#Nesta x fem!reader

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Omega Ours - Part 1 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader| Short Series 2.7k

After fighting your way out of every potential mating offered to you, your village sends you off with the High Lord. Rhysand, tired of dealing with the Alphas living in the House of Wind, gifts you to Cassian and Nesta in the hopes that it'll settle all three of you down.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, forced proximity, d/s themes, only one bed (and only one chaise), lots of tropey tropes! No use of YN but liberal use of pet names.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 5 faveourite tropes (Omegaverse, only one bed, forced proximity, sort of insta-love)

Part 2 will be posted on the 13 (Free day!) follow @illyrianlibrary for updates ❤️

Part 2 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

The only way to describe the couple stood before you was - handsome. 

The High Lord and Lady who’d brought you here were beautiful, elegant. But this couple could only be described as handsome, strong, Alpha. 

You knew them, of course. General Cassian of the Nightcourt and his mate, Lady Nesta. Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death, they’d called them in the camps that circled the Illyrian villages like pilot fish on a shark.  

“I’ve brought you a present,” Rhysand drawled, pointing at you. “Well, it’s a favour and a present. The last unmated omega of the season. She's  from the Western Isles, I thought it might help to tamp down your behaviour if you two had a project.” He grinned and you turned to look at Nesta and Cassian again. 

It was true, you’d rejected every mate offered to you, bitten some of them, in your desperation to get away, and that’s how you’d lost your freedom. Fighting the boys from the village was one thing, fighting an Illyrian was another. They’d hauled you into the camp in front of the High Lord on his last visit and demanded compensation. 

Rhysand, ever flush with jewels and gold, had paid them and then had a set of cuffs and leathers made for you. Nightcourt black velvet, red stitching and silver buckles. But restraints were still restraints, no matter how soft they felt against your wrists and ankles. He’d had new clothes made for you as well, traditional sheer panels of matching blood red that hung in gossamer curtains down your legs, pooling around you as you were forced to your knees in front of the Lady and General. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Nesta studied her nails, her air bored but her eyes kept flickering towards you. 

“Come now, Nesta, we both know you and Cassian caused quite the stir the last time you were both in heat.” 

You were right then, you could smell it on them anyway, that raw power and strength that designated them as Alpha. 

“Still -  you want us to take care of your problems?” Nesta huffed. 

“Of course not, she’s a gift, for you and Cass, if you happen to tame her enough that she stops mauling my men then that’s a bonus.” 

You looked between them, it was undeniable how attractive they were. Better than the mud caked idiots from the village at least, but you still railed against the hand that dragged you back to your feet. 

Cassian kept his hand under your elbow, pinching your cheeks with his other hand. “Come on, Nes. She’s cute, isn’t she?” He angled your face up towards his mate. 

Nesta shrugged one shoulder and you snarled, snapping at Cassian’s fingers. 

“Feisty,” he gave a deep chuckle, “I like that, that’s how Nes and I got together.” He hauled you over his shoulder, your legs and arms dangling, the panels of your dress slipping dangerously. 

“Put me down!” You beat your fists on his back. 

“Should have thought of that before you tried to bite me,” he teased, jostling you. 

You scowled at Nesta, who followed, laughing, through the halls of the palace and then tried using the only knowledge you had about the Illyrians. You reached out and grabbed his wing, squeezing as tightly as you could. 

He growled back, the sound travelling up through his chest into yours, vibrating your very core. 

“You want to play rough? Good.” 

Cassian shouldered a heavy door open and suddenly the sweeping corridor was gone and a dark, warm room wrapped itself around you. 

The walls were an oxblood red with thick velvet curtains that lay heavily in front of the eternally open windows. The soft jasmine breeze that circulated through the house was mixed with the cleaner scent of mountain air and the crackling of a fire, rich and inviting. 

The general set you down, his gaze travelling slowly down your figure. He clenched his jaw and then instantly turned to his mate, cupping her cheeks in his large hands and kissing her roughly. She growled in response, leaning into his embrace and allowing him to lift her against his body. You watched as he carried her across the room to an open archway, almost hidden behind a large tapestry, and then they vanished again. 

Tentatively, as much as you could with the thin chain connecting your ankles, you crept across the room to the curtain, now brushed back and curling heavily on the polished floor. 

Nesta and Cassian were tangled on the bed, the heady scent of their arousal lay thick in the air, the bedsheets already rumpled as if they’d been interrupted before, the room in disarray. 

On both bedside tables there were stacks of books of various genres, a pitcher of water on one and dagger on the other. 

“Either come in or go,” Nesta groused from the bed, hair messy, one of Cassian’s hands still tangled in the long golden-brown strands. 

“Play nice, Nes.” The general laughed, biting at Nesta’s earlobe. “You can join us or you can sleep,” he said over his shoulder. 

Sure enough there was a small chaise made up with blankets at the end of the bed. You shuffled over, and fell heavily onto the soft cushions listening to the sound of their love making. Each grunt and moan made you press your thighs together harder. Each stifled sigh had your hands twitching, itching for something more. You may have rejected every attempt at a mating, but you weren’t completely without feeling, without desire and needs and lust. 

You lifted your hands to cover your ears, the chain between them digging into the bridge of your nose, and fell into a confused sleep. 

 You awoke to the sound of moving bodies and cloth dragging on the floor. 

“She’s asleep, let her rest, Cas.” 

“What if she’s cold?” The footsteps came closer and you tensed on instinct. The steps stopped, but a gentle weight floated down on you, a large cotton blanket, awash with their scent, settled. 

“I’m going to wash,” Nesta’s voice faded as she walked away but there was no other movement. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was loud in your ear, closer than you’d expected and you jumped again, almost sliding from the chaise. Cassian’s arm caught you, tight around your waist and his bareskin was so warm against your own. You cracked one eye open and looked around the room as best you could with his wings blocking out the faint candlelight.

His arm was speckled with tiny scars that twinkled against his tan skin, the hair that decorated his forearm was as dark as the long tendrils that brushed over his shoulders and this close, his chin almost resting on your own arm, he smelt heavenly. That mixture of his own scent and Nesta’s even stronger in his proximity and, no doubt, enhanced by their earlier activities. 

“If you want, you can borrow some clothes.” His voice was a sleepy rumble and you resisted the urge to let your omega instincts take over and push yourself back into his chest, seek out that warmth, that comfort - but you didn’t respond. 

The sound of running water in the other room stopped, replaced with the gentle pad of Nesta’s footsteps and then she was in front of you. Surrounded by them again you had to fight back every urge to give in to her wicked mouth, her lips plump and kiss bitten. 

“We’ve left you some things on the chair, choose what you will. If you want to join us on the bed, you can.” Nesta moved away taking Cassian with her and you assumed from the gentle rustle of sheets they were back in bed. 

The chair that sat opposite their grand fireplace was strewn with clothes, silky looking negligees and billowing linen shirts, some cotton leggings and a pair of woollen socks. 

Waiting a moment, hoping they weren’t looking, you rose from the chaise and rushed for the chair. The translucent dress the High Lord had had you wear left your skin cold and bare, exposed and vulnerable. Cassian’s shirt was a welcome relief, covering your body from view, although the two slits in the back for his wings did feel slightly odd. The socks were warm and fluffy, long enough to reach almost to your knees. Redressed, you turned to return to your chaise and tugged the blanket up to your chin. 

You didn’t really want to spend the entire night there, but you also refused to give in to the ridiculousness of the situation. No one chose your mate, or mates, for you and you’d rather sleep on the tiny chaise that allow anyone to take that choice from you. 

Thankfully, Nesta and Cassian had turned away, the Illyrian’s large wings spread over the bed,. Shielding his mate from view? Or stopping her from following you around the room with her silver stare? You weren’t sure, but you were grateful as you closed your eyes. 

It was only as you were falling asleep that you realised you were snuggled into the shirt, inhaling Cassian’s scent, and by then it was too late, you were tumbling into your dreams. 

The next morning Cassian and Nesta were gone, but someone had left a tray of food, a pot of tea and a stack of books on the table. The doors to the balcony were open and the jasmine wind blew the curtains back so invitingly you couldn’t resist. 

You were halfway through one of the books they’d left, something by Sellyn Drake that had far more smut in it than you were anticipating. A slice of buttered toast was stuck halfway to your mouth as you stared transfixed at the page, when the door opened. Cassian held the door for Nesta, taking a long sword from her hand and placing it on the table that was perpetually strewn with weapons. His own sword and daggers followed and the two of them began to strip out of their leathers. 

There had been a rumour that Nesta trained alongside the Lord of Bloodshed and the Shadowsinger, trained with other women as well, but you hadn’t thought to believe it until now. 

Her leathers were tight against skin, a sheen of sweat making her sparkle, her long hair was tied up in what was now a messy ponytail and, most surprising of all, she was smiling broadly at Cassian. He returned the smile, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss, his hands wandering down to the buckles and clasps that held her fighting leathers together. 

Cassian looked equally as powerful, his own armour dark against his tanned skin, his tattoos flowing under the leather before appearing again at his collar bone and trailing over his shoulders towards the vast wings at his back. You set the book down slowly, the lust filled scene already had you feeling hot under Cassian’s shirt even before they appeared. 

The movement caught his eye and he turned, taking Nesta with him and pinning her against his chest. They way they looked at you, like the most delicious prey, had you pressing your legs together. You wouldn’t give in to this, especially not when it was exactly what that smug prick of a High Lord wanted. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he cooed, “Would you like to join us?” 

It was Nesta who held her hand out, crooking her finger to coax you forward. “We’re going to bathe, the tub is large enough for three, come.” It was more a demand than a question and, though you longed to see how far down Cassian’s tattoos went and how Nesta would look covered in bubbles, you resisted again. 

With a shake of your head you went back to your book, trying to ignore the sound of them together through the wall. 

You fell into a rhythm, the three of you. Nesta and Cassian continued as they were, training, working in the library and attending meetings, and inviting you to join them whenever they were together. 

Your nights on the chaise were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but you refused to be worn down by their requests, preferring to stay silent and read alone either on the balcony or by the fire. No amount of reading could drown out the sound of their love making, though. If you could call it that, judging by the bruises both of them sported proudly and the way their headboard banged against the stone wall. 

Despite your protests their allure was difficult to ignore, their playful banter, the care and attention they showed each other, even the way they whispered in bed, dissecting the day's events and, on a few occasions, discussing you. 

This only happened when you were pretending to sleep heavily, breathing slow and steady as you wished for dreams to take you. 

“Nes, did you see the way my shirt fit her today, rolling up her thighs-” Cassian had made a deep, guttural noise, only to be shushed by Nesta. 

“Yes, Cas, stop, she’s right over there.” Nesta hissed in return. 

“I know, God, she’s so fucking close, don’t you think she smells good?” 

“You know I do.” The sheets rustled and you heard Nesta whimper as a wave of arousal flooded you. They could smell you, you knew it and you couldn’t stop it. 

Sleeping in their room, bathed in their scent every day, surrounded by their things, it was like a huge nest and the longer you lingered here the more you wanted to give in and climb into their bed, to be between them and allow them to care for you.

You knew something had changed when you woke up drenched in sweat. As usual, Nesta and Cassian had already left the room, your breakfast arranged in its spot, clothes laid out for you. They’d started adding some new things, items that smelt like neither of them, clean linen and lavender, but you were still drawn to their items the most. Perhaps, it was the way they smiled when they saw you cuddling into one of Cassian’s shirts or standing on the balcony in one of Nesta’s dresses. But you refused to confront that feeling. 

Despite your long, cold, bath you still felt hot and uncomfortable. It was mid way through stripping off your linen trousers that Nesta reappeared. She moved with a preternatural grace that you were sure existed well before her sister’s ascent to High Lady. A smoothness to each turn of her hand, or extension of her arm, she made walking seem like a dance and you were transfixed.  

Nesta stopped as soon as she saw you, her nostrils flared, almost imperceptibly.

“Are you okay?” she asked in that cool, silvery voice. 

“Yes,” your voice felt hoarse. You barely spoke and had gone days without saying anything to either of them, merely existing in their presence. But now, locked by her gaze, there was no escaping. 

“You seem -” she weighed her words carefully, “unwell.” 

“I can assure you, I’m fine.” You took a half step towards the balcony doors, hoping the breeze would cool your skin. 

Nesta hummed, surveying you from head to toe. “I’d feel better if you got into bed.” 

You knew this was as persuasive as Nesta could be, a simple request made in the lowest of tones, an argument not worth having. 

“I-” 

“The bed.” She crossed the room swiftly and turned you towards the large, velvet draped bed that took up a large portion of the room. Since your first entrance into Nesta and Cassian’s suite, you’d done your best to avoid even looking at it. Now there was no escape.

Your hands were shaking, a tingling heat rising from your spine and coiling in your stomach. On this occasion, just once, you’d listen to her. “Fine.” With great difficulty, you pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor. You were so tired. When had you become so tired?

Nesta’s deft fingers grasped your chin, holding you still so she could look at your pupils, large and frightened. “Get in bed and go to sleep,” she insisted, and you obeyed. 

Part 2

[cardia-c]

Something to Crave

Content Included: fluffy women loving moments, nesta being a softie for her wife

A/N: Nesta, my beloved wife. Hated by many, worshipped by few.

Nesta’s eyes watch you flit around the library, her steel colored eyes tracing the dip in your back from the opening of your dress. The lack of fabric was a blessing in Velaris fashion to her eyes, the forceful changing of her DNA was a blessing.

It all led to this moment, something of serenity and warmth. The sun peeking through the stained glass windows of the room. “Love, where did you set that almanac again?” Your voice wakes her from the trance that the mating bond put her in.

Her finger raises itself towards the far end on the shelf that you were currently at, pointing at the golden writing on a maroon cover. Nesta felt a wave of comfort be sent down the mating bond, lilac and moss washing over her shoulders like a blanket.

Wooden rungs creak under your weight when you descend the ladder, the anxiety of seeing you even five feet above the ground easing away. Her arms opening up invitingly, welcoming you back into her embrace. Your bodies melting together on the chaise, Nesta’s nails running gentle lines along your thighs.

Manicured nails slowly dip higher and higher along your skin, shivers dripping down your spine as she kisses your neck. “I missed you, I missed this.” The ghost of her breath settles on your skin.

One of your hands reaches back, settling to trace patterns on the nape of her neck. A familiar pattern for you both, moments like this becoming a reminder of the near-eternity you would have with each other. Her teeth nip at your skin, tugging at the surface.

“Baby, stop,” Nesta smiles and presses another kiss along the column of your neck. “Nesta Archeron.” She stills before huffing in agitation. Your hand continues to scratch at her neck, slowly dragging itself down her body before settling onto holding the top of her hand.

The book in your hand slips down to the floor with a clatter, Nesta’s hands coming to settle on your waist as you turn in her lap, “What’s got you so needy?” The tone in your voice causes your mate to meet your eyes.

She shakes her head while lifting your hand to kiss your palm, “I’ve just missed my love.” Those words settle into your heart, spreading to your mating bond, seeping into your lives.

“Dove, I love you too.” Her cheeks warm beneath your hands, the starlight in her eyes giving you reasons to fight for her everyday that you can.

let me know if you’d like to be tagged

[sjmprideweek]

Hello I’m back it’s been 3 seconds i need to share my love for @shadowdaddies and @tadpolesonalgae because their Nesta fics live in my head rent free just bouncing around and they’re both so kind and sweet and talented and mwah mwah forehead kisses to both

- @daycourtofficial

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Oranges

Library Etiquette was the first Nesta fic I read, and let's just say it changed me.

[princess-tulip-writes]

Genre: fluff / suggestive ig

Summary: Ever since Nesta met you, her cold heart warmed for you until it melted into a mushy puddle of affection. Especially, when her baby is feeling sleepy…

A/n: wrote this for a very special girl’s birthday. Happy birthday @redbleedingrose, I love you 💋

“C’mer, baby. Let mommy hold you.”

Nesta smiled softly at you, and tilted her head as her arms opened for you to curl into. It only took moments before you were paddling across the library and crawling into her lap like she requested. A loving glimmer in her eye caught your attention as you laid your head on her breast.

“You’re so pretty, my lovely girl, such a beautiful baby I have.” She cooed at you, placing her hand on your cheek and softly stroking the skin with a small smile on her lips.

“Thank you, mommy.” You replied to her compliment before turning your head and kissing her palm affectionately.

The action caused her heart to warm, and a grin to spread on her flushed cheeks. Her eyes fell on your lips, making her breath hitch with all of the things she would rather have those pretty lips do than stay empty.

Her thumb swiped your bottom lip gently, picturing how they would look with a pert nipple between them, preferably her’s and soon because they ached for your warm, wet mouth. Sure, you did this already this morning but she wanted it now as well. She couldn’t help her desires, you just looked so pretty suckling happily on her tits.

Without a second thought, she was already tugging down the neck of her dress and freed her breast for you, revealing her hard rosy bud awaiting your mouth to welcome it.

You blinked slowly as you mindlessly began to reach for it, licking the bud once before enveloping it into your mouth and sucking softly. Although this was very enjoyable for her, it was like euphoria for you to be wrapped in her arms and nursed like her good little girl.

A satisfied moan left her lips as your tongue flicked over her nipple softly and your cheeks hollowed.

“Just like that.” She encouraged. “You look so pretty feeding off mommy, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, falling sleepy like usual, and Nesta took it upon her to start humming you to sleep now but not before kissing your forehead gingerly as a wordless confession of her love and adoration for you.

Acts like this weren’t uncommon with Nesta given she was no good at expressing her feelings, even with you. Yet every time she did, it caused your belly to warm uncontrollably and your heart to slow calmly. She may not be good with words, but at least she’s trying to get used to the affection thing, and she’s doing such a good job at it for someone who lacked it her whole human life.

She believes it’s because of you. From the moment she met you, she knew you were pure and so full of good that her poison could never, and would never, touch you as long as she could help it. It was difficult, especially on the days when you decided to be a merciless brat, but she managed to do just fine with you. At least, you thought so anyhow.

When your sucking gradually slowed to a consistent and calm rhythm and your breathing slowed against her skin, the Valkyrie stroked your cheek with a feather touch one last time, appreciating your sleeping beauty for a long moment to herself before picking her book back up and resumed reading her novel.

[thehighladywrites]

— “You were flirting with me?”

pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls

warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,

amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗

You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.

Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.

Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.

“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.

“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”

You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”

And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.

Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.

He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.

With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.

—

The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.

But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.

So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.

—

Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.

Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?

He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.

Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.

He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.

“Hey.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?

“Yeah?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.

“How have you been?”

You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.

“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”

Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.

“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”

A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.

Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.

”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”

Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.

"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.

"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.

"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.

"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.

Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.

“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.

“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.

“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”

Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”

Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.

“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.

"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.

—

Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.

As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.

You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.

—

Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.

"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”

Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.

“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.

“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”

Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”

Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.

You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”

Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”

You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”

Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”

The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?

—

“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.

Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”

Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”

Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”

Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,

“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”

Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”

Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”

Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.

—

You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.

As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.

You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.

Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.

His presence was undeniable.

Azriel was here.

Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.

"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.

"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.

"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.

Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows

"You look absolutely breathtaking."

Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.

You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.

”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”

Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."

A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.

"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."

Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.

As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.

Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”

You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.

"May I-"

"Yes."

It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.

His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.

You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.

Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.

Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.

With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.

“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”

The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.

“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat

“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.

”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.

“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.

You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.

As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.

“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”

In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.

You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.

You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."

"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."

You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.

Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.

“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”

—

extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:

Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.

"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.

Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.

Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."

Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."

Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."

Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."

Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”

Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”

Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"

Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."

Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”

"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”

Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.

[yiiyiiwrites]

Please do winter warrior at winter solstice. What gifts would she give everyone?? Part two to tame the wolf? Please 🥲

Oh this is sweet :) I think winter warrior would bring a mixture of the most bizarre gifts to the most obvious. Nesta is not mated to Cassian 3461words not edited [Previous part]

[winter warrior masterlist]

❄️ Winter solstice

The heat hit you as soon as you entered the townhouse. Your fur coat still tinged with the pink hues of your blood, you'd patched the hole refusing Cassian's offer of buying you a new one. The Garments in Velaris were not as warm or heavy as the ones from the winter court.

Cassian guided your coat down your arms, a twinge of pain surging through your shoulder making you flinch. You were supposed to return in the morning, but you'd ventured into the heart of winter to buy some last minute gifts for your friends. The word felt foreign to you, but you'd come to realise that they were your friends as much as they were Cassian's.

His hand slid to yours, warmth spreading through your frosty veins. You allowed him to guide you down the hallway and up the stairs, the muffled sounds of your friends in the living room. Lights flickered against the narrow walls, Cassian nudging the door open with his foot as he dragged you and the bag of your belongings into his and yours bedroom.

The fire roared beside you, logs crackling in the silent room. Your gaze trailed after Cassian, his armour already shredded and the black swirls decorating his chest, a smirk tugged his lips.

"Is this where you give me my gift?" His brow arched, wings twitching as you stalked towards him. Always the predator in his gleaming eyes.

You traced your nails along his bicep, shaking your head and jutting out your lip. "Sorry, my love but you'll have to wait," you said, you fingers working the buttons of your undershirt. "Think you can manage that?"

He’d already gifted you your solstice present this morning, unable to keep it a secret. A silver locket, snowflake trapped between a glass pendant. Not just any snow though, it was a mixture of the Illyrian mountains and the winter mountains. To anyone else it was found anywhere, but the way the light caught the snow, you could see fusions of blue ice from the first place you met him in the winter mountains. The Illyrian frost a duller white in comparison to the crisp blue hue of your home.

Cassian grumbled, pulling on a clean shirt. His gaze wandered to you as you undressed, brows furrowing as you peeled off your shirt. He let out a deep breath, "God's they really did whip you like an animal," his whispered breath fanned against the back of your neck. He traced the three lines scored into your back, scabs stretching the healing wounds that you could feel the tight pull with every move.

"My love, you forget I am an animal." You stepped away from him, the knot in your stomach leading you back to him. "I deserved it, I shouldn't have lashed out at my sister." You kissed his stubbled jaw, patting his cheek.

"No one deserves that," he trailed after you, through the walk in wardrobe helping you reach for the lighter layered clothing you'd stored away. "Besides I'm sure your sister deserved it, the things that come out that mouth. That's an animal." His distaste for Veyna never hidden, he frequently told you what he thought of her.

You tried to push back the memories of your nails digging into her throat, even the blood spitting from her mouth as she continued baiting you. The wolf snarling, silvery gaze filtering the warm colours around you.

Blinking you, you pushed down the wolf and dressed in a tunic and trousers, inky blue velvet hanging from your shoulders. You were still getting used to wearing light weight clothing, the way your body moved like shadows and the silence of fabrics not rubbing together. The boots you wore thinner, the soft leather laced up and the sole smaller giving you less height.

“Come on,” you tugged him with you. “This is my second solstice, I think I understand the gift part much better now.”

Cassian chuckled behind you, “my love, I’m definitely looking forward to what you think as a gift.”

It was true, you’d messed up last year. Getting people what you thought was necessary, forgetting that they didn’t live in the rugged mountains. You’d hunted food to bring for the feast, only knowing what you’d read from old books in the mountains. That and you gifted them each a lock of lucky witches hair you’d bought from the keeper of forest high in the mountains.

You’d spent the last three months trying to figure out what would be a good gift. Even sneaking away to the healers quarters in the heart of the winter court to ask your sister, Senna’s advice. It was awkward, you’d never given a gift even to your family. Their life was down there whilst yours was in the mountains. The only gift you did get was from the high lord each yeah consisting of supplies and new clothes.

The winter solstice went on for a week below in the heart of the court. You had never celebrated it, your days spent patrolling the forest and mountains like usual. The wicked never slept, that’s what they’d reminded you growing up. You knew that families in the mountains had their own tradition of dinner of the night of solstice, but you didn’t have anyone close to your hut to bother with the holiday. Sometimes though when you woke the morning after, someone would leave food wrapped in a cloth on your doorstep.

Laughter echoed down the halls, the glow of yellow welcoming you into the living room. So much warmth, not just from the fire. Feyre rushed forwards and hugged you, force nearly knocking you over.

“We didn’t know if you were coming or not…” she trailed off her rambling, gaze flitting to Cassian behind you. Her cheeks turning red as she linked your arm with yours. “Elain wanted to give you her present first,” she whispered patting your arm and pointing through the misted glass at the balcony.

You pushed the door open, shutting it behind you and tucking your hands around your body for warmth.

“I knew you wouldn’t be long,” Elain said, smile tugging her lips. She clasped her hands in front of her, a habit she did for you as she realised you followed her every movement.

You don’t know why but Elain made you very aware of every bone in your body as if the wolf would jump from its cage and unleash itself. The straightness of your back and the tightness of jaw setting the dull aches of pain as you willed yourself to walk towards her.

Her gaze was always soft, just like her face and her touch. Something you were still getting used to. The way she chose her words and coated them with kindness surprised you most.

“I respect that you fend for yourself, but everyone needs a little bit of help sometimes. There’s lots of things to aid you when you’re injured.” She said, stepping aside to retrieve a brown bag.

Elain rifled through the bag, pulling out an assortment of health tonics and soothing balms. She knew you too well, knew you wouldn’t look through the contents as if something lurked in there, you peered over looking into the unzipped bag and the ribbons of bandages balled up. It must have taken her weeks to collect it all and she would have had to research certain things you knew only tied to the winter court.

“Thank you,” you said bowing your head and mirroring her smile. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble, one tonic would have been enough.” Gods now your present paled in comparison.

“Nonsense,” Elain said, swatting her hand, you jerked back before her hand connected to your arm. Fists twisting in the fabric under your crossed arms.

As if sensing the change in mood, the house dropped Elain’s present into her hands. You looked out the corner of your eye, wondering if she’d like the gift.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, breath fogging the glass she held. A small flower nestled on top of a mound of snow, blue petals ruffling as a cloud dispersed snowflakes from above to fall upon them. “This is from your home?”

You nodded, “it’s from the highest peak of the mountains, only grows in snow.” It had taken you days to trek to the top, part of you needed to go that way on your patrol, but another telling you it was perfect for Elain.

“Thank you, I love it. I shall put it on my desk in my bedroom. So I can always see it.” A smile blossomed, the tip of her red nose reminding you to go back inside. She held the delicate glass, her eyes on the flurry of white flakes kissing the petals.

You held the door for Elain to enter first, scanning the balcony out of habit before you retreated into the warmth.

Turning on your heel, your met with the dark wisps and their owner. Azriel smiled down at you, he plucked a small box from the darkness swimming around him and gave it to you.

“Happy solstice,” was all he said before slinking away. He took up space by the door again, leaning against the wall and falling back into conversation with Feyre.

You pulled the thin yellow ribbon, the lid opening as you untied it. A silver coin laid upon shredded tissue, a wolf on one side and a sword on the other. You picked it up, examining the scripture on the side. The coin more of a medal nowadays, was given to patrollers in winter when they had reached a certain milestone. It wasn’t something your court did anymore, but there were still some floating around. You had never seen one though. He didn’t need to hear your appreciation out loud, he nodded to you across the room knowing that it meant a great deal to you.

“What did you get, Az?” Cassian said, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you onto his lap.

Azriel perked up at the mention of his name, he wasn’t expecting a gift and he’d told you not to get him one.

“I may have taken a days leave to hunt someone for you.” You prayed they wouldn’t ask for the gritty details, you squeezed Cassian’s arm before he could ask. “They’re being held in the winter courts tower and ready to be transported at your convenience.” You’d spoke in length with Azriel about a slippery fae who kept flitting between the courts in hopes of pleading sanctuary. Thought you’d make his gift the essence of time, hunt the fae and offer him up for questioning.

“Not today, Az,” Rhys said, stopping Azriel before he could get to work. “Solstice remember.” He patted him on the back, steering him to an armchair by the fire.

Azriel’s hazel eyes connected with yours, smile tugging the corner of his lips as Cassian was trying to coax an answer out of you. How did you find them? Wolf or warrior?

You slumped back, wincing as you back made contact with Cassian’s firm chest. “Gods, this gift giving is hard work,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead. Mor, Nesta and Amren were yet to join you, saying they’d be at the townhouse for dinner.

The rest of your gifts were piled up with the others. Yours could be spotted a mile away, brown cloth wrapped around and tied with string. Colourful shining papers and vivid ribbon bows surrounded yours. Maybe you’d have to ask where to get stuff like that, it did look pretty.

Rhys was busy giving out his gifts, the ripping of paper and gasps filling the room. He stopped before you, “if you’d allow me, I’d like to meet your wolf and help you understand the spirit better for yourself,” his words echoed in your mind, but his lips did not move. Words for you to hear alone and maybe for the wolf to hear too.

His gift meant more than he realised, no one had asked to meet your wolf or offered you help in a way that wouldn’t harm you. You nodded in thanks, his energy slipping from your mind.

You handed Rhys a thin long box, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. It was a gamble and you wasn’t sure if it made you look savage, but it was the only thing you could think of. He slid the lid off, frown settling his head, his violet eyes snapping to you.

“The talons from the naga that attacked Feyre in the spring court,” you said gesturing to the four claws rolling around the box. “The autumn court chased them through to the winter, I came across a group of them in the mountains. Could smell feyre’s scent on that one.”

The room fell quiet, all eyes on you and Rhys as he picked up one of the long sharp talons. Had you messed up? Was this not something normal, least you didn’t bring its head.

“What?” You blurted out, glancing at each of your friends around you. “I did good, right?” Cassian’s face softened, faint smile replacing the frown.

Feyre appeared beside you, palm smoothing up and down your arm. “Thank you, that must have taken a lot of courage. It’s a thoughtful gift,” she said, she took the talon from Rhys and placed it back in the box.

“Will make a good paperweight.” Rhys smirked, dodging feyre’s jab.

You settled next to cassian on the sofa, head resting against his shoulder. The heat radiating from him and the fire calmed you, twinkling lights draped the mantle piece with pine cones and branches. The scent of pine reminded you of home and all you wanted to do was bundle up in a duvet letting sleep take you. The past few weeks catching up with after your dazed hunt.

Mor, Nesta and Amren appeared in the doorway.

Nesta sauntering through the room, her icy stare focussed on you. “I’m glad to see you,” she said, stretching her hand for you to take. She pulled you up, hand clasped in yours as she led to the entryway. There was bite of frost you and eldest Archeron shared, the way it claimed you as cold and detached, made your friendship stronger. One look between you two and you knew what each other were thinking.

You knew what she’d get you, clothes. She’d been the one to give you clothes more fitting for life in Velaris, your heavy set garments no use outside of the winter court. Nesta kept to the same shade of midnight blue, that hung in your wardrobe and complimented your complexion. A long overcoat, white fur trimmings circling the cuffs and hem. Silver embroidered stars and the traditional snowy pattern of your court decorating the soft material.

“Go ahead, try it on,” she said, holding the coat so that you could slip your arms into the sleeves. You winced at your healing wounds, shoving down the ache with a smile. You twirled around, her hand holding her chin as she examined the fit, she was well know to the tailors and you didn’t put it past her that she’d designed it herself.

“I should warn you,” you whispered leaning in to lower your voice as low as you could. “This book is banned so don’t go leaving it around.”

Nesta turned the book in her hands, fingers flicking the yellowing pages. She’d mentioned the author once before, the name never left your mind and you’d been searching for it since she’d confided in you. You managed to get lucky, finding one in a second hand shop in the heart of winter. As if you were meant to find it. She raised it in air, the house hid it away till it was time to leave.

You removed your overcoat, folding it back up in its neat box and set it aside on the cabinet in the hall. Nesta and you made your way to the dining room, plates full of food lined the centre of the table, thin pillar candles tucked between the dark green foliage.

Bottles clinked in your hands and you placed them in front of Amren, the only place at the table without a plate. “I may have drained a few beasts during the coldest months,” you said, popping the cork from a bottle and pouring the red liquid into the glass in front of her.

Amren downed the glass of blood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. A smile playing on her lips as she poured another. “Always full of surprises little wolf,” she said, raising her full glass at you. You wondered if she could tell which beasts you’d drained, but you’d leave that for another day. Letting her savour the gift.

She gifted you a weather warner, a metal device that predicted rain. You’d hated the rain ever since you’d arrived in Velaris and always got caught without shelter. Snow you could handle, rain you loathed it. How it drenched your clothes and left muddy splashes in its wake. Now you couldn’t be caught in it thanks to Amren.

The dinner rolled on, questions about your three months away and what everyone else had been up to. Your stomach and jaw ached from laughing so much. You all returned to the living room, more subdued than earlier. The wine coaxing Amren into a slumber on the window seat, Mor placing a fluffy blanket over her.

You hadn’t spent much time with Mor, she’d been busy with the hewn city before you left for winter. So you still didn’t know enough about her to get her a meaningful gift. That’s what you’d learnt, to get presents that the person would like or something they’d mentioned, to know you listened to them.

You’d settled with red lipstick that didn’t budge in the cold, only removed with cleaning balm that came with it. A winter court speciality that kept people lips hydrated in the biting cold, but added a bit of style. It matched the red encrusted gown she worn tonight, she dabbed it onto her full lips thanking you for the gift.

She handed you a flask, magicked to keep liquids warm. A welcome addiction to the supplies you needed for the coldest months.

Feyre hovered nearby, she’d asked you to wait till last to exchange gifts. She could hardly contain her smile as she finally got to her turn. You’d gifted her a wooden box, palette inside that kept paint cold and stopped them drying out, a few paints that were darkest colours which were only made in winter.

“Thank you, I can’t wait to test them out,” Feyre said, looking at the paint tubes and opening them to see the depths of colours. She set the it down, holding a finger for you to wait.

When Feyre entered the room again, you gasped. Snuggled in her arms was a scruffy furred white fox. It squirmed on her arms and leapt to the ground. Is darted towards you, snaking in and out of your legs.

“Flick,” you said, scooping your messenger in your arms. “But how did you? My general refused to let me take him.” You’d had flick since you were a child, his name given to him because his tail was forever flicking. His white fur wasn’t pure, a sandy hue to the shaggy coat.

The winter court had many white foxes they used to send messages, fast little things that blended into the snow. Flick licked your chin, teeth nipping gently at the braid over your shoulder.

“I asked Kallias.” Feyre stroked Flick, tears stinging your eyes as you buried your face into his fur.

“Thank you, this means so much,” your voice a hoarse whisper. You knew your general would have something to say to you when you returned, but you didn’t care. You’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

The evening blurred, your head heavy as you swayed in Cassian’s arms. You sank into the soft mattress, warm hands took off your shoes and pulled the sheets over you. You blinked, the bed dipping beside you and Cassian coming into view. His hand cupped your cheek and you held onto his wrist, resting the side of your face on his calloused palm.

“Your present,” you mumbled, sleep lacing your voice. The house dropped an ancient tome on the bed, his love for war and history running deep, but he’d never read texts on the winter mountains. Well till now, frost clung to the hardcover, you’d ventured far into the forest and begged the keeper of the forest for the old tome. Exchanging the scales of naga for it.

Thanks for the request :) I didn't realise how long this was but wanted to include all of the inner circle. Hope you liked it - Yiiyii

[thebreakerofchains]

Lights Down Low

A/N: So, I was listening to this song, and I was hit with the thought of Nesta and well...Less than decent thoughts. So, I mused to myself "why not?" and wrote this self indulgent one-shot. Keeping in mind that while I am a pro at reading smut, I am all but a novice writer of it, at best.

Nesta Archeron x Fem!IllyrianReader

Warnings: SPICY!! DNI if you are a minor.

Cassian had woken you up that morning frantically spewing about how he wouldn’t be able to go to training – you were barely awake let alone properly hearing what he threw at you full speed at those ungodly morning hours – all you got was that it had something to do with the Illyrian camp and Devlon and that he really would appreciate if you could cover for him seeing that leaving the females with Azriel being the only instructor was as dangerous as lighting a match near gasoline. And, if you knew something about Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie it’s that do they burn and blow easily. 

So, you decided you were in a generous mood today while you dressed up in your fighting leathers and headed towards the training area at the House of Wind. He also owes you one, naturally, and you had almost the perfect idea as to what favor you’d call in for that, you think to yourself with a wicked grin. 

“Good morning, ladies.” You say with a smile to your face at their already sweaty state, considering they have been here for forty minutes at most.  

Azriel gives you a once over from where he is standing and an inquisitive look, “I didn’t know you were joining us today.” 

“Nice to see you too, Az.” You feign an expression of hurt, “Glad to know you have missed me.” You had been on a diplomatic trip with Morrigan to Vallahan for a few weeks and had only recently got back as of two nights ago, and the only people you got the chance to see were Rhysand and Feyre for the report, and Cassian this morning as he groveled at the end of your bed for you to cover him for training. 

“I am glad you two are having a great time chatting away, definitely don’t mind us.” Nesta said from where she stood in a stretching position that looked about as painful as it probably was. “Should I ask the House to bring you some biscuits and tea so you can get properly acquainted?” 

You bite the insides of your cheeks in an attempt to control your grin from growing any wider. How you missed those snide comments. Not that Mor wasn’t stimulating company during that rather boring trip, but no one could entertain you so effortlessly like Nesta Archeron. 

Rhysand says you are a different brand of masochist for enjoying the blue-gray-eyed woman as much as you do. Well, you and Cassian, who also never shied from a mostly healthy banter with her – without dramatic repercussions, at least. 

“If you gave the same attention that you do us to your stretching you would see more effective results, Archeron.” I wink at her and she eyes me with a look I do not know how to describe other than ‘I will make you eat those words’; I shiver inwardly. 

I am distracted, or rather saved, by Emerie to my side as she groans out, “This is insanity.” She moves out of position with a deep intake of breath, and I see my opening. 

“Here, let me help.” I move to her sitting on the ground, silently asking for permission as I move my hands to her arms. She nods slowly in recognition and I start adjusting her sitting stance spreading her limbs wider apart and then holding her upper members up from behind her. My chest is pressed on her back, and I move my head to the side of her ear before asking, “How does it feel?” 

“Fine.” She breathes out low and quick. 

I hum, slightly puzzled with her reaction wondering if I am somehow making her uncomfortable. I look above her shoulder and see Gwyneth’s teal eyes gazing at us, cheeks red adorning a mischievous smirk. I clear my throat and get up from my position behind Emerie, “Now, you only have to keep it up exactly like that, and you will see that as nagging as it is, it won’t be quite an unbearable pain as before.” 

I circle around the field correcting the priestesses here and there, mostly giving them verbal instructions on how to improve their stances and the whole time I could feel a much familiar fire burning on my back. I was being watched. 

The training ended on a positive note, and much to Azriel’s dismay, the priestesses all left with a thankful and hopeful murmur that I should lead the sessions more often to which I just smile shyly at. As soon as they left, I start tiding up until I hear the swish of a small blade, looking back to see who my companion is, I meet the face of Nesta and her intense eyes as she plays with a dagger. 

“Can I help you with something?” I ask, mentally cursing myself from being that affected at the sight of her in training leathers. 

“So, this is how I find out you are back home?” She runs the blade on the wooden table where the other weapons laid, slowly approaching me, closing me in a lot like a predator hunting its prey. 

“I didn’t-” I start and she pauses me raising the blade to my lips, the sharp end meeting my skin with a blazing cold touch much like Nesta’s own. 

“I don’t care.” She eyes me in a silent dare to try and explain myself again. 

I for one, get so completely lost in her eyes and the smell of her that all I do is take one of my hands up to her face where a strand of her golden-brown hair slipped from her updo and remove it from where it laid on her sweaty forehead. Nesta sharply intakes air and I lose mine altogether, as if she sucked in my very breath to her lungs, her full breasts touching my own, her nose brushing on mine. 

“Did you miss me?” She husks. 

I nod gradually. 

“Hm.” She hums out, “Is that why you were feeling up Emerie at practice earlier?” 

My eyes widen at the implication, “I would never!” 

She merely grins wickedly to me, her leg moving between my own and I feel her leather covered core press down on my thigh. I let out a gasp, and she strokes my hair gently, “I wonder if you didn’t look for me because you were too busy with Morrigan. You did spend two full months with her at Vallahan – so eager to help, volunteering yourself like that – and we both know you don’t last long being on your own, don’t we, baby?” 

She blows soft air to my face, as if it would help me cool down. “That is absurd, Nes. Morrigan doesn’t see me that way, or any other female, that we know of.” I muse out. “Well, maybe Emerie if we are being honest, but I know better than to raise the question to her.” 

She presses herself further into me in a way I didn’t even know that was possible, I see stars and my hands find her hips in a possessive grip, “Nesta...” I mean to sound warning but it comes out a tad too desperate to be anything else other than pleading.  

“Yes?” She drawls out sensually, hips moving away and right before I answer she pulls them back down deliciously deliberate and steady. A growl leaves my lips and I switch our positions, her back now touching the stone-cold rock walls. “I thought you could help me out with my stretching exercises, unless that special attention is reserved for Illyrian females only.” She draws out and I swear I hear a hint of jealousy to her tone. 

“I can always make an exception for you.” I decide to tease her back, “If I am not too busy. You high fae do bend different.” 

“Oh?” She lifts one of her perfect eyebrows at me. “Care to elaborate, professor?” 

“For example, you are much more sensitive here,” I say as I slid a hand down her ass touching her inner thigh from the back, “than most Illyrian females I taught before.” I drag my hands upwards again, purposefully grabbing her ass and she lets out a small squeal. “Or maybe, that is just you.” 

She moans out, “You are right, just me.” Enunciating the last two words roughly with intent as she pulls me for a mind-numbing kiss. My grip to her back tightens and my other hand finds its way to the mess of tangled hair that was once her braid, deepening the kiss, she gasps in surprise and I take my opportunity to slowly enter my tongue in her mouth giving her lower lip a teasing lick before sucking on her own. At this point, we are both frantically panting, all I can see, sense and smell is Nesta as her nails scratch my back until I can feel blood coming out. I draw back from the kiss and she glares at me in her dizzy state, I give her a mirthful look and she seems to understand exactly where my thoughts went to just as I rip her top apart and am met with her creamy perky breasts waiting to receive my undivided attention. 

Wasting no time, I take my mouth to her left breast as my hand that was in her head seconds ago playfully twists and teases the other one, her hips still moving, relentlessly searching for any kind of relief and contact they can find. 

“I reckon you missed me as well, Nes.” I breathe out between my ministrations as I move to the right side and suck hard on her hardened nipple. She moans out my name, “Ah, Y/N!” 

“I want to hear you say it, Nes.” 

She looks down to me, and it’s like something snaps between us. I have fucked Nesta thoroughly and often for a while now, in many occasions – and positions – but never have I felt such a feeling like the one engulfing me right now. It’s like the time we spent apart left the thing desperate, as desperate as I was when I thought of her, especially in the night when my hands drifted between my legs and I would come time and time again at the memory of her. 

I move my head to her neck and with a bite I order, “Say. It!” 

She screams in pleasure and I pull back to look at her dazed eyes while she says, “I missed you.”  

I waste no time as I take her into my arms, and fly to my room, the House apparently ever attuned to Nesta had the whole ambient ready for us. From the corner of my eyes, I could see red candles were lit all over the place. The curtains were now closed and there was a dizzying smell, but that was no one else’s credit but Nesta’s as her deep arousal hit my nostrils. 

Her hands that laid with a tight grip on my back move up to plant a feather-like touch to my wings and I shiver out a moan, “Illyrians and their wings.” She breathes out teasingly. 

With a snarl I rip her leather pants off her finding her glistening exposed sex so fucking ready for me. I ghost touch it and she arches her back trying to draw my hand closer to her center, “How long do you plan on making me wait?” She lets out petulantly. “Weren’t two months of touching myself at the thought of you enough punishment?” 

I raise my eyebrows at her, smiling wolfishly like a starved madwoman, which I am sure is the exact definition of what I am right now. I lower myself, kissing her inner thigh leisurely, and she grips my head her nails scratching on my scalp. “Y/N, please, I need you.” 

“That was fast, maybe I should go away more often, it seems you finally gained some manners while I was gone.” I say before planting a teasing kiss to her clit. 

“Baby!” She screams. 

I decide to put both of us out of our misery and draw my tongue from bottom to top before closing in my mouth on the bundle of sensitive nerves, I hungrily move up and down, circling and sucking in different points and directions before moving one finger close to her entrance. 

I look up to what is one of my favorite sights in the world, her golden-brown locks sprawled on my pillow, body glistening with sweat, her forehead creased in pleasure as she bites on her lower lip punishing the plump part before locking her gaze with mine and saying, “I need to feel you inside of me, love.” 

I suck at her clit before speaking, “Only ever me?” 

“Yes, yes, only ever you. I don’t want anybody else. Just you!” 

I groan on her pussy, a low guttural sound that has never come out of me before as I insert one finger inside her soaking wet pussy. “You are mine, Nesta Archeron.” 

“Yes, I am yours, all yours.” 

I put another finger inside her, mouth working mercilessly on her sensitive bundles as she screams chants of pleasure, and I can feel she is getting close and I am not far myself, she takes one of her hands to my wings and strokes a particularly soft spot and I moan loudly on her pussy. 

“Cum with me, baby.” She lets out breathy, mind close to succumbing. I move my fingers faster, harder and she continues stroking the spot on my wings, my climax borderline here until I feel the knot on my lower belly tighten impossibly and in a blinding flash of life I come just as her juices flow out of her and I divert my mouth lapping as much of it as I can. Licking her clean, fingers now moving slower and softer to help her ride out her high. 

I let go of her, a string of saliva between me and her intimate area, she pushes my head upwards and I meet her with a searing kiss. Her legs engulf my torso pushing me closer before she bites down on my lips strong enough to draw blood, and as the metallic tinge of it fills my tastebuds Nesta says lowly: 

“If you ever leave me for that long again, I will hunt you down, and I will kill you with my bare hands.” Her blue-gray eyes locked on mine, daring me to protest in any way. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I give her a slow kiss. 

She gives me a smile that bore nothing good, and I knew I would be in for one long, long night. 

[fantasyandshit]

Something is wrong

type: Oneshot

Pairing:Azriel x reader

Masterlist

"where are you going?"

"Oh, Az!" Yn turns as her wings unfurl- "Im headed to Windhaven to check on things up there for Rhys- When did you get back? I thought you were still in Day?" "I-I returned last night. I'm sorry, you said your going to WindHaven?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Rhysand asked me to? What's the issue with that?"

The shadowsinger notes the females face contorting into one of confusion, "Well it's just- Myself, Cassian, or Rhys are the ones that usually go up?"

Now the confusion morphs to anger and annoyance as she speaks, "Oh? Am I not capable shadowsinger?"

"No No! It's just that they are dangerous as they are- and well, your a female far more powerful than any of them-who knows what they may try to do to you?" The words fly out of Azriels mouth in a blur.

"Your right, i am more powerful than them-If I must I will fight them-inf act I'll do it in front of the whole of the camp as a lesson." the Illyrian females eight, bright green, siphons flare like green flames licking within the small gem shapes.

"Just-just be careful ok?" Azriel knew he couldn't fight the female-couldn't convince her to stay, and he knew she was very capable, powerful, but deep down he couldn't' help the gut feeling that something was going to go wrong- that she would be hurt.

"Always shadowsinger." She smirked as she dropped backwards off the balcony railing, falling for a moment before her wings flared open and she soared for the mountains- always with the dramatic exit.

-----

As I make my way through the frigid night to the cabin I am staying in I hear footsteps- ten separate sets of them trailing through the snow-following me. I whirl around only to be caught off guard by a punch to the face, I stagger back- quickly kicking my attacker in his kidney. The male lets out a groan, kneeling to the floor before before i kick him again, this time in the face. As I use my power, effectively killing the brute; another male comes up from behind, pulling my head and exposing my neck, just before I'm able to fling him off I feel a needle in the side of my neck. Shit.

I feel my body start to go numb, my knees giving out as the male behind me catches me. I barely get another glimpse before my eyes are rolling back as I go limp in his arms.

-----

"I'm telling you Rhys- its been five days, you said she'd be back in three. There has been no warning of a longer stay and no-"

"Azriel! Stop it! Yn is capable- you know that better than anyone, she will be fine!" A sigh, "If she doesn't come back within two days-we will go after her. ok?"

Knowing he wouldn't win this, Azriel bows his head before stalking out.

-----

The next day the doors to Rhysand's office were thrown open, the Shadowsinger storming in. He knew something was off with yn and he was not going to sit around any longer. He just, he just knew she wasn't ok and the fact no one seemed to care made him blind with rage. He didn't understand this feeling, he'd never been nearly this mad at his family before but he couldn't shake the fire burning underneath his skin.

"Im leaving and you're either coming with me or staying out of my way." Azriel didn't need ti explain, everyone in the room knew what he was talking about- well more like seething like a wild animal, his hair tousled as he glared ahead.

The high lord lets out an exasperated sight, "Az- we talked about this, if sh-"

"No! No! What of it were Mor? What if it where Feyre, or Nesta?"

"That's different-"

"No its fucking. Not. Now are you coming with me or no?"

As he turns to leave the room, Cassian moves to him,p placing a hand on his shoulder as he tries to reason, "Maybe-"

"Let. Me. Go."

"Az-"

"Let him go Cass."

The Illyrian let's his brother go sighing as he does so.

-----

Azriels shadows are in a frenzy as he lands in the camp- hurt- experiments-torture-ten-hurt-help-help!- Help her! Now! Faster!

The male sprints, running faster than he ever has as his shadowsa lead him deep into the woods where one lone cabin stands.

'basement- ten males-she's hurt-save her'

As the door is pushed open a man jumps for Azriel, he waist no time, sending his shadows down the mans eyes and strangles him as he slumps to the floor, the next males ends with a dagger in his head, the one after with a slit throat, choking and spluttering on his own blood, the fifth with shadows circling his body, pooling into the open whiles they find. The next is thrown from the house with Azriel's power, the next just obliterated, the eighth and ninth are thrown into each other, going on conscious before being stabbed in the throat. The final tenth one stands at the top of the stairs, thrown down and ending with a sickening crunch.

Azriel stomps down the stairs, being met with a sight that nearly makes him throw up as he rushes to the female. Yn lays naked and strapped to a cold metal table, her body covered in blood, vomit, piss, and puss that oozes from concerning wounds, her body is also littered in bruises, slices, and what look to be needle injection sights. And her wings, gods her wings were shredded, hooks tethering them to the ground. As he moves to her he notices a journal lying open...

they were using her as a fucking experiment- they had pushed who know what into her body, torturing her slowly.

"Az?" Her usual strong, sassy voice replaced with a weak whimper.

"Hey, hey I'm here." He brushes her hair behind her ear softly, his face softening immediately as he stares at her. she looks tired, so tired.

"You came for me?"

"Yes, I always will. Ok sweet girl, I need to release your wings ok? It's going to hurt."

She says nothing as she stares forward, Azriel grabbing the first hook and ripping it out- a small cry leaves her lips but she's out of energy, screaming far to much these past few days. Azriel moves to the next wing, pulling the second hook out, her wings drooping as he moves to unbind her. He slowly pulls her up and into his arms, cringing at the whimpers and squeaks she releases. "Oh sweetheart. I am so so sorry."

Azriel knows he can't transport her in this condition so he quickly calls for Rhys.

'Rhysand!' his panicked voice rings down to the other males mind

'Azriel? What is it?'

'It's Yn, bring Madja-quick.'

'I'm on my way now.'

"Az?"

"Yes?"

"Come here."

The shadowsinger leans his head down- surprised as Yn surges forward ever so slightly, pressing their lips together, molding them to each other like they were made for each other. Before any more can happen, Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian, and Madja appear in the room.

-----

Azriel watches as Yn's chest rises and falls slowly. She'd been out nearly three days now and Azriel couldn't leave her side, nor could he stand to look his family in the eye. They were part of the reason they were in this position right now, why Yn still lay on her bed, deep in sleep.

-----

The next morning Azriel is woken up by a soft voice. "Az?"

"Yn. hey, your awake." The male rushes to her side as he helps her sit up slowly. As the two make eye contact Azriel feels it, and judging by the gasp she lets out, Yn does too."

"Mate?" They speak at the same time. Smiling like two kids in a candy shop as they simply look into each others eyes for a moment. Unable to help himself, Azriel leans in, kissing he mate softly.

-------

Sooooo, hey guys! I felt like writing a feral Az but also wanted some sweetness sooooo here you go. Some of this did get inspired by the lovely work of @afandomangel but it was original work of mine, I've wanted to write feral Az for a while now. I want to leave this saying- Guys PLEASE send in requests, part of the reason I haven't been posting as much is because I a having serious writers block and my inbox has been open-and empty- for...well since In opened it and I needdddddd you guys to send in requests, I write everything and I write for a lotttttttt of fandoms, not just acotar so please please send in requests. Anywt\ay love you guys and I hope you enjoyed

[acotar-girly]

Night’s sister- Part 1

Summary: You’re Rhysand’s little sister, who escaped the spring court when your mother and older sister were murdered. The only living Princess of the Night Court. Rhys is High Lord, and your close sibling relationship is something everyone, even enemies (unfortunately) are aware of. You live with Rhysand. You haven’t met Cassian and Azriel yet, as Rhys is trying to keep you safe and protected. You’ve only ever heard stories of them, and you’ve never worked up the nerve to want to meet them. You’ve been kidnapped, by Rhys’ enemies, while he’s fighting in a war and he left you at home.

TW: kidnapping, graphic SA, graphic violence, gore, describing torture, (but also somehow a lot of fluff later on???)

-please tell me if i’ve missed any triggers and i’ll add them.

My eyes flutter open and I let out a low groan of pain. I force myself to focus on my surrounding through sheer willpower. My mind is cloudy, fogged by the pain that aches, burns, and throbs my body. I’m dimly aware of my lack of clothing, being stripped bare to just undergarments. My wrists are manacled by heavy black chains to opposite walls and I hang in the middle, my knees almost brushing the ground. I instinctively reach for my power, but it’s dampened and held down by another force. Scraps are all i have left of my once overwhelming power. It’s pressed down, either by a powerful fae or by a drug such as faebane.

A cool hand tilts my chin upwards and I let out a weak snarl, trying to tilt my head away in a pitiful attempt to get away. The person chuckles, as though finding my attempt to scare him away funny. The male in front of me presses a soft kiss to my lips, one hand keep my chin in place and the other stroking my hair. I shudder, but I’m too weak to pull away. He leans away finally, still stroking my hair, but his other hand moves to my cheek and caresses the unbroken skin there. I realise, that although I’ve been tortured to the point of unconsciousness, not one cut or bruise or burn scars my face. The male must see the realisation, or read my mind, because he laughs softly, amused.

“We couldn’t mark such a pretty little face like that” he cooes, enjoying toying around with me, seeing the fear creeping into my face, my anger and defiance dissolving.

Bella?

My mind drifts to the familiar voice that passes through the rubble of my mental shields, and the male notices my attention shift. He invades my mind once again, eyes narrowing, passing through the shields I desperately try to put up with what little power I still have.

Bella please

The voice pleads. Not the male in front of me. Another voice. Pinewood and citrus. The ocean. Home. I wonder dimly, how long the voice has been calling out for me, without a response. I wonder how long he’s been calling out to my unconscious mind, going crazy with worry. All at once, the memories rush down. The battle. Rhys. The kidnapping. The torture.

Rhys?

I manage to send back, the effort making my body sag. My voice, even in my mind, is exhausted and laced in pain. I hear the male laugh in my mind, the violation making me shudder. It’s like he’s mocking my poor attempt. Like he knows i won’t be able to tell rhys anything important before he interrupts me and my brother

Bella.

Rhys says into my mind, voice relieved.

Where are you? Are you okay?

He questions instantly, his tone back to one of worry.

I’m scared rhys

i manage to whisper back, my voice sounding childish. Broken and scared.

Bella, where are you?

He asks urgently

I’m-

the male steps in, interrupting the conversation in my own mind, cutting me off.

She’s more than okay, High Lord

He croons in my mind, to Rhys.

who the fuck are you?

Rhys snarls, his anger invading my senses, even with what’s probably all of Prythian between us.

and why are you in my sister’s mind?

The male smiles at me as though he expected this, lazy and amused, his teeth glinting, as he sees the pure undiluted terror on my face and the trembling of my body under his touch. My eyes are wide and afraid, and pleading. In response to rhys’ question, the daemati in front of me sends Rhys a mental image of me, chained between two walls, stripped bare to undergarments that aren’t mine. My wings bleed and droop, resting against the cold marble floor, stained in my blood, my body littered with cuts and bruises and burns. He caresses my cheek, the soft gesture making me sick, and I’m sure he’s still showing Rhys my state, because he tilts my head upwards sharply, my red rimmed, crying and afraid eyes meeting his own. Into his mind. Where I’m sure Rhys is looking down at me through the male’s eyes.

Let’s talk, High Lord.

The daemati says, grinning cruelly.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Nessian x mate!reader: Good Things Come In Threes

A/N: Based of this ask. I am planning on making a part two where the bond snaps for everyone, so I’ll try and get around to that asap!

It had taken you a long time to come around to them.

A very long time.

It wasn’t that you hated them, or didn’t want to be with them, more that it had never occurred to you to seek out a partner. So to realise you could have two was a revelation. And like most children of Prythian, you’d grown up with stories of not lovers, not husbands and wives, but mates. To find one is to find your world, but to find two? Unheard of.

Nesta had figured it out first, and with Rhys still showering her with gifts, it was no struggle to have him seek out a book that held the information she desired. She’d brought the news straight to Cassian, guessing that if she was feeling the effects of a second bond, then somewhere within him, he would be too.

They’d pondered tirelessly how to bring it up with you: whether they should just tell you outright? Have one of them broach the subject with you and if so, which one? To leave it until you noticed? Or to ignore it completely?

The trouble was, you were difficult to read at the best of times, often not shifting a single one of your features even as you made—what they had come to realise were—jokes. It had gotten to the point they thought it would be best to leave you be, no matter how much they wanted to welcome you into their bond. But when Cassian had caught you sharpening your blades in the Spymaster’s company, both of you grinning in that quiet, secretive way, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand it. Not when—as soon as you’d spotted him—the grin had vanished, unreadable once again as your shoulders stiffened.

And after that, it had only served to bring their attention to how you’d been quietly avoiding them—slipping out of rooms with a small look toward the Shadowsinger, an excuse that you needed to prepare for a mission, or you needed to leave in time for your job. The list went on.

Maybe you’d already realised the bond, and simply weren’t interested. The thought didn’t sit well with either of them. Which had lead to Cassian knocking rather stiffly on Azriel’s office door that night, hoping he could provide an insight. He seemed to be the closest with you—much to his envy.

The door swings open, and Cassian has to restrain his jealousy when he spots his brother at his desk, with you leaning casually against it with your feet crossed at the ankles. Again, that small smile slides from your lips, dropping to the floor at the sight of him in the doorway. He swallows against the slight sting of pain, remembering what he came here for.

“Have a moment, Az?” He calls as casually as possible, trying to appear normal and not like he’s burning with jealousy that he’s found you yet again in the company of his brother—looking for all the world you’re enjoying yourself with him.

You both share a look, some silent conversation happening that he has to remind himself not to demand to be let in on. Once, it had been just the two of them—Rhys as well, of course, but he wasn’t always there at Windhaven—but now Azriel’s attention seems to be swaying more heavily to you. Gods, is this how he’d made Az feel when Mor had come along?

“I should get some shut eye, anyway,” you finally mutter to the Spymaster, and move to leave, not so much as greeting, or simply acknowledging him as you brush past. He might as well have been invisible; even Azriel’s brows narrow almost imperceptibly. Maybe that’s why his words come out a slight bit harsher than he’d intended once you’ve made your escape. “You seem cushy together.”

Azriel’s eyes flick to his, sensing the accusatory undertone. “I’m not positioning myself between the two of you, you know,” he says instead, remaining infuriatingly calm. “What did you want to talk about?” And Cassian just knows that his brother is being intentionally difficult. “Do you know why she acts so cold towards me and Nesta?” He voices, shutting the door behind him as he takes the spot where you had been.

The Shadowsinger’s eyes don’t stray from his reports, “why don’t you ask her?”

“Do you know?” He repeats, sensing something’s being kept from him. He doesn’t like that, not one bit—the idea of you sharing secrets with his brother. Keeping him out of it.

“Maybe she’s said something to me, maybe she hasn’t. What’s it to you, Cassian?” The bastard still isn’t looking at him, and it’s beginning to make him antsy. “I think it’s perfectly understandable to want to know why she avoids us so much, Azriel.”

“Is she avoiding you?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Cassian barks, hands fisting at his sides. An action he knows his brother marks. The bastard smiles faintly. “I’d have thought as my brother, you’d be willing to help,” he snaps, “but it seems you’re picking her over us, huh?”

Finally, Azriel shifts in his chair, leaning back with a casualness that bothers Cassian, how nonchalant he is about this whole matter. He clearly knows how much it’s bothering him—yet he’s only adding to the problem. Why? “I’m not the one taking sides here, Cass,” Azriel drawls evenly. Cassian’s brow narrows at his words, “and I am?” The Spymaster’s lips quirks again, and he has to fight the urge to slam his fist into his brother’s jaw—he’d wait for answers before taking his frustrations out.

Instead of answering, though, Azriel changes the subject. “Just ask her. She’ll appreciate the directness.”

“And how am I supposed to ask her when she practically sprints from every room I walk into, huh? Do you have an answer to that, Azriel?” He snaps, temper fraying at the edges. Something glints in his brothers eyes, forming an expression that makes him see red, “wound a bit tight, Cass?” It has enough of a bite to snap him out of his momentary lapse in judgement. But all this stress—not knowing what’s going on with you, if they’ve done something wrong—it’s making things difficult.

Cassian drags a hand through his hair, looking away for a moment, brows narrowing. Then, “you really think she’ll be fine if I just ask her? ‘Hey, we hardly know each other because you seem to run from me every time I so much as breathe in your direction, but is there a reason you seem to hate even being in the same room as me—or Nes?’” Azriel gives him a look that reads, no, and you know damn well that’s not what you’d say.

“Then what?” Cassian snaps, glaring at his brother.

“Just knock on her door. If she’s not in there, then she’ll either be out, or in the library since she’s not here,” Azriel says, and he doesn’t miss the hint—you spend a fair amount of time in his office. Fire burns in the pit of his stomach but he calms it. He needs to be level-headed for this, especially if he wants to make sure he doesn’t screw it up.

Cassian nods to himself, turning and leaving silently. He can practically hear Azriel roll his eyes, but he decides to ignore it—he needs to talk to you, find out what’s going on it that head of yours.

————

After a brief catch-up with Nesta, they both head to your door the following day, knocking quietly in case for some reason you aren’t yet awake—though the sun is fairly high in the sky. They share a look when they’re met with silence, wondering if you’re pretending to be asleep to avoid them.

Cassian raises his hand to knock again, but—

“Is there something you need?”

Neither of them flinch overtly, but instead share a mutual moment of surprise through the bond. Of course Azriel would have been teaching you stealth techniques.

And now you’re moving toward them down the hallway, Cassian firmly planting his feet on the floorboards, equidistant from one another. Beside him, Nesta settles into a similar position. “We want to talk to you. Both of us,” Nesta says calmly, features neutral as she takes you in. “Both of you,” you repeat, eyes flicking between them. “One of you wouldn’t have sufficed?” You ask pointedly, gaze darting to your door with clear intent.

“Not for this,” Nesta replies. “There are some things that need to be cleared up. I think you realise that too. Isn’t that why you’re avoiding us?” She asks, clearly. She’ll appreciate the directness, Azriel had said.

Your eyes narrow warily, moving between them and the door. “Let me put my things away, then I’ll see you in the kitchen,” you say, not waiting for them to move as you brush past Cassian’s side, shutting the door firmly behind you.

In your wake, they exchange glances. But as they turn to leave, they pause. A small spark flickers from a third direction—tense, but hopeful. Cassian blows out a breath, following behind Nesta as she makes her way to the kitchen—your suggested meeting point.

————

It takes you longer than normal to set your bags down on the table and put everything away with the adrenaline in your blood. You wonder what they want to talk about.

They’ve taken the seats that face the nearest exit—so you’ll be closer—watching as you come in. Watch as you sit down. “What did you want to talk about?”

The two fae before you exchange glances. Directness.

Nesta sets her hands on the table, spine straightening as she meets your eyes. Takes a breath. “We think the mating bond extends to you, too.”

You blink. “What?”

Nesta doesn’t falter, “our mating bond.” She gestures between her and Cassian, “we think it includes you, too.”

You blink again, “oh. I see.” You shift in your chair, leaning forward ever so slightly. “And you called this meeting because?”

“We wanted to know if you’d realised,” Cassian says steadily. “If you’d felt anything on your side.”

Your gaze runs over them, weighing; assessing. “I’d felt something,” you admit, “but what makes you think it’s a mating bond? Those are shared between a couple, they don’t go for threes.”

“Actually,” Nesta speaks this time, “mating bonds join equals, connecting those fate or the Mother believes belong together. Originally, that was the only condition, but with the rise of civilisation and society, ideas of marriage were pushed onto the concept of the mating bond. In the earlier centuries marriage was strictly between a husband and wife, purely heterosexual and monogamous, and so those views became ingrained in the modern idea of how the mating bond functions,” she explains. “But that’s wrong. A mating bond was never limited to two individuals, was never limited to male and female,” She finishes, watching you carefully.

Like Nesta you don’t stutter or stumble, just take her words in at your own pace. “Okay, so your mating bond extends to me. Do you want me to join, or promise to stay out of your business?” Your scent has shifted ever so slightly, along with your posture as you readjust in the chair.

Right. If you’ve admitted you’ve been aware of something tugging at your soul, then it’s reasonable to assume you’ve been able to sense whenever they’ve…

You realise they’ve made the connection between your confession and the slight flush heating your features. “I haven’t purposely sought those senses out,” you add hurriedly, sensing their mild shock, “they just sometimes wash over me—I don’t know how to block them out. And it felt too personal to ask Feyre, or even Rhys.” You look between them again, and a spark of nerves skitters from your side of the bond.

“That aside,” Nesta somehow manages, pushing away the thought of you being able to feel either of their pleasure—at all times of day. How much do you know about their coupling? How they like to play it in bed? “To be perfectly transparent, we hadn’t got to that point. As far as we were aware, you had no idea this connection even existed, and your behaviour was confusing.”

Your brow furrows ever so slightly, the smallest contraction of muscle, “how so?”

“You weren’t exactly subtle in your recent avoidance of us. Is that when you started to realise that there was something more between us?” Nesta asks, holding your gaze calmly. You swallow down your nerves, trying to calm yourself as your heart begins to accelerate. “I was developing feelings that were new to me. I didn’t know what they were, an to be honest, they made me feel uncomfortable. Disgusted, sometimes. So I think it was a reasonable response to have. As far as I was aware, you were a perfectly happy, mated couple that I had no business tampering with. Or invading.”

“So, it wasn’t out of a dislike for us,” Cassian says slowly, processing, “but rather you felt guilty for having a seemingly open pathway into our relationship.” You nod in confirmation, then flush a little.

“Have you ever felt anything from my end?” You ask.

“Occasionally a spark or two, like when you were with my brother yesterday,” Cassian answers, hiding his jealousy well.

“I sometimes feel a tug in the mornings—when Cass’s still asleep, so it couldn’t have come form him—but I can’t tell the emotion behind it,” Nesta adds on.

Your eyes again flick between them, teeth finding the inside of your lip. “You’ve never felt anything else? No…?” You trail off, and it takes a moment for them to figure out what you’re asking. “It’s not directed at you,” you hurriedly tack on, “it’s just a bother to go through a day with that in the back of your mind.”

“No,” Cassian answers, a little hoarsely, “we haven’t.” His throat woks as he stares at you, hands fisting on his thighs beneath the table. You nod to yourself, relieved they haven’t been able to sense you scratching that itch. Rare as it is for you to fall for that temptation.

“About how to progress from here,” Nesta diverts, getting a handle on the tension that had begun to thicken. “I’m sure one of our siblings would be happy to help in blocking out the senses—if that’s the direction you want to move in.”

“What other direction is there?” You ask carefully, watching them a little warily.

Cassian and Nesta share a look across from you, something passing between them that you can only catch the edge of. Their gazes return to you, and you can feel your hairs rise. Skin prickling. “We trust in the Mother’s choice,” Cassian admits slowly, attempting to select his words carefully but you can practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he tries to sort through the correct way to phrase what he’s wanting to say.

But, directness.

He sighs, shoulders loosing their tension as he leans back in his chair, giving Nesta a signal to take over. He doesn’t know what to say—she’s better suited for this task.

“We’d like you to join, but if you would rather take up lessons in strengthening your mental shields, we will not interfere with you anymore,” she says. Straightforward. But then you nod, as if in acceptance, “I think I would like that, then.”

Cassian stares between the two of you—how quickly that was sorted through. Maybe directness really was the solutions to his problems. He can practically picture Azriel’s shit-eating grin at the realisation he was right about you.

“Right,” Nesta breaks the silence, her voice slightly rough around the edges as something warm spills across the bond. “Well, we’ll take it slowly and see what happens. Is that fine with you?”

You nod, but add, “I’m not…” Your eyes dart about the room, as if debating telling them. Cassian sits a little straighter while Nesta leans forward openly. “I’m not that interested in sex. It’s never been a topic of interest for me. So I might… I’m not sure what ideas you had regarding intimacy, but I thought it better to be upfront about this.”

“Of course,” Nesta reassures, even if the slightest flicker of disappointment reaches Cassian’s side of the bond. “If you’d rather stay clear of that side of things, that’s fine. I’m sure we’ll find a way to work around the frenzy when the bond properly clicks,” she soothes, glancing at Cassian who nods in agreement.

“It’s not a hatred, or repulsion, or anything like that,” you say, quickly. “I wouldn’t mind trying, or it actually happening if it will help ease any tension brewing. I know it’s supposed to be more intense for the males—I don’t want to make things complicated.”

Cassian’s mind goes a little silent at the offer. Beside him, Nesta’s stiffened—so you won’t detect her scent, he realises. Good idea on her part. He copies her lead. “I suppose we’ll take that one when we get to it,” he says to you, offering a tentative smile designed to set people at ease.

They’re both relieved when your shoulders relax, hearing the soft puff of breath from your lips as you settle back in your chair. “Yeah,” you agree, “maybe that would be better. Let things happen as they’re supposed to.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Omega Ours - Part 2 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader | Short Series 3.4k

Nesta and Cassian try to stay away from you, but your heat is just so irrisitable...

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, claiming & knotting! Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, anal sex, use of toys, oral sex, dp, creampie, dirty talk, bit of degredation/humiliation/teasing very much under-negotiated. NSFW. Filth.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources patient beta reading and mutual squealing from @christywantspizza ❤️

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 7 free day so ... Have some disgusting smut because I wish I was in a Nessian sandwich!

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Part 1 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

“Nesta -” Cassian’s voice was a low warning growl, you kept your eyes closed as the bed dipped. 

You felt worse, if anything, not better. Their scent was everywhere. On the sheets where you’d heard them make love night after night, on the pillow where the scent of Nesta’s soap lingered. Your heart was racing, your palms hot and sticky with sweat and that sick, dizzy feeling made the room spin. You couldn’t open your eyes if you tried. 

Then there was a cooling hand on your forehead, fingers long and delicate, Nesta. Without thinking, you sighed into the touch, rolling towards her. 

“Nesta, we talked about this, we need to get off the bed now.” Cassian’s voice was so far away, floating from the doorway, but Nesta’s was a balm against your aching mind, whispered in your ear. 

“She doesn’t want me to leave, Cas, and you don’t want to leave either.” 

“No, I don’t, but she made it quite clear -” 

You were drowning in them, their presence, their very beings, the hum of magic that Nesta seemed to emit wherever she went, the swell of power behind Cassian’s syphons, it called to you. Your body was its own, separate from your will, arching off the bed with a whimper. 

“Fuck,” Cassian was closer now, his hand touching your cheek, you nuzzled into it, the callouses on his hands were rough but his palm was a dry warmth, comforting. 

The throbbing that had started in your chest moved down and you recognised the dull ache between your legs. A flush rippled over you, sending goosebumps in its wake and the humiliating feel of slick between your thighs. 

“Hmm - exactly, Cas, fuck.” Nesta sounded as gone as you did, her nose tracing the line of your jaw. “I know you’re awake, sweetheart,” she cooed. Her hands slid over your body, tracing down your side and then up over your stomach and between your breasts. Naked under the blankets, your nipples pebbled when she rubbed a thumb over each nub. 

The bed moved, and Cassian’s hand joined Nesta’s, cupping your full breast and squeezing gently. You moaned in response, trapped between them, your thighs wet with arousal, sliding over each other. 

And then your eyes flew open and the reality of your situation dawned on you. 

“What-?” 

Nesta’s head dipped to nuzzle at your neck, her teeth scraping over the delicate skin and that primal side of you wanted to go lax, to let her scent you and bite you and claim you. But you wouldn’t allow it, couldn’t allow yourself to give in. 

Cassian’s hand was still holding you, his wings flaring behind him, taking up every inch of your eyeline, each movement sending tingles down your spine. His smile was low, hungry and his hazel eyes flicked down to your lips before looking over your shoulder at his mate. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’ll take good care of you,” his voice rumbled. 

Angry, you sat up, your head swimming, and pushed their hands away. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” you insisted, "I can take care of myself.”

With difficulty, you scrambled from the bed, dragging the sheet with you to keep your naked body covered. “If you insist,” Nesta purred, her finger trailing down your back as she passed, moving slowly towards the door. “You can probably deal with this alone, omega.” 

Cassian followed, towering over you as he tipped your chin up with one long finger. “You could deal with it alone, this is your heat after all. But if you need some help, you only have to ask.” He ran his hand over your cheek and down your neck before following Nesta from the room. 

As soon as the door was shut, you threw yourself back on the bed. You knew from their own activities that there were toys and oils in the little table by the bed and it was here you went first, pulling open the drawer and rummaging around until you found a beautiful crystal toy, it was long and phallic, not an unfamiliar shape, but you’d never been able to afford something beautiful before. 

It was blissfully cold against your heated skin, sliding between your folds and you welcomed the stretch as you eased the toy inside, sighing as you lazed back into the bed. You moved the toy slowly, finding a rhythm that had you clenching on the unrelenting material. The haze took over again and you allowed your eyes to close, revelling in the relief of being full. 

Cassian was right, this was a heat and you were sure you could handle it yourself, even if you’d never had to deal with a heat near an Alpha, let alone two, where their heavy presence remained even when they were gone, their scent, the feel of their hands. You tugged at your own nipple, remembering the feel of Nesta’s fingers. Before you could stop yourself, you were sighing her name, imagining that she was still curled up behind you, taking control of the toy between your legs. Then there was Cassian. When you were feeling so vulnerable and dizzy he had kept you steady, his agreement that this was something you could weather seemed genuine, but so was his offer to help. 

They hadn’t been what you expected, this strong, warrior like couple and you moaned again. “Cassian.” 

The toy stopped, a delicate hand moving yours away and taking over, the new angle brushing against your swollen clit. 

“I knew you wanted us,” Nesta’s clear voice made it through the haze, your will to fight fading as she worked the toy harder, pressing up just as a large hand smoothed over your lower stomach. Stars exploded in your vision and you reached out grabbing at them both as you rode out your orgasm. 

Above you, Cassian leaned over, cupping Nesta’s face and pulling her into him. They kissed with such passion you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

Hazel and blue-grey eyes turned towards you, their gaze piercing, taking in your sweaty forehead, open mouth and pleading eyes. 

Nesta ran a thumb over your lip. “Do you require some help, sweetheart?” Her voice was a tease, making you throb with need. You didn’t hesitate to nod. Her thumb was replaced with her tongue, teasing along the seam of your lips before dipping inside, claiming and tasting you. Cassian continued moving the toy slowly inside, the ripples of your orgasm still making you twitch. 

Nesta’s lips were replaced with Cassian’s, his pressure harder, more insistent and you luxuriated in the feel of them moving around you, taking control of your body. Cassian slid the toy from you and the feeling of emptiness made you whine with need, grabbing at the two alphas. 

“I knew you’d be wet for us,” Nesta hummed, and you opened your eyes in time to see her lick your arousal from the length of the toy. Her hand cupped you between your legs, fingers teasing. “Your pussy’s so wet you’ve soaked the sheets, I knew it.” Her grin was feral, like a cat after cornering a mouse. 

“Let me taste.” Cassian brought Nesta’s fingers to his lips and sucked lewdly. 

You were empty again and this time your whimper did not go unnoticed. “Does someone need their pussy filled?” Nesta pouted at you, her eyebrows raised. 

“Yes, yes, please - I - please,” you begged, the fog of your heat taking over your ability to think. All you could see was them, all you could feel and all that you wanted. 

Nesta turned you to face her, cradling your body into her chest. Instinctively, you licked at a rosy nipple, taking the bud into your mouth and sucking hard until Nesta gasped. 

“Good girl,” she soothed, petting the back of your head, “You’ll need to bite down on something when he pushes in.” Her hand hooked your thigh up over her hip, opening you up and then you felt the blunt, wide head of Cassian’s cock nudging at your entrance and - she was right. 

“Oh Gods,” you moaned, pushing your face further into Nesta’s chest, breath heaving as you adjusted to his size. 

“You’re doing so well.” She stroked your back over the curve of your bottom and then back up with her nails, soothing then scratching in turn. The mixture of pleasure and pain was enough to confuse your already addled brain and, before you could register it, Cassian was flush against your back, panting in your ear. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good on my cock, so tight.” He kissed behind your ear, the gentle gesture so at odds with the rough cant of his hips. “We’ll fuck you through this heat, don’t worry.” 

“I can- I can do it on my own,” You insisted meekly, meeting Nesta’s storm grey eyes. 

“Of course you can.” She bent and kissed you gentle. “You’re doing so well, getting through this heat. It’s okay to ask for help. We’ll help you, won’t we, baby?” 

“Of course we will,” Cassian grunted, his thrusts slow and steady but deep, so deep, so full. 

When their eyes met, Nesta mirrored Cassian’s smile, knowing and understanding and teasing and Alpha. They’d take care of you, you knew they would, and you’d be satisfied and satiated by the end but you would be theirs, there would be no arguing your way out of this. 

Your eyes rolled as Cassian hit a particularly delicious spot, sending shooting pleasure up your spine, “Gods, Cassian - I” 

“Come for him,” Nesta instructed and you couldn’t stop yourself, your body obeyed before your mind could argue, pleasure washing over you so fast you had to dig your nails into Nesta’s arms to hold on, so sure you’d be pulled along by it. 

You recovered slowly, floating in a daze of post coital bliss only to find yourself sat above Cassian, the general sprawled below you, his hair like a devilish halo on the white pillow cases and his handsome face contorted with pleasure. That deep ache was still inside, making you grind your clit down against him and it was then you realised he was still buried inside of you, his cock twitching with every movement of your hips. 

“You look so pretty when you come for us.” He held your hips in his hands, keeping you seated despite your surprised attempt at getting up. “You can’t pretend anymore.” 

Nesta’s hands joined Cassian’s, twining together to hold you down, her chin resting on your shoulder. How did she move like that, so silent and stealthy? “I know what you need now, you need to be fucked and filled, isn’t that right?” 

You keened, leaning back into her arms, allowing her hands to travel up to your breasts and circle your nipples again. 

“I said, isn’t that right?” Her hand moved over your collarbone, coming to rest at the base of your throat where her fingers pressed down on your pulse. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes - I - I need to be -,” you stuttered, still reluctant to give in to the omega side of you that really did need this, needed to have their body used and filled and be given pleasure. 

“Come on.” Cassian thrust up inside, his cock so deep you were sure you could see it in your belly.

“I need to be fucked and filled.” 

“Good girl.” Nesta rewarded you with a kiss to your cheek. “Now for the last part, you need to be fucked and filled, by…” 

“I need to be fucked and filled by my Alphas. Oh Gods, please, please, I need to move.” You ground your hips again and Cassian obliged, fucking up into you, his feet planted on the bed to keep him steady. 

Behind you, Nesta moved again, her fingers tracing down your spine and the scent of lavender oil filling the room. Her hands cupped your bottom, helping to lift and lower you onto Cassian’s cock, controlling each movement. Cassian’s hands covered hers, spreading you open and pulling you forwards so you were completely exposed to Nesta’s hungry gaze. 

“Such a pretty pussy.” She dipped her finger into the slick flowing over Cassian’s cock. You couldn’t stop the feel of it, dripping between you, easing the way for him. Her finger returned, circling the tight pucker of muscle Cassian’s exploring hands exposed. “Let’s see if we can fill you some more.” 

The first press of her fingertip felt strange, but as she curled and worked her finger deeper pleasure spread up from your back. She was right, it felt so good to be full, a second finger joined her first, scissoring until the pressure was gone and only pleasure remained. 

“Nesta - please,” you begged incoherently, unsure of what you even needed from her, chasing the feeling. 

“Shhh, sweetheart.” Her fingers were replaced by the still body warm head of the crystal toy. 

“Fuck, Nes, push it in harder.” Cassian gritted his teeth, his grip moving you lightly and then you both shouted in pleasure, the toy pushing against the thin wall separating it from his cock. 

“So full, so full, so ful,-” you babbled, much to Nesta’s amusement, her dark laugh in your ear had you clenching around the hard cocks inside of you. 

Cassian’s hand took over from Nesta’s keeping the toy inside and allowing you the freedom to grind down onto him again. 

Free to move, Nesta appeared before you. 

“There’s our little cock hungry omega, nice and full and satisfied.” She ran a finger around your open mouth before dipping it inside to tap your tongue. “Now you stay there,” she instructed, moving up the bed to hover over Cassian. 

“Yes, Nes, you come here. Been working so hard to take care of our little omega, come and sit down.” 

Cassian’s face vanished between Nesta’s thighs, the muscles tensing and relaxing as she lowered herself. You watched, fascinated, as her perfect face twisted with pleasure, the controlled look in her eyes and crooked smile gone. She closed her eyes, cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples as she’d done to yours. You ached to reach out and touch her, to lick the dusky bud again, to taste her and feel her, to run your fingers through her hair. 

Your hand twitched forwards, grabbing her thigh and squeezing. Nesta moaned in return, her eyes shooting open and locking with you while she rolled her hips, taking her pleasure from her mate, using his mouth and tongue until she bit her bottom lip and tipped her head back, panting and moaning through her release. 

She fell backwards onto the bed, resting her head on her arm and continuing to gently circle her nipple, riding the waves of her orgasm. 

You watched, catching Cassian’s eyes as he too turned to view his mate, her legs spread and wet pussy glistening in the candle light. With a tap to your hip, you reached up, releasing his cock with an obscene squelch, but you had no ability to be humiliated by your position, half full of her toy, crawling towards her as if possessed. Your own legs were so wet they slid as you moved and Cassian took the opportunity to nip at your thigh as you made your way to Nesta. 

She was smiling, long lashes fluttering on her cheeks as she rested, but she must have felt you approaching because she beckoned you on, cupping the back of your head and pulling you down for a sloppy kiss. 

Her long fingers gathered your slick, smearing it over your folds, your clit, back towards where the toy still split you open, and cupped your cheeks, parting them for Cassian. 

The male was behind you again and gave the toy a few experimental thrusts, revelling in the way you whimpered and moaned, depending on how he angled the head. You could practically feel his grin when he pressed a kiss to the base of your spine, nipping at the round globe of your ass and pulling the toy free, leaving it to roll off the bed onto the thick rug. 

You whined, completely empty and still needy, humping forwards into Nesta’s teasing hand, her kisses just as biting, just as harsh, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth and worrying the delicate flesh. 

Cassian’s voice was gravelly when he whispered in your ear, “Ask us nicely, omega. Ask us to fill your wet little cunt and your greedy hole.” 

“Please, please, fill me, please, fuck me!” you panted, hips moving of their own accord, seeking any friction they could find. 

Nesta cupped your cheek. “Open your eyes.” You obliged, meeting her own lust filled gaze. “Now beg.” 

You cried out in frustration, “Please, Alpha, please I need it, I need you, I can’t do it - help me - please - help me. Fuck me, please, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me-” You dropped your forehead to hers, pleading, praying. 

Then, you felt Cassian’s cock again, not parting your folds as he’d done before, but running it between your cheeks and pressing against the gap left by the crystal toy. 

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked again.

“Yes, Alpha, fuck me, take me, please, I need your cock - I need - ahh.” The first push was long and deep, he was merciless, splitting you open. 

“Gods, you feel good everywhere, ‘mega.” Cassian’s kisses returned, wet and hot along your shoulders. “Nesta -,” he grunted and the female slid her hand back between your legs, shoving three fingers into your already sloppy pussy without hesitation. 

“Look how well you take us, sweetheart. Letting your Alphas use all of your holes like a good little omega. Just a hole for us to fuck aren’t you?” she cooed, pinching your cheeks again. “Cassian’s been dying to fuck me like this for years, haven’t you?” He only grunted in answer, his pace increasing. You could barely breathe now, every inhale punched out of you by the force of his fucking. “But I wouldn’t let him. Good job we’ve got our own little plaything now. You take him so well, made for it, aren’t you?” she continued to tease and you burned with the humiliation of it, the deliciously dirty feeling of being spread open, used, vulnerable under their hands. And yet you had never felt pleasure like it, the complete surrender of your thoughts, your body, to your two Alphas. 

The thought had you tingling. Were they yours now? Were you theirs? 

Cassian’s pace slowed, his hips faltering as he hurtled towards his release. His long hair brushed against your cheek. “Never letting you go, omega. You’re ours now.” His teeth scrapped down the side of your neck and you shivered, making the decision in a split second, and tilting your head to the side. Cassian’s bite was strong, his teeth breaking your skin quickly before his tongue lapped over the sore spot. He nuzzled into you as he sucked the bruising kiss, inhaling your scent. 

Nesta reached up, guiding your head towards Cassian’s and exposing the other side of your throat before biting down too. Her claim was rougher, her teeth tasting, exploring before biting down and sucking. 

“Yours - yours - yours -” You allowed their claiming bites to consume you, to wash over your senses, and felt the calm of being mated rising to meet you, buoying you up. 

“Good little omega,” Nesta praised, tapping your cheek until you opened your eyes. Hers were surprisingly soft, her mouth wet and lips pink. 

“Such a good - fuck - good fucking omega, our omega,” Cassian grunted, sending you over the edge.

“Yours - yours - yours -” Your orgasm ran towards you and you clenched down on them both, forcing Nesta’s fingers out as your walls rippled. You bent and sucked on her collarbone, needing something, anything, to ground you. 

“Fuck -” Cassian followed, his hips driving forward, pushing you down further into Nesta’s chest and painting you with his release. His cock swelled, impossibly large and pressing against your entrance. His cum leaked around the edges of his knot, mixing with your own release in a sticky, claiming, mess. There’d be no denying your feelings now. 

He withdrew slowly, carefully, his hand cupping your swollen sex as he did and the gentleness of the touch surprised you. 

The three of you lay there, panting and sweating, slick soaked and satisfied until Cassian broke the silence. 

“Does this mean you’ll sleep in the damn bed now?” You turned into his chest, resting your face against his tattoos, and laughed, nodding. Behind you, Nesta curled over your back and smiled into your shoulder. 

“Good.”

[velarisnightsky444]

The 1

Cassian x Reader

AN: This is the first part of my song series. Based on The 1 by Taylor Swift. Listen while you read, if you'd like.

CW: just angst

Summary: You run into your ex in a bar in Velaris.

Word Count: 416

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You had been doing good. It'd been a year since the breakup that had nearly torn your heart out.

For months, you were seeing him everywhere you went, only to do a double take and realize it wasn't him.

But if you never bleed, you're never going to grow.

You had been dancing with your friends when he stepped into the tavern, a female at his side. You'd froze, concerning your friends.

"Ignore him," they'd told you.

But you couldn't. You kept your eyes on him as he brought the female over to a booth and sat by her side.

I thought of all the wonderful days and nights we had spent together. Days and nights he was now spending with this girl. She was just a girl. She couldn't have been more than 25.

You decided to go over to the bar and order a drink. Your friends tried to go with you, but you insisted they keep dancing.

You were taking a sip of your first drink when your eyes met across the room. His face fell as he gazed at you.

He mumbled something to the female before getting out of his seat. You groaned, praying to the Mother he wasn't coming over to you.

But the Mother never answered your prayers.

"Y/n," he said solemnly. "How have you been?"

"Fine," you mumbled, not turning to look at him. "Who's that?"

"Nesta Archeron," he explained.

You raised an eyebrow. You'd heard about her. Lady Death. You couldn't compete with that.

"She's beautiful," you said bitterly.

"Y/n--"

"We really were something," you cut him off. "Don't you think so?" A sigh left his lips.

"Yes, we were," he admitted. "But things don't always work out."

"They seem to have worked out just fine for you," you grumbled.

"Don't be upset with me for finding happiness," he pleaded. "I hate myself for hurting you, but it needed to be done."

"I'm not upset," you lied, finally looking at him. He was so beautiful. "I'm sorry I didn't make you happy."

"I didn't mean it like that," he promised.

"Just go," you said quietly. "Leave me alone."

He sighed, but turned to leave. Something that had been in your mind for the last year was tearing at you.

"Cassian," you said. He stopped, turning to you. "If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?"

"That I can't say," he confessed. "But I think everything will work out for you soon. Just wait, y/n. Be patient."

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Cassian Taglist:

General Taglist:

comment to be added to the taglists!

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[sjmprideweek]

@acourtofwhatthefuck has a Nesta fic called Strawberries and Cream 🥰

Oh how did I forget about this one?? 🍓🍓🍓

[shadowsingerdraco]

i’m sorry but i am literally so down bad for azriel and lidia cervos as a pairing (i know it doesn’t make sense but it does to ME!!)

[parkerslatte]

Different

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

Summary: Ever since Feyre arrived at Velaris, they have only ever known Azriel a stoic and mostly serious. But once his wife comes home, she sees a different side to him.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Feyre watched as Azriel stood by the window. His shadows moved over his shoulders and around his ear as if whispering something to him. The expression on Azriel’s face was his same neutral one that only ever seemed to change the smallest amount. And only ever in the presence of the Inner Circle and even then there would only be a small hint of a smile. 

It was late at night and everyone was enjoying a relaxing night with a few bottles of Rhys’s expensive alcohol. So far, Azriel hadn’t moved from his place at the window, his back was rigid as if he was expecting something, though that was the only indicator that he was. His face was his usual stoicism, giving nothing away. 

“Az, are you ever going to get away from that window anytime soon?” Cassian complained. 

Azriel turned his attention to Cassian and scowled. “I’m busy.”

“Not busy enough to spend time with the people you love,” Cassian teased. 

“Az, sit down, you won’t miss anything,” Rhys chimed in. 

With a final look through the window, Azriel walked over to the rest of the Inner Circle and sat in the armchair. His back was tense and he was not fully relaxed. Ever since Feyre had known him he had always been somewhat alert to everything. 

While everyone continues with the card game, Feyre couldn’t help but pay more attention to Azriel than to the game. Like Feyre, Azriel didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the game either. Instead he stared at the table in front of him completely lost in thought. 

Elain, who was sitting on the floor beside Mor, looked up to Azriel. “It’s your turn,” she said. 

“Oh,” Azriel said before picking a card out of his hand and placing it on top of the pile. 

“That isn’t a card you can even put on top,” Cassian complained. 

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? You change the rules when you’re losing anyway.”

“I do not!” Cassian exclaimed. “I take this game seriously.”

“Until you are losing,” Nesta mumbled under her breath. 

Cassian began to argue back, clearly becoming outnumbered in his argument. Feyre only watched on with amusement. 

However everything was quickly interrupted by a new voice, one Feyre had never heated before, cut through the argument. 

“I leave you all alone for a few years and everything goes to shit?” 

Everything goes silent as everyone stares at the beautiful female who had just entered the room. Before Feyre could even process everything, Azriel threw his cards back down on the table and rushed up to the female.

The female giggled in delight as Azriel’s arms wrapped around her and swung her around. Feyre looked at her two sisters, each of them held the same expression she did. Confusion. 

What shocked Feyre the most about the situation was the bright and wide smile stretching across Azriel’s face. She had only noticed now that he had dimples. 

“I missed you so much,” Azriel mumbled. 

“It has only been a few months for you,” the female replied. 

“That is too long for me. I always wish for you to be next to me,” Azriel replied and pressed his lips against the females. His arms circled her waist, making sure there wasn’t a single gap between their bodies. The female threaded her fingers through his hair, causing Azriel to sigh in delight. Feyre couldn’t help but feel surprised by this display of affection from Azriel. 

Feyre leaned back against Rhys. “Who is that?”

“Azriel’s mate and wife,” Rhys answered.

“What?” Feyre exclaimed. “None of you have ever mentioned her before.”

“That was Azriel’s decision,” Rhys replied, filling up his glass. “You see, Y/N works as a researcher all over the continent for me so she is rarely ever here so none of us can protect her. Azriel has made a lot of enemies over the years and if he were tied to her, she could be put in even more danger.”

“When was the last time they saw each other?” Elain interjected. 

“For Azriel a few months ago,” Rhys answered. “Those two weeks just before Solstice when Azriel wasn’t here, he was on the continent with her.”

Feyre watched as Azriel buried his head into Y/N’s  neck, holding her against him tightly. Feyre smiled at the sight. 

“It has been at least two years since the rest of us have last seen Y/N,” Cassian chimed in. “It would be nice of her to greet the rest of us.”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel to smile at everyone else. “Give me a break, Cass. If you were to go without a hug from your mate in a few months, you wouldn't be jumping to greet everyone else first.”

“She knows about us?” Nesta asked. 

Cassian nodded. “Whenever Azriel meets up with her, she always asks about you all. Apparently she has been excited to meet you all.” 

Feyre watched as Azriel and Y/N walked over to join the group. Azriel’s gaze never left Y/N for a single second. Feyre’s gaze shifted down to their joined hands. She hid her smile behind her glass. 

Y/N quickly greeted Rhys, Cassian and Mor with a hug and she gave a small nod to Amren. 

Azriel sat down on the armchair first and as Y/N was about to sit in the arm of it, Azriel pulled her down so she sat in his lap instead. His arms locked around her waist as his chin rested on her shoulder. Feyre was sure she had never seen him look so happy before, so at ease. The smile on his face was one Feyre had never seen. 

“It is great to finally meet you three,” Y/N said, her gaze flicking between Feyre, Nesta and Elain. “This one here,” she said, reaching to cup Azriel’s cheek, “has told me a lot about you.”

“It is great to meet you,” Feyre said with a smile. 

“So now that introductions have finished,” Cassian begins, “can we get back to the game now? I was about to win.”

“Is that because you changed the rules halfway through the game?” Y/N teased. 

Cassian rolled his eyes. “You know what, Y/N. I don’t think I missed you at all.”

Y/N chuckled. “We both know that’s a lie.”

Azriel laughed along with Y/N and placed a soft kiss to her shoulder. He looked completely different to the stoic and serious shadowsinger Feyre was used to. With Y/N, Azriel seemed like a completely different person. The tension had vanished from his body and his shadows, which were once sliding over his shoulders, were now caressing Y/N legs and arms. One of his hands caressed her thigh while the other threaded with hers. Feyre could see the goosebumps appear on Y/N’s skin wherever he caressed. 

Azriel whispered something into Y/N’s ear which caused her to turn to him, smiling wide, her lips hovering just above his. The glimmer in Azriel’s eyes was prominent as he looked at her. It was as if she hung the stars. There was so much love and tenderness in his eyes that it could only be described as something out of a romance novel. She had never seen him look so at ease before. It was if everything else had melted away and the only thing left was Y/N.

Feyre couldn’t help but feel giddy at the sight. 

“How long have they been mates for?” Feyre asked Rhys. 

“Nearly three hundred years,” Rhys replied, wrapping an arm around Feyre. “They have been married for longer, the bond snapped nearly fifty years after they were married.”

“They seem happy,” Feyre said, her eyes not shifting from where Azriel and Y/N sat. 

Rhys smiled at his two friends, friends he considered family. “They are. Azriel is always his happiest when Y/N is around. He always has been ever since they met.”

“Why does she go away for long periods of time?” Feyre questioned. “It feels like torture when I’m away from you for too long. I cannot imagine being mates to someone for three hundred years and only being able to see them every few months.”

“That is the way it has been through their whole relationship,” Rhys explains. “They both knew what each other did for a job and neither of them wanted the other to give it up.” 

“How long is she back for this time?” Feyre asked. 

“I hadn’t asked,” Rhys said. “But I have a small feeling she will be here for a while this time.”

Feyre frowned. “How so?”

“Because if I know anything about Y/N, it is that she would never decline a glass of my finest wine and so far she has declined every glass Mor has offered her,” Rhys observed. 

Feyre looked at Rhys excitedly. “Does that mean—?”

Rhys smiled. “They haven’t said anything so I assume that they wish to keep the news between them for a little while longer.”

Feyre smiled over at Y/N and Azriel. She caught Y/N’s eye. The beautiful female only sent a wink Feyre’s way, a clear indication that she had overheard her and Rhys’s conversation. 

“Az, it’s your turn,” Nesta said. 

Azriel throws all of his cards onto the table. “I think I am done for the night.”

Cassian groaned . “Really?”

“Really,” Azriel said. “I want to spend time with my gorgeous mate and wife.”

Cassian chuckled. “That is only an excuse because you are losing,” the general teased. 

Azriel rolled his eyes and swooped Y/N up in his arms. Her arms locked around his neck. “If you need us— actually don’t even try to contact us at all.”

Y/N threw her head back and laughed as Azriel carried her out of the room. Feyre could hear them laughing loudly even when the door was firmly closed behind them. Feyre leaned into Rhys and linked her fingers with his.

“I am happy for them,” Feyre said, her eyes staring at the door where Azriel and Y/N had left. 

Rhys kissed the top of Feyre’s head. “Me too.”

[flowersforjude]

𝐓𝐨 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Azriel x Fem Archeron!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | In your struggle to adapt to your new existence, the Night Court's shadowsinger takes it upon himself to offer his quiet comfort.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2,537

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Mentions of reader in the Cauldron, Anxiety, Depersonalization, Sweet Az, Fluff, Emotional hurt/comfort, Hints at reader and Az being mates. 

𝐀𝐮��𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I’m only half way through the 2nd book so I apologize for any mistakes or inaccuracies. I have a pretty good idea of what happens in the rest of the series, I just haven’t read it yet. Azriel is quickly becoming a favorite, though, so I just had to write something for him. He might be a bit ooc.

masterlist

It was the twilight hour at the House of Wind. The atmosphere was dense and strangling, a tension sitting in the air so turbulent one wrong breath could shatter the carefully constructed peace. Azriel and Cassian certainly had their hands full. Neither of the males able to dispel the strain. Rhysand was sequestered away you knew not where, leaving his brothers with the responsibility of navigating the fractured states of you and your sisters.

You sat near the window of your room, your hands curled tightly in your lap, trying to ignore the suffocating weight of everything you couldn’t fix. Couldn’t feel. Couldn’t understand.

Nesta’s sharp voice echoed faintly down the corridor, cutting through the heavy silence that pressed on your ears. Elain’s quiet sorrow was just as palpable, an ache that you didn’t have the strength to soothe, even if you wanted to. 

And you? You were drowning. Over and over again, feeling your humanity being ripped from you. Clawed away and shredded into the withering pain that tore across your skin. Never able to take in an easy breath because each intake of air felt like the Cauldron’s scorching water was invading your lungs. It turned to lead inside you, dragging you down down down into the blackened depths. 

You had come out transformed into someone, something, you didn’t recognize. You were fragmented, frayed, and whatever pieces were left of you no longer seemed to fit. 

The knock at your door startled you, a soft sound, almost hesitant, like whoever stood on the other side wasn’t sure they were welcome. You didn’t respond aloud—what would you say?—but something about the silence must have been answer enough because the door creaked open.

It was Azriel.

Of course, it was him. He always seemed to know when to appear, not with the smooth certainty of someone who could fix everything, but with the quiet persistence of someone who couldn’t walk away. His presence made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t understand, a weight and a warmth all at once.

He carried a tray of food, though his hands, so steady normally, looked almost awkward now. His shadows trailed at his feet, curling along the floor like restless whispers, and for a moment, you wondered if they’d been listening to you earlier. To the broken sounds you hadn’t meant for anyone to hear. Was that why he was here now?

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice low, rough, like the question cost him something to ask.

You blinked at him, unsure how to respond. How were you feeling? Empty? Heavy? Nothing and everything all at once? You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of such a simple question when the answer was anything but. Instead, you shrugged, the motion barely more than a flicker of movement.

Azriel shifted, the tray now resting on the table beside you. He flexed his hands at his sides as if he didn't know what to do with them now. His large wings were folded low at his back like he was attempting to make them less noticeable.

Is he doing that for me? To not…frighten me, perhaps?

He didn’t sit, didn’t move closer, but his presence filled the room, steady and quiet and infuriatingly unshakable. His gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long before he looked away, his jaw tightening.

You shifted in place on the window seat, folding your hands in your lap to keep from picking at the skin around your nails. It was a nervous habit you'd had all your human life, and it seemed to have followed you into your new fae existence. To be frank, the habit had gotten worse since your ordeal in the Cauldron. You were antsy, jumpy, and nervous all the time now. 

"I'm fine." You finally said in a small whisper. You felt the embarrassment creep in as you spoke. It was only two words, but it felt like it was more than you'd spoken at all since you were shoved into that dreadful, life-altering vessel. Your voice wasn't as strong as it used to be; you weren’t as strong as you used to be. Not even with your newfound abilities. Sure, you were more graceful than before, your now pointed ears could hear a bit better than before, and your skin seemed to shine like starlight, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were a great deal more fragile now.

Especially when Azriel stood before you. The Illyrian male was the very definition of strength. You couldn't fathom why he was here right now, checking on you. But some deep, deep part of you, a part that felt as if it hadn't been there before the Cauldron, was practically beaming at his presence. It warmed inside you and sang into your mind, telling you to reach out for him. That even brushing briefly against his tanned skin would bring you lifetimes of comfort. It was absurd.

You really are losing your mind.

Azriel shifted, the gentle scrape of his boots against the floor pulling you from the spiraling thoughts threatening to consume you. His wings twitched, an almost imperceptible movement, but you caught it. You’d noticed that before, how you were always so aware of his every movement. You caught everything he did, each subtle sound and flicker of motion. It was overwhelming sometimes, this heightened awareness of him. Yet another thing you didn’t understand.

He cleared his throat softly, drawing your gaze back to him. “You don’t have to say you’re fine,” he murmured, his voice a blend of rough honesty and something more delicate, something that felt like understanding. “You don’t have to say anything at all.”

The warmth in your chest flared again, unbidden and unrelenting. You swallowed against it, against the strange pull that seemed to tether you to him, as if some invisible thread had bound itself around your heart and was now tugging mercilessly. It was maddening. You didn’t want to feel this way—this need, this want for something you couldn’t even name.

Azriel’s words settled in the room like a fragile thread, the kind that could snap with just the breath of the wrong response. He didn’t move, didn’t look at you fully, but you felt his focus anyway, sharp and unwavering. His presence was a steady hum in the background of your awareness, grounding and yet deeply unsettling at the same time.

“I…” you started, the sound so faint it barely carried between you. Your throat felt tight as if you were drowning all over again, your words caught somewhere between your chest and lips. You wanted to speak, to tell him something, anything, to fill the suffocating silence. But you didn’t know what to say. The pieces of yourself that once knew how to converse, how to be normal, felt like they had dissolved into the Cauldron’s depths, leaving you raw and exposed.

He didn’t push. He simply waited, patient as ever, his shadows coiling and shifting in the corners of the room like uneasy sentinels. They didn’t feel intrusive, strangely enough. If anything, they were like him—watchful, protective, and respectful of boundaries you couldn’t yet define.

Finally, you managed to meet his gaze, though it felt like an act of courage to do so. “I don’t know how to feel…or how to be anymore,” you admitted, the words tumbling out in a quiet, cracked rush. You hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t planned on baring even this sliver of yourself to him, but it was the truth. And something about him, about the calm compassion in his eyes, made it impossible not to say.

His expression didn’t change, not noticeably, but something about the set of his shoulders eased. “You’re hurting,” he said gently, as if he’d been expecting your answer all along. “And that is alright.”

The simplicity of his statement made your chest ache, an ache that felt strangely like relief. You turned your gaze back to your lap, your fingers twitching against one another as you fought the urge to fidget further. “It’s just…everything feels wrong,” you confessed. “Like I’m still in there, like I’m still falling, and I’ll never hit the ground.”

You felt him stiffen at your disparaging words. Saw his shadows twist the least bit closer to you, as if even they wanted to offer you some sort of solace. His voice came soft and steady, like the first breeze after a storm. “I’ve felt that way before,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his tone striking like a sudden chord in the quiet. “Like I’d been untethered, and there was no ground left to find.”

His raw honesty caught you off guard, forcing you to search for his gaze again. Nothing could have prepared you for the earnestness you not only saw in his eyes, but it also dripped from him like water. You couldn’t picture Azriel being anything but sure and unyielding. But in the same moment, you felt beholden to him for sharing such a piece of himself just to comfort you. 

The continuous tightness in your lungs lessened just a fraction, enough to allow you to take your first easy breath in weeks. “Does it ever go away?”

“Not entirely,” he said almost regretfully. Your heart sank a bit, but before you could fall completely into despair, he added, “But it does get easier.

Your words left you once more, your mind reeling with the idea of fighting this for the rest of your life. A life that would now be centuries long.

It was no surprise that he caught the shudder of dejection that crossed your face. His shadows curled closer to you like a soothing veil of darkness. Their movement was almost hypnotic, easing in the strange way you’d begun to associate with them. Azriel’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes lingered on you in a watchful manner. He glanced at the open cushion beside you. “May I?” he asked softly, his voice low and warm, though it carried an edge of uncertainty like he wasn’t sure if he was overstepping some invisible line. 

You didn’t even have to think about it before you were nodding. “Of course,” you murmured, trying not to sound too eager.

Azriel moved carefully, lowering himself onto the seat next to you. The space was narrow, and you became acutely aware of how close he was—his knee brushing lightly against yours, the faint scent of cedar and night air surrounding him. You tried to focus on your hands folded tightly in your lap, but the warmth radiating from him was impossible to ignore.

“It won’t always feel like this,” he said gently, his voice hushed and certain. “The weight you’re carrying—it changes. It becomes something you can hold, something you can live with. You’ll find your footing again.”

The conviction in his words floated to you like a lifeline. The way he looked at you, soothing and steadfast, made you feel like you had no choice but to believe him. You nodded more to yourself than to him. Silence settled in the room again, but with him beside you, it felt easier to endure than before. For the first time you didn’t feel the need to fill the quiet with something. It was simply enough to sit there with him and let his company anchor you. 

The wisp of something against your arm pulled your attention. The faint brush on your arm was barely noticeable at first, like the lightest touch of silk on your skin. When you glance down, one of Azriel’s shadows glides towards you, curious and tentative. It swirls near your wrist, its edges soft and flickering like the flame of a candle, before retreating as if it was testing the waters. 

You laughed slightly. “Do they always do that?” You asked softly, unable to keep the awe from your voice. The shadow seemed almost alive, sentient in a way that both mesmerized and unsettled you.

Azriel followed your gaze to the shadow, his expression lightened in a way you hadn’t expected. “Not always.” He divulged, his tone carrying something akin to fondness. “They’re curious about you.”

You tilted your head at him, your brows furrowing. “Me?”

“They’re drawn to certain people,” he explained, his voice low and even, as though sharing a closely guarded secret. “They can sense things others can’t.”

The shadow flickered closer again, this time brushing along your hand in a more eager manner. You couldn’t help but smile faintly, the sensation strangely soothing. “They’re not what I expected,” you said, your voice still so as to not scare the shadow.

Azriel tilted his head slightly, his eyes seeming to search you for something. “What did you expect?”

“I’m not sure.” You confessed, glancing at him. “Something harsher maybe.”

“They can be,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “When they need to be.”

You looked at him fully then, the true meaning behind his words sparking comprehension in your mind. There was a deeper depth to his shadows, a duality that mirrored their master. You wondered if he’d been born with them. If he had grown with them. Or if they had been birthed from pain, from the darkness he carried with him that hadn’t always been there. “They feel safe.” The words slipped out before you could think them through. 

Azriel’s eyes glimmered with something you couldn’t quite name, some sort of longing. “They’re meant to be,” he said simply, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. You could hear the unspoken words he didn’t say, though. He was holding something back. 

The space between you seemed to get smaller and smaller, his warmth wrapping around you like a second skin. You became dangerously aware of how close you were—of the brush of his knee against yours, the way his wings shifted slightly behind him, almost grazing your shoulder. Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, suddenly self-conscious.

Azriel took note; of course he did. His eyes lingered on you, his expression bordering on hunger. But it was gone and replaced by neutrality as soon as it came. Though, you could still feel the weight of his attention. His shadows danced along your wrist again, and you wondered if they could sense the fluttering beat of your pulse. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice rougher now, tinged with something that almost sounded like desperation. 

“You didn’t,” you replied quickly, your voice shaky but earnest.

The moment lingered between you, fragile yet thrumming with something so strong. The potency of it forces you to grapple with everything you felt for him. His shadows swirled around you softly, their movements calmer now, almost languid. You thought he might say something, that the weight in his expression would finally take shape in words, but he didn’t. Instead, he shifted ever so slightly, his arm brushing yours. You leaned into him and felt that warmth in your chest thrill at the closeness.

Something unknown, something that could wait to be explored, hummed between you. And you didn’t realize it right away, but the Cauldron’s waters felt farther away than they had in weeks.

Kind of playing with an idea for a part two with some moments leading up to them finding out they're mates.