storms colliding, they meet. A broken High Lord, a hopeless healer. It almost sounds like fate.
BOYS OF TOMMEN:
When She Loved Me (Joey Lynch x Plus sized reader)
This is the story of a boy who thinks he’s unworthy of love, and the girl who proves him wrong—again and again.
House of the Dragon: Aemond Targaryen
An Old Flame (fin) Wattpad version
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI a
Part VI b
The Letter
Time stops existing somewhere between the first bruise and the fiftieth insult hurled across the sparring ring.
That feminist empowerment class I took in college went out the window as Nesta and I spat names at each other that would make the biggest chauvinist flinch.
It was fucking delightful.
LITTLE QUOTE SNIPPET OF CHAPTER 34, POSTED ON WATTPAD AND AO3 (linked)
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I stare at him, hair lashing wildly across my mouth and cheeks in the rushing wind, half-blinded by the strands and outrage alike. "You cannot just kidnap me because I chose a different ride!"
His expression does not so much as flicker. His arms remain locked around me, one braced beneath my knees, the other a solid band around my waist, holding me with infuriating ease as if my struggling amounts to nothing.
"You chose incorrectly."
For a moment, I can only gape at him.
My mouth actually falls open.
LITTLE QUOTE SNIPPET OF CHAPTER 31, POSTED ON WATTPAD AND AO3 (linked)
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"Oh, that is low," I hiss, leaning toward him. "I will have you know, Az, I am five foot four."
He just looks at me.
Deadpan. Utterly unconvinced.
I huff. "Fine. Five-three."
One dark brow arches.
"Alright, alright—fuck!" I throw a hand up, pointing my finger at him in warning. "Five-two. But that is as low as I will go."
His mouth twitches, just slightly. That faint, rare flicker of amusement glinting in those hazel eyes as he lifts another slice of apple to his mouth, again using the knife, again entirely too smooth about it.
"Prick," I mutter, snatching up my fork and stabbing another piece of apple with unnecessary force. It helps my temper, and the faint desire to stab him instead.
LITTLE QUOTE SNIPPET OF CHAPTER 29, POSTED ON WATTPAD AND AO3 (linked)
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"Good morning," Nesta says finally, that sharp tilt to her voice softened by knowing amusement. I watch her through narrowed eyes as she casually pops a piece of fruit into her mouth, lips curling faintly at the corner. "Good night?"
"Not as good as yours, it would seem," I drawl, stiffly tucking my chair in. "That was quite the porno you and Lord Cums-a-Lot put on."
Cassian chokes immediately, porridge going down the wrong pipe.
"Lord Cums-a-Lot?" he coughs out, pounding once against his chest.
Nesta tilts her head. "Porno?"
Right. No pornography in this quaint little medieval world. They probably relied on nude paintings and scandalous poetry for their erotic material. How miserable.
LITTLE QUOTE SNIPPET OF CHAPTER 28, POSTED ON WATTPAD AND AO3 (linked)
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I study him for a moment, trying to read beneath the calm exterior. His expression is controlled, carved from stone and shadow. But there's something quieter there. Something watchful.
“You came to check on me?” I drawl. “Surely your shadows already confirmed I survived. After the bath-time spectacle.”
One of them immediately curls tighter around his shoulder. Traitor.
His expression doesn’t change, but something in his eyes darkens. “They were concerned,” he says evenly.
“They were entertained,” I counter. A shadow slips from him at that, gliding across the floor toward me before retreating again, as if reconsidering its life choices.
A flicker of amusement ghosts across his face. “Maybe both.”
LITTLE QUOTE SNIPPET OF CHAPTER 27, POSTED ON WATTPAD AND AO3 (linked)
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The shadows stretch outward from me rather than toward me, gliding along the copper rim of the tub, tracing the curve of it before spilling back across the surface of the water in dark, translucent ribbons. One coils around my ankle beneath the water, light as a passing current. Another drifts up the length of my calf, unhurried, as if reacquainting itself with the shape of me.
Heat and cool meet in a slow, dizzying contrast.
"Azriel," I say under my breath, tilting my head back against the copper edge. "If you can feel this..."
The thought lodges there, unfinished.
Do they carry sensation back to him? Do they report in the quiet language only he understands? Does he feel the shift in my breathing, the way my pulse stutters when one of them tightens fractionally at my wrist before sliding free again?
LITTLE QUOTE SNIPPET OF CHAPTER 26, POSTED ON WATTPAD AND AO3 (linked)
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She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing blood across her cheek.
Heat, pure, molten heat, ignited low in my core and burned a ruthless path downward straight to my cock.
Holy fucking Gods.
The sight of her ripping out a demon's throat with her teeth was obscene in a way no battlefield carnage had ever been. Blood painted across her lips, staining her teeth crimson. Her beautiful face streaked and feral, eyes wild and blazing with something ancient and untamed. It made my loins burn. Made my body ache with a hunger so sharp and unfamiliar it bordered on pain.
"I wouldn't recommend doing that," she drawled lazily from the cot when the memory faded, and silence settled over the room. "Demon blood tastes like absolute ass."
LITTLE QUOTE SNIPPET OF CHAPTER 24, POSTED ON WATTPAD AND AO3 (linked)
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“Look at me,” he whispered into my ear. “Look at me, Alex.”
I forced my head up, blinking through tears until I could see him. Midnight-blue eyes. Just as breathtaking as the first time, I’d ever looked into them and fallen helplessly, irrevocably in love.
“Smile for me,” he murmured, his hand cupping the back of my neck, steadying me. Keeping me upright. Keeping me whole.
I shook my head, barely able to breathe.
His lips brushed my brow, a tear slipping free and trailing down to kiss my cheek.
Right now, as the next memory bled into another, one thing was unmistakably clear: Alexis Quinlan had ignited. She'd burned, bled, and drowned in that fucking fire—and came out forged.
So had Bryce.
The Quinlan sisters weren't just broken; they were reborn in the flames. A volatile cocktail of grief, rage, and purpose.
God help anyone caught in the path of their wrath.
i just saw your post about reader who can’t make themselves cum and ugh i love it, especially because i feel like no one ever talks about or includes it. anyways i would love to hear your thoughts on reader who has a hard time cumming, especially during sex no matter how good it feels
I fell that it’s honestly really important to talk about it to let people know that they aren’t alone. And I’m so glad you liked it :)
It is scientifically proven that men can cum easier during sex than women. It’s mostly because women have complex bodies, what works for one person might not work for the other. So when figuring out your own body, it’s important to keep in mind that your body is unique compared to others.
this wasn’t the first time that you’d been sprawled out in bed with Simon pleasing you. He kissed up and down your body, caressed every inch of you, even stopped for a little to rest his head on your chest and make sure you were nice and relaxed. You two had been on this journey together for a little while now, trying to figure out what you like and how he can make his pretty cum. He had tried many things, using his tongue, light pressure on your clit, firmer pressure, no pressure and just stimulating your g-spot, stimulating your g-spot and your clit, adding nipple play to see if that made you more sensitive; but even if it felt good, your body wouldn’t let yourself go.
at first, Simon thought it was because he wasn’t good enough. That he just lost his touch and that he wasn’t doing enough for you. But when you comforted him and explained how you’d been like this since you could remember, it made him feel better and worse. Alright, he wasn’t a complete failure and could still make you cum…but why hasn’t he? Every time you two had sex or just did foreplay, he would make sure to take all the time in the world to get you really nice and wet for him. He would use his fingers to curl inside you and touch that spot to make you mewl and arch your back off the mattress. But you still couldn’t cum. You were in the middle of him thrusting into you, feeling how his cock would twitch gently inside you, his fingers working your clit. Left side, right side, hood of it, right on it, pinching it gently, but all it would do is make you feel more pleasure that lead to nothing but a dead end.
you buried your head into his neck and let out small whimpers as he kept his movements steady. After another 15 minutes, that’s when the whimpers turned into silent sobs. Your body jerked a little as you cried, tears gliding down your cheeks and onto his bare shoulder. His head leaned down against yours and held you tightly, gently sliding your of you to hold you in his lap. You cried softly, neither of you talking, but both knowing what was wrong. “I don’t like being broken…” you said through little cries, voice soft and hoarse. But you were cut off by Simon shaking his head and cupping your face to press small kisses against the apples of your cheeks.
“Yer not broken, love. Y’just different. Just because we don’t know how t’make you cum just yet doesn’t mean my sweet girl is broken.” His words were soft against your ear as he caressed your head, another time failed.
as time passed, you began losing hope. It’s fair, thinking you just can’t do it because something inside is wrong or maybe you just weren’t cut out to be able to feel that pleasure everyone talks about. You started to notice how Simon even began refusing any type of pleasure. Handjob? No thanks, love. Maybe a blowjob cause you had a stressful day? Nope, but I do need cuddles, sweet girl. He was refusing your love. While he sat in his home office finishing some paperwork, you walked in quietly, staring at him as he stared down at the paper, pushing up his glasses. The glasses that you finally got him to buy because he kept complaining about the television being too hard to see and the news on his phone is too small. Thank god you did though, he looked bloody hot in them. Scooting your way into his office, you stood in front of his desk, catching his attention. “Somethin’ ya need, love?”
your cheeks burned as he looked at you, but you couldn’t get distracted! “Why are you refusing my love?”
it was clear the question caught him off guard by the way he paused, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you. “I’m not refusin’ your love. What makes you say that?”
“Wha-…? Yes you are! Every time I offer you a blowjob or a handjob, you say no. Am I doing something wrong? Does it not feel good? Do you…do you not like me anymore?”
he could hear your little heart shatter in that last question, standing up from his chair and walking over to you. He grabs you hands and sits on his desk, pulling you towards him. “I fucking love you. Neve think for a minute that I stopped loving you. I’m refusing to let you do any of tha’ because I don’t think it’s fair to ye. Not fair that my sweet girl has to endure not bein’ able to cum, so m’not gonna either.” He says while looking straight into your eyes, his thick and calloused fingers pushing some hair behind your ear. “Won’t cum until you can.”
while you thought he was refusing your live, he was actually doing it because he didn’t want you to feel left out? This man looked like a scary man, but he was the most thoughtful and caring teddy bear ever. “What if I never do, though?”
“Then neither will I.” He spoke seriously. “Understand?”
the small nod you give him is enough acknowledgement for him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now, I was doin’ some research, and I found that most women can’t reach an orgasm without some help. So, what do ya think ‘bout lookin’ for some toys with me, eh?”
My hands curled into fists on my thighs, every muscle straining with the effort to stay still.
Every instinct in me screamed—move.
Begged. Pleaded.
To cross the space between us.
To pull Alexis into my arms, fold my shadows around her shaking body, and swear nothing—no one—would ever touch her again. To promise that not a single tear would fall from those pretty eyes again.
This is the story of a boy who thinks he’s unworthy of love, and the girl who proves him wrong—again and again.
Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, fluff, drug abuse, and subtle smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
Joey Lynch had always been a bit of a storm.
Turbulent, unpredictable, dangerous at the edges—but never without reason. And when he met Y/N L/N, it was during one of his worst weeks in months.
His Da was spiralling again, Mam had vanished into her silences, and he was losing sleep just trying to keep the younger ones in clean clothes and fed. Joey was on edge. Dangerous, volatile.
Then she walked into Tommen's sixth year common room like she belonged, shoulders back, head high, her curves dressed in unapologetic confidence—and Joey noticed her.
Really noticed.
Not because of what she looked like (though Christ, she was beautiful in ways he didn’t know how to name yet), but because when some arse made a jab at her size under his breath, she laughed.
Laughed like she pitied him.
He stared.
And maybe Y/N noticed, maybe not. But that day, she walked past him and said, "You should stop glowering like the world owes you something. It doesn’t."
And just like that, Joey Lynch was fucked.
***
It started with biting.
Not literal—at first—but with words. She gave as good as she got, snapped back when he was cruel, stared him down when he raised his voice.
"Don't try to intimidate me, Lynch," she said one afternoon after PE. "I've fought bigger demons than a boy with a short fuse."
He didn’t ask what she meant, but he never forgot those words.
He found himself noticing things. Like how she wore pink nail polish, chipped at the edges. Or how she hummed a tune he didn’t know while doing homework. How she held herself—solid, grounded, unshaken.
And when he started showing up early to class just to see her?
That’s when Podge clocked him.
"You like her."
Joey glared. "Fuck off."
"She's fit," Podge replied, completely unbothered. "Not your usual type though."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Usually you go for the ones who let you push them away."
That stung more than he wanted to admit.
***
The first kiss was a disaster.
She slapped him.
Okay, she kissed him back first, and it was filthy—hands in her hair, her body against his, curves and heat and mouth.
But then she pulled back, slapped him hard enough to spin his head, and snarled, “Don’t kiss me when you’re angry, Lynch.”
Because he had been angry.
Some idiot had called her "brave" for wearing a bodycon dress at a party, and Joey broke the guy’s nose before Y/N could even roll her eyes. She found Joey in the garden later, blood on his knuckles, panting, pacing.
“I’m not ashamed of my body,” she told him. “You don’t need to defend me like I’m some victim.”
“You think that’s what I was doing?” he hissed.
“Isn’t it?”
He had grabbed her face and kissed her hard, wild, like he was trying to devour her and drown at the same time.
But she was right. He had been angry.
And she wouldn’t let him use her as a pressure valve.
***
Weeks passed.
Y/N kept showing up in his life like gravity—he couldn’t avoid her, couldn’t shake her.
She came to his hurling game and heckled the other team.
He showed up to her poetry reading without telling her—and nearly cried when she read a piece about loving your body after years of hating it.
One night, under the stars, she told him, “People look at me and see fat first. You didn’t. That scares the shit out of me.”
Joey swallowed. “Why?”
“Because you see me. And if you ever stop, that’ll hurt more than the insults.”
He cupped her face, reverent, thumb brushing her cheek.
“I won’t,” he said. “I swear to God, I won’t.”
And then he kissed her—slowly this time. Like a promise. Like he’d never stop.
***
The first time they slept together, it was messy and hot and full of whispered things he’d never said aloud.
Her body was soft, warm, welcoming. His hands shook—not because he was nervous, but because he wanted to do everything right.
She pulled him down, kissed his shoulder, guided his hands over the parts of her she used to hide.
“Is this okay?” he murmured against her neck.
“More than okay,” she whispered. “You make me feel wanted, Joey.”
He met her eyes and said, “You are wanted. Every fucking inch.”
She smiled—and that smile broke him open.
***
Joey had never undressed anyone slowly before Y/N.
Every other girl, it had been rushed, desperate. A distraction. Something to fill the silence.
But with Y/N, it was reverent.
He stood at the edge of her bed, watching as she pulled off her top, baring skin that made his chest ache with how much he wanted to worship her.
“You’re staring,” she whispered, biting her lip.
He moved in close, hands sliding over her waist. “You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you look like something made to be touched.”
He kissed down her neck, over her collarbone, then lower—pressing slow kisses to her belly, her hips, her thighs.
When he knelt in front of her, she stiffened slightly.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she whispered. “That I’m… too much.”
His eyes snapped up, wild and full of fire.
“Don’t ever say that again.”
His mouth found her inner thigh, biting just enough to make her gasp. “You are everything. Not too much. Not too big. Just right.”
When he finally touched her—tongue and fingers working in tandem—it wasn’t just to get her off. It was an offering. A devotion. A way of saying you are worthy of pleasure.
She came hard, thighs trembling around his head, gasping his name like a prayer.
And when he moved over her, kissing her again, she grabbed his face and whispered, “Let me see you.”
Clothes hit the floor. Skin on skin. Bodies molded together.
She reached between them, guided him in, and when he sank into her heat, they both stilled.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You feel like home.”
They moved together, slow at first, then harder, frantic. Her curves cradled him like a vice, her nails in his back, mouth on his neck.
“Joey,” she moaned. “I need—”
“I’ve got you.”
And he did.
When she came again, he followed, burying himself deep and clinging to her like he was afraid she’d disappear.
They lay there after, tangled up, sweat and breath and heartbeats crashing.
He brushed damp curls from her face.
“You make me want a future,” he whispered.
She blinked up at him, lips parted, cheeks flushed. “Then let’s build one.”
And in that quiet moment, with nothing but moonlight and warmth between them, Joey Lynch realized he wasn’t falling anymore.
He was already hers.
***
But things got hard.
Joey had bad days. He pushed her away sometimes. Screamed. Shut down.
But Y/N refused to be a casualty of his self-destruction.
“You either talk to me, or I walk away, Lynch.”
And he talked.
For the first time in his life, he let someone hold the weight with him.
***
The door wasn’t locked.
That was the first sign something was wrong.
Y/N pushed it open and was immediately hit by the sharp scent of bleach and stale beer. The bathroom light flickered overhead. Cracked tiles. A knocked-over bottle of vodka in the sink.
And Joey.
Slumped on the floor.
Back against the tub, legs splayed, hands trembling.
“Y/N,” he slurred, eyes glassy. “You weren’t supposed to see me like this.”
Her heart cracked in half.
He was pale—too pale. Sweat clinging to his brow. Pupils blown. There was a crumpled little bag near his foot, some powder residue still left. Not coke—something worse. Stronger.
She crouched down immediately. “Joey, what the fuck did you take?”
He shrugged, eyes unfocused. “Something Shane gave me.”
Her stomach twisted. “Christ. You promised me. You said you were clean.”
“I was,” he whispered. “I was.”
He looked up at her like a boy lost in the woods, and that was what gutted her most—he wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t defiant.
He was broken.
And ashamed.
“I couldn’t breathe today,” he said hoarsely. “Da was yelling. The electric got shut off again. Ollie cried because the telly wouldn’t turn on and I couldn’t—fuck—I couldn’t fix it.”
Y/N blinked back tears. “So you did this instead?”
“I needed to feel nothing.” He looked at her, jaw shaking. “I’m so tired, Y/N. Of always failing. Of always being the fuck-up.”
“You’re not a fuck-up,” she said fiercely, grabbing his face. “You’re a boy with too much weight on his back and no one ever taught you how to carry it.”
“But you believed in me,” he whispered. “And I ruined it.”
“No. You relapsed. That doesn’t make you evil, it makes you human.”
Joey closed his eyes. “You should go.”
“Not a chance.”
He flinched. “I don’t want you to see me like this. I’m disgusting.”
“Stop it.” She shook him gently. “You are hurting, Joey. Not disgusting. Not unlovable. Hurting.”
He let out a broken sound, and she realized he was crying—barely. Just tears sliding down his cheeks while he tried to hold onto some semblance of dignity.
“I need help,” he said, barely audible.
She nodded, climbing down beside him, wrapping her arms around his shaking body.
“Then we get help. Together.”
He sagged into her.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.
Y/N kissed his hair. “You don’t get to decide that.”
***
The angst didn’t disappear. It never would.
But neither did she.
And somewhere between the bruises and the soft mornings tangled in bedsheets, Joey Lynch fell harder than he ever thought he could.
***
"You still think the world doesn’t owe you anything?" she asked one night, curled up beside him, wearing his hoodie and nothing else.
He stared at her—the soft curve of her stomach, the stretch marks on her thighs, the strength in her smile.
“No,” he said, brushing his lips over her shoulder. “It gave me you.”
A/N: Re-reading the Boys of Tommen series and I have never loved anyone as much as I love joey lynch. Just a little something I wrote last night while in my feels.
