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serpentandlily · 1 year ago

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Untouchable V - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst, suggestive situations

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part V

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Not when she was wearing those leathers that clung to her frame, highlighting her body from head to toe. Not when she had her wings out, her beautiful, magnificent wings.

She was so effortlessly stunning. The most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He knew no one would ever come close. No one had ever quite captured his attention like she had. His own personal forbidden fruit.

Every night he thought of her as he touched himself, of what it might feel like to have her, to claim her as his. The noises he would draw out of her. How beautiful she would look with a flushed face and swollen lips.

And every morning he thought of what it might be like to wake up with her in his arms, for her beautiful smile to be the first thing he saw every day. He wanted that more than anything, more than even sex. He just wanted her.

A large hand clamping down on his shoulder jostled him from his thoughts. Cassian stood next to him, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop now,” he murmured under his breath. “Rhys looks seconds away from murdering you.”

Azriel’s eyes flashed towards his High Lord, now noticing the piercing stare directed his way. Fuck. Had he been so obvious? He needed to get a hold of himself. It had gotten harder and harder to ignore his feelings for Rhys’s sister after she had confessed to feeling the same way about him.

His eyes went back to watching the female Illyrians go through their training exercises. That's what they were here for after all. To check on their progress. Not to ogle at the High Lord's sister in her tight, enticing leathers.

"He acts like her godsdamn father," Azriel hissed, unable to stop himself.

Cassian gave him a troubling look. "He practically is, Az. He had to raise her himself since she was thirteen."

"And?" Azriel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's not thirteen anymore."

"Yeah, I can tell you've noticed," Cassian bit back, crossing his own arms as he stared at his friend. Azriel felt like rolling his eyes. It was enough dealing with Rhys and his overprotective nature. He didn't need Cassian to join.

"Oh, fuck off. I'm just pointing out how ridiculous he is when it comes to her. She's nearly three-hundred. Do you remember all the shit we got up to at that age?"

"No, I won't fuck off," Cassian snarled, unusually serious for once. "You're walking a very fine line, brother. It doesn't matter how old she is. He will always see her as that thirteen year old girl he found covered in their own mother's blood in the snow.”

“I was there too you know,” Azriel muttered, darkly. “I was the one that found them, the one that scared off Tamlin’s father and brothers.”

Cassian’s eyes softened. “I know, Az. I know. And I know how much Rhys thanks the Mother every day for that. But we made a promise to him, remember?”

Azriel scoffed. Of course he remembered. That day would always haunt him. He hadn’t even known at the time what exactly he had been giving up.

“What are you trying to insinuate, Cass?” He glared at his brother. He could feel his shadows getting riled up behind him—a reflection of his mood.

“I know you, Az. And I know that look on your face. You want to get your dick wet—go find some other female to stick it in,” Cassian murmured under his breath. “Stay away from Rhys’s sister. He might love you like a brother but he won’t hesitate to rip your throat out if you touch her, if you hurt her in some way.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Azriel replied, his face slipping back into a cold mask, his voice flat as he stared down Cassian.

But Cassian only shook his head at him, patted him on the shoulder, and walked away, muttering a small prayer to the Mother under his breath.

Azriel went back to observing the Illyrian females. If Rhys was so fucking concerned about him messing with his sister, than he could excuse him from his duty as her guard.

Besides, none of it mattered. As long as that tattoo was on his body, it didn’t matter how he felt. He couldn’t touch her. And she would never be his.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ever since that night in the study, you and Azriel had kept your interactions to the bare minimum. He was still your personal guard, which meant you couldn’t just stop seeing or talking to him while doing business in Hewn City. But the wound was still fresh, your heart was still aching, so it hurt just to be around him.

You had put off answering the Prince in hopes that Azriel would start making sense, would give up on whatever weird notion he had in his mind that he couldn’t act on his feelings for you. But he had offered you no more answers to the millions of questions you had. Had refused to even discuss it any further, so there was nothing you could do but move on.

Which is why you and the majority of your family were in Vallahan. Rhys and Prince Cedric had exchanged some correspondence back and forth and while you weren’t accepting any marriage proposals any time soon, you weren’t completely opposed to getting to know Cedric more.

So the Prince had invited you, your brother and a few of his courtiers to visit King’s Cross in Vallahan as his esteemed guests. Rhysand had brought along Feyre, of course, Azriel, Cassian and Nesta. Since Mor was already familiar with the faeries here, she had stayed back with Amren to run the Night Court while you guys were away.

Elain has also stayed back to watch over baby Nyx in Velaris with Nuala and Cerridwen. Some of the Valkyries had agreed to act as guards for the River House as well, to ease Rhys and Feyre’s minds. It was the first time they were leaving Nyx for longer than a day. But they didn’t want to bring him into foreign territory—especially not one across the seas.

You had just finished getting ready for the first formal dinner here, deciding on wearing something from the Night Court instead of something in Vallahan fashion. You didn’t want the Prince getting any ideas that you had made up your mind.

The dress you put on was a dark, midnight blue. It fell to the floor, two slits on either side to show off your legs. The top was cut into a deep v and ended right below your breasts, connected to the skirt with leather straps that criss-crossed over your stomach.

You left your hair down and opted for minimal makeup. Just the usual kohl around your eyes and a dark red lip oil. You looked at yourself one more time before stepping out of your room and into the quiet corridor.

Azriel was already waiting for you, leaning against the wall opposite in his black Illyrian leathers. His expression was dark, his hair tousled with some pieces falling on his forehead. He looked up at you as your door closed shut behind you. You watched his eyes trail over your form, bringing some color to your cheeks.

You started making your way towards the dining chambers, Azriel following a pace behind you as your official guardian. You felt his shadows caress your thighs, cascade down to your feet. You clenched your fists in frustration.

“You cannot deny me and still try to have some claim over me,” you hissed under your breath. “Take your shadows back, Az.”

“I am your guard.” You heard his dark voice from behind you. “And they are simply helping me. It is for your protection, Princess.”

You whirled around at him with a glare. “That’s bullshit and you know it!”

He stared at you with that cold, unfeeling face that only riled you up further. “You can think what you want, Princess. But I am only doing my job.”

You stalked towards him, pushing him back with a finger to his chest. “Send them away. Now.”

“No.”

You released a noise of frustration and pushed him against the wall. “I mean it, Azriel. I’m done playing your stupid games. Call your shadows off.”

“You’ve never had a problem with them before. Why now?” He stared down at you, unflinching. He flipped you so it was you pressed against the wall now. “It is for your safety so you will deal with it.”

“I hate you,” you growled, pounding a fist against his chest weakly. It was one of the biggest lies to ever come from your mouth but Gods, you were just so frustrated.

Azriel leaned down, his hair brushing against your temple. “Hate me all you want, Princess. But if being your guard is the only way to keep you close to me, then I will be the best damn guard in all of Prythian so your brother has no choice but to let me stay near you. The shadows stay.”

“You won’t have me but you won’t let me go,” you whimpered. “How is that fair, Azriel? You said you don’t want to hurt me but this…this is far worse than you rejecting me and moving on.”

“Because I can’t stay away from you,” he hissed back. “I can’t stay away from you, Princess, no matter how hard I try.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest and you opened your mouth to shout at him, to scream and cry and demand he leave you alone but another voice cut you off.

“What’s going on over here?”

You both froze as your brother’s voice traveled down the corridor. You turned your head to see him standing at the end of the hallway next to Feyre, his arms crossed as he stared intently at Azriel, who immediately took a step away from you.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the weird tension between the two males. “My earring got caught in my hair,” you lied. “Azriel was helping me untangle it.”

Rhysand didn’t look convinced but he finally looked at you. His face softened and he held out his free arm, the one not linked with his mate. “Come, little dove, walk with me.”

You scurried past Azriel, not sparing him a glance, and took your brother’s arm, letting him escort you to dinner.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You tried to suppress your yawn but it had been another hour of being dragged around the castle by the Prince and you were so tired. He seemed happy to give you a tour, a tour you swore you had already taken the first time you were here, so you obliged him. But now you just wanted to go back to your chambers, take a nice warm bath, and go to sleep.

Your family departed from Vallahan two days ago, after spending three days here. You had extended your trip to the end of the week by the Prince’s request. Part of you did it to spite Azriel who seemed to detest Cedric and the other, miniscule part of you was genuinely curious about the Prince. But he was turning out to be a total bore. Nice, but dull. He lacked the sort of dry wit you liked in others. He was also extremely soft—too soft. As if he had never had to fight for anything in his life.

“Are you tired, Princess?” Cedric asked, noting your yawn. Before you could even answer the question yourself, he continued. “I only have one last area to show you. I promise I saved the best for last.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile. “Okay, lead the way.”

He extended his arm out to you and you placed your hand in the crevices of his elbow. He led you out of the library he had just been showing you back into the hallway. Azriel trailed behind you, along with one of the Prince’s personal guards, Lasos. Cedric had insisted that the pair of you didn’t need guards whilst together, but Azriel had swiftly rejected that notion and Lasos had joined after realizing that Azriel wasn’t going to let you two be alone.

You didn’t care. If Azriel wanted to be a brooding asshole, then you would let him. You weren’t forcing him to watch Cedric court you, he was doing it all on his own. And maybe you had acted a little extra flirty with the Prince just to rub it in Azriel’s face. If he didn’t want you as his own, then he would have to watch you be with another.

“This is the Queen’s quarters,” Cedric announced as he came to a stop in front of two large double doors. “This is where my future wife would live.”

“The Queen lives separate from the King?” you questioned as he pushed the doors open, revealing a lavish sitting area. The walls and floor were made of white marble like the rest of the castle, gold embellishments decorating the interior.

“If she chooses to,” Cedric smiled. “This is simply a space for her to have all to her own, to use for whatever she wishes. There is a similar area in the main castle where my parents live. My mother uses it as a music room.”

“That’s lovely,” you replied with a bow of your head.

Cedric went to close the doors before either guard could enter, but Azriel quickly stuck a hand out and stopped him with a glare. “It is improper to be behind closed doors with an unwed female,” he growled.

You wanted to roll your eyes. Since when the hell did the Night Court ever care about that? Cedric’s eyebrows rose but he gave the shadowsinger a nod. “Of course, my apologies.”

You turned your back to them, not interested in watching them have another one of their dick measuring contests. It had been like that the whole week so far. Instead you walked towards the window on the other side of the room that overlooked the gardens.

You nearly jumped in fright as two hands ghosted over your waist and a sudden presence was behind you. It wasn’t the first time the Prince had touched you, but it certainly was the most intimate. You had occasionally brushed hands, shared a kiss on the cheek, perhaps walked too close together, and shared some charged looks in the past couple days.

“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” Cedric asked, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

You blushed a bit at his closeness, swallowing before answering him. “Yes, the gardens here are gorgeous.”

“Not quite as beautiful as you, though,” Cedric whispered, moving your hair to one shoulder. Your eyes widened as he pressed a soft kiss against your neck. And then another. His lips brushed against your ear and you gasped. “Never quite as beautiful as you, Princess.”

“Prince Cedric,” you mumbled. “We are not alone.”

He twisted you in his arms until you were facing him, his bright blue eyes sparkling. “Lasos is my most trusted guard. I can assure you he won’t speak a word of our transgressions.”

You peaked at the male in question from over Cedric’s shoulder. Lasos had already turned around, his back facing the two of you. But then you looked at Azriel to see him intently staring at you, anger in his eyes. You were reminded of a time like this only a few weeks ago. Except it had been you watching Azriel and Elain.

So when Cedric asked, “What about your guard? Do you trust him to keep your secrets?” You smiled as you continued to stare at Azriel, whose anger was morphing into rage and whispered back, “Yes.”

And let the Prince crash his lips against yours.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You hummed to yourself as you brushed your hair, sitting at the vanity in your guest room. You were surprisingly feeling a bit more light after your time with the Vallahan Prince. You two hadn’t gone any further than kissing, especially considering you were never truly alone, but it felt nice to be wanted by someone. You were a bit sad that your time here was coming to an end.

Soon you’d be back home. Back to reality.

You set down the brush and stared at your reflection in the mirror with a sigh. You weren’t sure what you were going to do if Azriel started up again with Elain. You had no idea if what he had told you was true because everything he had said to you that night had only confused you. In the few weeks since then, you hadn’t noticed them together but you didn’t exactly go looking for them—not wanting to see something that would further hurt you.

He still made no sense to you. You had seen the way he looked at you, watched you, like a starved male. Seen the anger on his face every time the Prince so much as brushed his hand against yours. His behavior was just so confusing.

You would be returning to the Night Court tomorrow after sharing one last meal with the Prince and his courtiers. You wondered if he would ask you then, about his marriage proposal. Neither of you had brought it up in the time you had been here but you hadn’t forgotten. But you didn’t want a marriage that felt like a contract. You wanted to marry someone you loved.

And you did love someone…just not the Prince. But perhaps you could.

Your eyes focused on the mirror in front of you as you noticed darkness forming in the corner of the room behind you…no, not darkness. Those were shadows. They whirled in a frenzy, spreading into your room.

And then there was Azriel, stepping out from them. His face was cut from stone, his hazel eyes darkened, his hair in disarray. But there was something different about him now…a heavy resolve in his eyes. You gasped and stood, spinning around to face him.

“Azriel, what are you doing here?” you breathed out.

He said nothing as he stormed towards you, his wings spread out behind him. Gods, he looked like a fallen angel. A creature of the night. So beautiful, but so lethal. You braced yourself against the vanity behind you.

“Has Prince Cedric won over your heart then?” he asked, his voice as dark as his shadows. He didn’t stop until he stood right before you, so close you had to angle your head back to look at him.

“What?” You were so confused. What was he doing in your room? Why was he asking about Cedric?

“Has the Prince won your heart, y/n?” He asked again. “It’s a simple question.”

Your eyes narrowed at his tone. “Don’t come barging into my room and act like an asshole. I don’t see why you’re so concerned about me and Cedric. It’s none of your business.”

“It is my business,” he growled. “As your guard—”

“Oh please,” you snapped. “Me and you both know you’re not asking me about this because you’re my guard.”

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Then as your friend—”

“Is that what we are, Azriel? Friends?” You scoffed. “I don’t think you want to be my friend.”

“Just answer the godsdamn question,” he snarled, ignoring your remark. “And for fuck’s sake, stop letting these males put their godsdamn hands all over you.”

“No,” you bit back, poking him in the chest. “This shit needs to stop. You know how I feel about you. You know and you’re the one who says we can’t be together. So stop acting like you have some claim to me, Azriel.”

“Do you think I’m happy about that?” Azriel growled. “Do you think I’m thrilled to fucking want you all the time and not be able to have you, to claim you as mine?”

A few frustrated tears escaped down your cheeks. “I offered myself to you. I was ready to give you everything, Azriel. My heart, my body, my mind. And you are the one who rejected me.”

Azriel grabbed the sides of your face and rested his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavily. “You make this so hard when you say shit like that. Please, tell me you hate me again. Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I-I can’t,” you cried out. “Gods, I wish I didn’t. I wish I didn’t feel anything for you. Why are you doing this to me, Azriel? Why?”

His eyes shut, his forehead still resting against yours. “Because…Because you’re Rhys’s sister. I can’t…We can’t cross that line, Princess. He’ll kill me.”

“I am not just Rhys’s sister,” you argued. “I am my own person, with my own wants, with my own dreams. That is a bullshit excuse, Azriel. Rhys will understand. I will make him.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighed. But he stepped even closer, pressing his body against yours, pinning you to the vanity behind you. His leathers were rough against your silk nightgown, and your body sang at his touch.

“No, I don’t,” you breathed out, closing your own eyes. His scent was so intoxicating; his presence so overwhelming. You couldn’t think this close to him. Couldn’t focus on anything but your desperate need for him. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Azriel. To us. You said you never wanted to hurt me but can’t you see how much you are by doing this? By telling me you want me as much as I want you but denying us the chance to be together? Can’t you see how much it hurts me.”

“I don’t care anymore, Princess. I don’t care if it hurts you as much as it hurts me,” Azriel growled. “I’m done trying to be a better male. I can’t watch you be with other males, can’t watch them put their filthy hands all over you. Not when I want you as my own.”

Your eyes blinked open, staring into the hazel ones already watching you. You could see the pain behind his own eyes, the longing, the want. They were a mirror to your own.

“So have me,” you whispered.

You saw the break in his resolve just a second before Azriel crashed his lips into yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you were stunned but as soon as you realized what was happening, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He moaned against your mouth, one of his hands sliding up the back of your neck into your hair as he deepened the kiss, so full of passion, so full of love.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, fire lit its course through your veins. Kissing Azriel was everything you had dreamed of and more. It felt perfect…it felt right. Like everything in the world had disappeared and it was just you and him.

His hard arousal pressed into your stomach and you gasped at the feeling. He used it as an opportunity to flick his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, with a groan. His other hand slid down to your waist and to the backside of your thigh. He lifted you with one arm as if you weighed nothing and placed you on the edge of your vanity. The bottles of lip oils, the pots of kohl, all clattered to the floor as it shook under you at his ferocity.

His hand slid back to your waist, yanking you closer to him as he pressed himself between your legs. You moaned into his kiss, electricity licking your skin. Azriel let out a growl at the noise you made, his lips pulling away to begin tracing kisses along your jaw, down your neck. You tossed your head to the side, granting him more access as one of your hands slipped into his hair.

His nose grazed the column of your neck as he took a deep inhale, soaking in the sweet smell of you. “Say it again. Tell me you want this.”

“I want this, Azriel,” you breathed out, panting. “I want you. Have me. I’m yours.”

He let out a low growl at your words and sank his teeth into your neck, at the spot of your pulse pounding. You gasped and his lips were on yours again. He let out an almost pained grunt, slipping his hand up your nightgown to grip the soft skin of your thigh. His hard length pressed against your clothed core and sent another wave of electricity up your body.

He groaned again, his grip on you tightening. His fingers were digging into your skin, his other fisting your hair so tightly it caused a small whimper to leave your lips. The pain and pleasure mixed together to create a feeling you wished would never end. But then Azriel grunted again, his hold on you so forceful, you couldn’t help but wince.

He pulled away from you with a pained groan. Your eyes shot open to see the male before you grimacing in pain. Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Azriel…Azriel, what’s wrong?”

His teeth clenched, the veins in his arms protruding like he was trying to fight against something. You slid off the vanity to stand, running a soothing hand down his arm. That only seemed to make things worse and he crumbled to the floor with another grunt of pain. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs as he pressed his forehead against them, cursing.

“Fuck,” he groaned in pain.

You knelt on the floor in front of him, grabbing his face with your hands. “Azriel, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

His hands covered your own and gently pried them off his face.

“This…is…why,” he managed to ground out through gritted teeth, “why we can’t do this.”

Your arms hung limp at your sides. “Azriel, I don’t understand. What’s happening?”

He let out a painful sigh and sat back on his haunches, lifting his shirt up. You stared at him in confusion before your eyes fell to his bare chest, tracing over the Illyrian tattoos that curled around until you noticed another, smaller tattoo. Not an Illyrian one. But a…bargain tattoo?

“Azriel? Is that a bargain tattoo?” you breathed out, bewildered. He nodded in answer. “I don’t get it. Why are you showing me that?”

“Your brother,” he grunted out.

“My brother what?” Your eyes flickered back and forth between his own, trying to understand.

“He forced us…”

He trailed off and your eyes darkened. “Forced you to what?”

“Me and Cassian,” he finally said, hanging his head down. “Years after, when you…when you finally matured, I think your brother saw the change in how I looked at you. I think he grew suspicious of my feelings towards you…and he didn’t like that, y/n. You were still just a kid to him…you’ll always be, Princess. And he made me and Cassian promise him that we would never touch you in that way, that anytime we touched you with less than innocent intentions, we would feel the pain of a thousand blades striking down on us.”

Your mouth dropped open, your eyes falling back to the tattoo on the side of his hip. At the Illyrian wings with a blade running down the center of them. Your brother had…What the fuck had your brother done?

“Cassian agreed without any hesitation, Princess,” Azriel continued, his voice full of sadness and regret. “And I knew if I didn’t, your brother’s suspicions would prove true. I knew he’d kick me to the curb, toss me out, if I didn’t. And I thought it was just a crush, something I could get over. So I agreed. But Gods, y/n, I’ve regretted that day ever since. Because it wasn’t just a crush. My feelings for you never went away. Which is why I tried to hide them in others.”

“I-I…” you choked out, unable to form words. This was the last thing you had expected. You knew your brother was protective over you…but to make his friends form an official bargain with him. “So you can’t touch me without…without…”

“Without feeling one of the worst pains I’ve ever known. He made you untouchable, y/n. To us. To me and Cass. It's why I tried to push you away, tried to make you think I wanted others. I couldn’t give you what you wanted, what I wanted.”

“There has to be a way to undo this, Az,” you whispered. “Maybe I can convince my brother to release you from it—”

“It doesn’t work like that, Princess, you know it doesn’t,” Azriel sighed. “Besides, he would never agree. If he knew I tried to touch you like I have tonight, he would sooner stick a dagger through my heart than ever allow you to be with me.”

“I will make him see how wrong he was for doing this, Azriel,” you said with conviction. “He was probably still traumatized by what happened to me…by what those males did to me. We just need to tell him how much we want to be together, how much—”

“It wouldn’t matter, y/n, don’t you see? Your brother might be the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, but even he cannot break bargain bonds. Even The King of Hybern needed to use the cauldron to do that.”

“I won’t accept this! I can’t, Azriel. Why should we have to! We want to be together and it's not fair that we can’t!”

“I know, Princess, I know,” Azriel grimaced. “And I’m so sorry for making that promise. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I should’ve left you alone. I shouldn’t have ever—”

“No, don’t say it. I refuse to believe this is it. I refuse to believe we just have to live always wanting each other and never having it. There has to be another way.”

“He did put one condition on it, one way to break the bargain. But…”

“But what? What is it?”

Azriel looked up at you, his hazel eyes filled with such longing it made your heart ache. “If we were mates…if the mating bond ever snapped between us, or between you and Cassian, the bargain would be completed.”

But nearly three hundred years had gone by since then and…and a mating bond had never snapped between you and Azriel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: omgggg I hope this chapter didn't disappoint! But now we all know the bargain Az made with Rhys soooo it's gonna be fun to see how this all pans out ;) are they mates? or will we have to find some sneakyyyy way to be together? who knowssss ;)

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sserrafeim · 1 month ago

Text

I’m going to hold your hand when I say this:

Feyre isn’t a bad artist. She doesn’t draw stick figures. She’s not a bad warrior either. The inner circle is her family, they wouldn’t be mad at her for painting the walls of a magic cabin that can clean itself. She’s not a breeding mule for having a child, neither is she too young for one, given that having a child was her choice and something she discussed with her partner beforehand. She didn’t lie and wasn’t manipulated when she recognised a male character’s abuse for what it was, no matter how much you want to justify his actions.

Nesta isn’t a bad dancer. It’s mentioned, and later shown, how she can enchant people with a mere dance. She’s not a bitch for dealing with her trauma in a way that you don’t like or you don’t think is “fit for a woman.”

Elain isn’t bad at baking. She isn’t stupid and a coward for choosing to live a simple life without violence, something she detests. She still needs time to accept her turning into fae, having a mate, and let go of the last.

Morrigan isn’t a whore for wearing revealing clothes. She isn’t a stupid manipulative bitch for not reciprocating a man’s feelings towards her or for not feeling safe and comfortable around a man that hurt her, no matter how attractive both men might be. You can’t blame her for not feeling ready to reveal her romantic and sexual preferences to her chosen family when she’s spent years being abused and ridiculed by her blood relatives.

Amren isn’t a bitch for being born a creature of terrifying power that doesn’t feel a single emotion and has no real free will, created only to follow her father’s orders. She can’t be blamed for not reacting to most things the way people would do when emotions are a new thing to her after living thousands of years without them.

Gwyn didn’t fake her rape. She has no intention of infiltrating a group of people for nefarious purposes or luring a man away from another woman. She spent years in a sanctuary trying to regain her identity and bodily autonomy after being brutally assaulted and witnessing the decapitation of her sister, the only family she had left. Her decision to take her life back in her hands wasn’t made with an ulterior motive. You can’t blame her for a man’s actions and feelings (ACOSF bonus chapter) because it “threatens your ship.”

Emerie spent her whole life being afraid of her father, thinking he would kill her. She suffered him after he beat her mother to death and had to endure everyone praising him for being a “good man” when not even her wings were spared from his cruelty. She then had to suffer the threats and humiliation of other male relatives, and not, after her father’s death, because she ran a shop by her own.

The Valkyries isn’t a stupid plot about women training as warriors and surface-level feminism. It’s about women reclaiming their lives after horrible things were done to them and gaining the power to prevent it from happening again to them or other unprotected women. Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie winning the Blood Rite wasn’t “unrealistic.” They trained for that and they trained even before knowing they were going to compete. It wasn’t a senseless victory for the sake of plot.

The obsession this fandom has with diminishing female characters, friendships, and traumatic experiences of said characters for the sake of uplifting the male ones in the series is wrong on so many levels and it has to stop. It’s not “critically thinking” or “valid criticism”, it’s misogyny. Deep-rooted misogyny. It’s ironic in a way, reading a book series that is all about women healing, discovering themselves and finding true love and friendship, only to shit on its female characters.

#feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #the morrigan #gwyneth berdara #emerie of illyria #amren #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas

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azriels-shadowsinger · 1 year ago

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Confessions (Azriel x Reader)

summary: you and azriel are best friends, but his flirting with elain has become too much for you to bear, so you decide to try to move on.

wc: 3k

a/n: !!warning: mentions attempted SA!! This is the first real fic i have written in years so it’s probably shit but if you decide to read this thank u and i love u.

Read Part Two

For months now, you have been fairly upset about seeing Azriel pining after Elain, but even more annoyed that your friendship with him has become insignificant to him now that he spends all his time with her. About a decade ago, you decided that being hopelessly in love with Azriel was pointless since he would never see you that way, so you settled for friendship. It’s better to have him as a friend than not at all… or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. Mor is the only one who knows about your crush and has kept your secret, but not without constant pestering to tell him how you feel.

“He’s in love with Elain, Mor. I’m over it and over him. I’m ready to move on.” You lie as best you can to her and to yourself.

“You’re so full of shit. But fine, I’ll play along. When we go out tonight, you’re finding someone to go home with!” She says excitedly while finishing her eyeliner. Mor forced you to put on a tight, navy party dress that barely covers your ass instead of letting you wear your go-to little black dress.

After she finishes getting ready, the two of you head down to your room to grab your lipstick, but when you open the door to the hallway, you see Azriel and Elain at the end of the hall whispering and standing only inches from each other. You ignore the ache in your chest at the sight and turn the opposite direction to head to your room, refusing to look behind you when you feel a pair of eyes staring at you.

———

Rita’s was crowded, as per usual. After about an hour of drinks and dancing, you were decently drunk and had forgotten all about Azriel… well almost.

“Can I buy you a drink?” You hear a male say from beside you. He’s tall and fairly handsome, but nowhere near Azriel’s level of attractiveness- damnit you need to get him out of your head!

“Sure. I’ll have what you’re having.” You try to say seductively, but it just comes out awkward. Gods, when was the last time you tried to flirt? He chuckles and orders your drink. Mor gives you a wink from across the bar and disappears into the crowd with a stranger.

After a while of talking, you decide this guy, Mikael, is exceptionally boring, but the night is almost over and he’s your only option. Anything to forget a certain dark and mysterious shadowsinger. Why not try to have fun?

“Do you want to come back to my place?” Mikael whispers in your ear. No reaction. If Azriel had been this close and whispered something to you, you would be all goosebumps and blushes, but with Mikael… nothing. Fuck, this is probably a bad idea. Maybe you should just go home and try again another night.

“Y/n?” His voice pulls you out of your daze. “I asked if you wanted to get out of here.” He says a bit annoyed while sliding a hand up your thigh. Gods, this guy is kinda an ass. This is definitely a bad idea.

“Um… I’m pretty tired. And I came here with a friend, so I should probably find her to make sure she gets home safe.” You slowly stand from your chair to leave. You immediately stumble and feel much dizzier than before. You were never good at handling your liquor, and apparently tonight was no exception… except you don’t remember drinking enough to feel this drunk. Mikael’s hand grabs your shoulder to stabilize you, but his grip feels too tight and he doesn’t let go once you balance yourself.

“Cmon honey. We were having a fun night, let’s keep it going.” He leans too close for comfort, giving you a slimy grin. You pull away and stumble back.

“I really should find my friend. I’m sorry!” You say nervously and look around for Mor. She’s nowhere in sight. Shit. She probably either left with that girl thinking you were gonna go home with Mikael or she’s lost in the crowd. Either way, you just need to get away from Mikael. You stumble towards the door, feeling dizzy and seeing double. Each step feels slower and heavier than the last, but you finally step outside, savoring the winter chill that will hopefully sober you up. Just as you take a step outside, you feel a hand grab your wrist too hard and pull you towards the alley next to Rita’s.

“I spent a lot of fucking money on your drinks tonight, so I’m not gonna ask again. You’re coming home with me.” Mikael’s whiskey breath is inches from your face, making you want to gag. You want to scream for help. You want to kick and fight back, but your body feels weak and your vision keeps getting blurrier. After a moment, you slump onto Mikael and he helps you walk down the sidewalk. To everyone else, you probably look like a drunk girl whose boyfriend is helping her home.

No. No no no. You need to get away. You need someone to notice you aren’t okay. How the fuck did this happen?

You hear a voice behind you and your feet stop moving. It’s too blurry and dark to see, but soon you’re on the ground and someone is yelling. You shut your eyes, accepting whatever horrible thing is about to happen to you. But suddenly you are in someone’s arms, and a moment later you’re inside somewhere. You open your eyes, and despite the blurriness, you recognize your blue curtains. You’re home. Somehow.

Mor must have found you and winnowed you home. Thank the gods for that. You are set on your bed and covered you with blankets.

“Thanks… thanks for finding me, Mor.” You slur and curl into your blankets. “I think that guy… put something in my drink.” Your voice trails off as you become incredibly sleepy and shut your eyes. Mor sits you up and forces you to drink some water. Your eyes feel too heavy to open, so you keep them shut.

“Just… don’t tell Azriel about this. It’s embarrassing enough to go looking for a quick fuck to get over my crush, but it’s even more embarrassing to get fucking drugged by someone in the process.” You get the words out slowly between sips. Thinking about everything that just happened tonight should make you want to cry and vomit, but you’re too tired to do so. When you finish the water, you lay back down and immediately fall asleep.

———

Your head is pounding and the sun is shining too bright. Someone is yelling outside your door. You roll over in bed, half expecting to see some male, but thankfully you are alone in your room. You don’t remember much from last night, but apparently your attempt at a one night stand was unsuccessful. Probably for the best.

The yelling gets louder.

“She was on the fucking sidewalk outside Rita’s!” You hear a male voice yell. Azriel’s voice. Why is Azriel here? And why is he so damn loud?

You slowly make your way out of bed and to the door so you can tell him to shut up, but as soon as you open the door, you see several worried faces staring back at you. Mor, Rhys, Cass, Feyre, and Azriel all stare at you. Mor looks like she’s crying and Azriel is red in the face with a murderous expression.

“Can you all shut up? I have a head-“ you start

“Y/n I’m so sorry!” Mor hugs you tight, almost knocking you over.

“What the…” you start to question before you’re cut off again.

“Do you know his name, y/n? I’ll make sure he is taken care of.” Rhys asks. His voice is gentle, but his face is full of anger.

“Like hell you will. I would’ve killed him last night if I didn’t have to get her back here. I should’ve fucking killed that piece of garbage.” Azriel mutters.

What the hell is going on? You pull away from Mor and face the group.

“Does anyone care to tell me what we’re talking about?” You ask cautiously while rubbing your temples in an attempt to alleviate your headache.

“Of course she doesn’t remember you guys. Give her some space.” Feyre says softly and leads you back inside your room with Mor. The three males protest, but Feyre gives them a stern look and shuts the door. “Sit down, y/n. I’ll tell you what’s happening.”

You sit on your bed and look between Feyre and Mor anxiously.

“You were found outside of Rita’s being carried by a stranger and you were close to unconscious. You’ve been asleep for almost the entire day now.”

You stare back in stunned silence. The memories slowly start to return, but before you can ask a question Mor starts tearing up again.

“You don’t know how sorry I am y/n. You were hitting it off with that guy and next thing I knew, you were gone. I thought you went home with him like you planned, but when Azriel told me-“

“Azriel? Wait… what?” You ask.

“Azriel found you and brought you back here. He made sure you were safe before finding me and going ballistic on me for not watching out for you. I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to let you get hurt!” She cries again.

“I don’t understand. I vaguely remember someone bringing me home, but I could’ve sworn it was you, Mor, not Azriel.” They both shake their heads. You sit silently and process the information for a minute before saying the only thing that may be helpful in this moment.

“His name was Mikael. He had dark hair, hazel eyes, and wore a red shirt.” You whisper, still in shock. Feyre’s eyes glaze over for a moment as she relays this information to Rhys. Suddenly its completely quiet outside your door.

———

You spend the rest of the day in your room, still exhausted and fighting a hangover. Or the after effects from the drug… not sure. There’s a soft knock at your door.

“Come in.” You call out. Azriel slowly opens the door and walks in. You can tell he just got back and tried to clean up quickly, but there’s still a few smears of blood on him.

“Uh… hi.” You say awkwardly and motion for him to sit. Azriel sits on the end corner of your bed and looks at you with a mixture of anger and fear in his eyes. His shadows are swirling around you, as if to check that you are actually okay. They’ve always taken an interest in you, which you normally appreciate, but right now it just makes you feel guiltier for last night.

“Thank you for finding me last night. I probably wouldn’t be okay right now if you hadn’t.” You whisper, avoiding his gaze. He takes a deep breath, like he is trying to control himself.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He mutters angrily. Azriel stands and starts pacing the room. “You could’ve been fucking killed!” He raises his voice.

“I know. I didn’t-“

“And then you go and say… fuck y/n!” He runs his hands over his face in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Az.” You whisper, fighting the tears that are building. Wait, why the hell is he mad at you? You didn’t drug yourself. “Azriel, it’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You say a bit annoyed. He lets out a cold laugh.

“Yeah, but you planned on going out to find someone to fuck. Wearing that fucking dress and letting that fucking worthless filth touch you.” He spits out angrily as his shadows swirl around your ankles.

“Okay look, I can do what I want and wear what I want. Why is it any of your business if I try to hook up with someone?” Your eyes burn and you fight the tears. “Obviously I wasn’t expecting someone to put something in my drink. I’ll be more careful next time!” You yell louder.

“Next time?” His voice drops to a whisper and he looks at you with an expression you can’t quite decipher.

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you, Azriel. Why do you even care? You’re never around anymore. Always too busy sneaking off with Elain to hang out with your best friend!” Hurt fills your voice. You hadn’t meant to let that last part slip out.

“Why are you bringing her into this?” His voice drops lower and his brow furrows.

“She has a mate, Azriel! What the hell are you doing?” You sigh and put your head in your hands. “I just miss you.”

He stops pacing and stares at you. “I’m right here. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Yes you have! I never see you anymore!” Its true. He never makes plans with you anymore and it has been tearing you apart. It’s strange that he was even at Rita’s in the first place, because he never wanted to go even before he ditched you for Elain. Wait, why was he there? “You were at Rita’s last night when you found me.” It’s not a question.

He nods.

“Why were you there?” He obviously wasn’t expecting you to ask that because panic flashes in his eyes for a brief moment. “I know you weren’t there with Elain because she hates it there. And I didn’t see you inside with the guys.” I try to remember him outside the bar, but it’s all fuzzy.

“I was worried.” He mutters so quiet you barely hear.

“What?”

“I was worried about you y/n!” You look at him surprised. “I saw you in the hall ready to go out in that dress. God, that fucking dress. And the entire night I kept thinking about something bad happening. So I waited outside to make sure you and Mor were safe. And then I saw that fucking piece of shit with his hands on you and I just…” he trails off and takes a deep breath. “If something had happened to you… if I hadn’t been there to stop it…” His expression looks angry again.

You pause and process his words. He almost sounds jealous. But that can’t be it. Because he has no reason to be jealous.

He sighs again and continues with a softer voice. “Do you remember anything after you left?” He asks with a hint of desperation in his voice. You think hard for a moment. You thought Mor got you home and you told her what happened. But it wasn’t Mor. It was Azriel. And then you said not to tell Azriel because… fuck. Your eyes go wide.

Azriel stalks closer and is inches from you. “Do you remember what you said? Was that the drug talking or you?” He whispers low and gets closer, his eyes searching yours for an answer. This cannot be happening. If you thought your friendship was screwed before, this is definitely the final straw.

“Az…” you whisper.

“Tell me.” His voice is demanding.

“I don’t-“ you start, but Azriel turns and runs his hands over his face in frustration. He stays facing away from you, muttering something to himself.

“Azriel, I cant. You already avoid me as it is. I don’t think I can handle losing you as a friend. Losing you completely.” He obviously already knows, but saying it feels too real. Your words cause him to turn back around and get closer to you. Azriel leans over you, caging you against the bed in between his arms and stares at you silently for a moment. His shadows have stilled completely around you two. There’s something desperate in his eyes. He’s so close, closer than he has been in months. Hell, he’s closer than he’s been ever. You look from his eyes to his lips for a split second, mesmerized by the way he barely bites his bottom lip.

“Fuck it.” He mutters. Before you can ask what, he crashes his lips into yours. You freeze for a moment in shock, before melting into his touch. He lets out a low groan as you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. His calloused hands wrap into your hair and tug slightly, earning a small whimper from you. It takes several moments before you come up for air.

“Azriel… I don’t understand.” You ask breathlessly.

“Please tell me what you said last night is true. That you feel the way I feel.” He rests his forehead on yours.

“What about Elain?”

“I don’t care about Elain! I care about you! She knows that I’m in l-“ He pauses and takes a breath. “I was trying to get over you.” He grabs your chin softly and pulls your face to meet his. “It’s always been you, y/n. Please.”

You stare silently in shock for several moments. “Y/n…” Azriel’s voice pulls you from your trance and you realize he’s waiting for you to answer.

Just as you are about to respond, there is a knock on the door. Azriel quickly pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed away from you, as if nothing were happening.

“Come in!” You call out softly, and Feyre opens the door holding a plate of food.

“I should go.” Azriel says quietly and heads towards the door.

“Wait.” You try to stop him, but he keeps walking.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, y/n.” Azriel opens the door and leaves without a second glance. His shadows remain for a moment, before quickly retreating, as if being called to follow. Feyre gives you a questioning look, but you just shake your head and fall back onto the bed, finally letting the tears flow freely.

thank you for reading!! :)

Read Part Two

#acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #acotar fic #bat boys #my writing

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jiarkives · 5 months ago

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can I please request some cassian (acotar) x reader fluff? maybe he's been away on a long mission and he's finally home with his mate and he can't keep his hands off of her because he missed her so much ... (it can get smutty if you want) thank you!! xx

clingy

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — your mate gets even clingier after being apart from you.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — cassian (a court of thorns and roses)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff ; written with fem!reader in mind

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — thank you for the request! i hope i did your idea justice hehehe also the ending is kinda wack jdhdhdhdhd my hand was on autopilot basically

Mor, Amren, and Nesta all looked annoyed, Feyre and Elain looked... uncomfortable, at most, while you could only smile awkwardly as you sipped your tea soundly, smacking your lips for effect as you put the cup down. “Lovely weather today, am I right?”

“Oh, cut it out!” Nesta grumbled, crossing her arms on her chest as she glared at you. Well, not at you, but rather at the male beside you.

“Aren’t we going to address the elephant in the room?” Mor spoke up as her eyes fell on your mate whose arms were wrapped around your waist and his face burrowed into the crook of your neck, his eyes closed. One would think he was asleep, but if they would looked closer, they would’ve seen the shit eating grin plastered on his face.

(The sisters were definitely rubbing off of the inner circle, especially with their figures of speech which were definitely confusing at first for the immortals.)

“Is that what you’re calling me now? An elephant?” Cassian picked his head up briefly from your neck to address the females in the garden with you. “I bet I could beat those creatures in a split second. Am I right?” He turned to the sisters with a cocky smirk, his eyebrows wiggling.

All of them ignored him, only looking at you with exasperated expressions. Feyre sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, Amren shook her head, Elain tried to look busy, while Nesta and Mor were practically fuming.

“You do understand the concept of a girls’ day, don’t you?” Mor addressed you, her eyebrows pinched together.

“Yes, of course–”

“Then tell this big, dumb pile of muscle to let go off you and fuck off.” Nesta glared at Cassian who grumbled and tightened his hold on you.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” You sighed. “He had just come back from Windhaven with Az earlier at dawn and hadn’t let me out of sight since, but we’ve already had this day set even before their mission and I didn’t want to cancel last minute...” Your words slowed at the last part as you smiled sheepishly. “But maybe I should’ve just cancelled...?”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be a bother,” Feyre, ever the mediator, immediately stepped in before Mor and Nesta could blow up even more. “So let’s just continue as planned, but with Cassian here, who I’m sure will behave.” She looked over to Cassian, her gaze stern and receiving a mock salute in return from the male. “See? No need for rescheduling.”

Cassian turned to Nesta, sticking his tongue out at her like a toddler, but immediately stopped and hid his face back in your neck when Feyre uttered his name in warning, causing Nesta to smirk at him smugly.

You could only sigh heavily as your mate’s arms wrapped impossibly tighter around you.

Cauldron, this was going to be a long day.

It was, in fact, a long day for the lot of you.

Cassian, despite Feyre’s words of warning, decided to be the most annoying little shit (affectionate for you, derogatory for the rest) during your time together.

He was a busybody, of course he was more invested in the gossip than all of you were. But not only was he gossiping harder than a teenage girl, he was acting like a lovesick teenage boy too.

He wouldn’t keep his hands off of you, even going as far as teasing you with his hands trailing where they shouldn’t. You weren’t able to focus properly on your girls, having to swat at his hand every time.

Then, the girls’ love lives were brought up. Mor was talking about the female she recently met in the city when Cassian interrupted her, “A female? What’s her name? Where does she live? Do I know her? Does Rhys know about her—”

“Mother above, Cassian!” Mor groaned out. “You’re impossibly annoying, leave me alone. Gods.”

You had quickly apologized to the girls with a promise of making up to them another time as you stood, pulling your mate up with you and winnowing into the house Rhysand had gifted you two in your mating ceremony.

As soon as you were standing in the comfort of your own home, Cassian’s smug, cocky smirk softened into one you were used to seeing on him when you were alone.

“Finally.” He groaned in relief, his hands finding their way to your hips to pull you flush to his chest. “I’ve been waiting all godsdamned day, sweetheart.”

Then, his smirk returned as he lifted you in his arms.

“Now, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.” He pushed your bedroom door open. “Properly this time.”

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ julia writes about acotar !#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ julia writes about cass !#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #cassian #acotar x reader #cassian x reader #acotar imagine #cassian imagine #acotar fluff #cassian fluff #acotar x you #cassian x you #acotar x fem!reader #cassian x fem!reader #mate!reader #fem!reader #cassian x mate!reader

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

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Pranks

Rhysand x reader

A/n: I was thinking about how Rhys would react to everyone telling him he has gray hair and knew I had to write it

Warnings: none

You had vowed to get Rhys back for his latest prank. He wouldn’t know where or when, but you knew it had to be something that would slowly drive him insane.

The male thought it would just hilarious to enchant your favorite pen to write curse words. When you went to write a letter to your mother you were very confused by the greeting ‘hello bitch’. Rhys laughed as you attempted your third letter before he told you what he had done.

Now it was your turn. You got the rest of the family in on it to. Cassian seemed most excited to tell Rhys he has gray hair.

Sitting down for breakfast Rhys kissed you on the cheek and took his seat. You smiled at him, waiting for your prank to begin.

Feyre and Elain walked in first. Followed by Az and Nesta. Then finally Cassian. He sauntered into the dining room with a shit eating smirk plastered on his lips.

He stopped next to Rhys, bending down dramatically and squinting at Rhys’s hair. “Brother, is that a gray hair I see?”

“What?!” Rhys jumped from his seat rushing to the mirror in the hall. You all hid your laughter behind your hands. You had to bite your lip to keep it together.

“Cassian. Where is the gray hair!” “It’s right there, you can’t see it?” “Pull it out!” “Ok.” Cassian said far too enthusiastically.

Rhys screamed. “What the fuck! Why did you pull so hard!”

Next up was Elain. Rhys had wandered out to the garden to ask Elain what flowers to pick for you. Kneeling next to him gave Elain the perfect opportunity.

She turned to look at Rhys, making a small face and letting out a small oh. Rhys whipped his head toward her. “What is it Elain?”

“Nothing,” she said sweetly shaking her head. “It’s just, you have a small gray hair on the back of your head.” Rhys’s eyes went wide. “Another one?”

She nodded, pulling her lips in a tight line. It was to keep her from laughing but Rhys saw it as her feeling sorry for him.

“I’ll get it later.” He says in a defeated tone.

Before bed you found Rhys in the bathroom frowning at the mirror as he ran his hands through his hair.

“What are you doing Rhys?” You say with a slight smirk. You regret the playful tone when he looks at you with sad eyes. “Everyone told me they saw gray hairs on me today and it’s driving me crazy. Also Nesta took far too much pleasure in telling me.”

You give him a faux pout, moving to hug him. Rhys lets out a sigh looking back at the mirror. “It just makes me feel old. And I hate it.” You lean away from him, cupping his face in your hands. You feel guilty for your little prank now. If you had known Rhys would be this upset by the end of the day you would’ve done something else.

“Rhys, I’m sorry it was just a prank. I got everyone in on it because I wanted to get back at you for the pen thing.” Rhys let out a relieved breath, his forehead falling against yours. “Thank the Mother. I was worried.” You let out a hum, “You’re young Rhy. You have another three thousand years before you start graying.”

He let out a scoff. “Even when I am three thousand I’ll still have this thick, full perfect head of hair.” You both laugh and pull him closer. “Such a humble high lord.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #rhysand x reader #acotar rhysand #rhysand imagine #rhysand fluff #rhysand acotar #rhysand #rhys x you #rhys x reader #rhysand x you fluff #rhysand x reader fluff #rhysand x reader imagine #rhysand x you

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 2 years ago

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Evasively Yours

EVASIVELY YOURS | Azriel x Female!Illyrian!Reader (Part 2 of NEVER YOURS)

SUMMARY: The fallout after Azriel found out you were his mate, and that you kept it from him.

WARNINGS: Angst angst angst. I think I have found my true calling as an angst writer. Swearing. Rhys is the big brother we deserve. Azriel is a bit of an asshole and Mor is a gem.

WORDS: 2.6K

You wished you could stay at the mountain camps forever. The males were training the females as required, with you watching over their teaching techniques and helping the girls out when they needed it. You didn’t mind helping the females – some of them even seemed to be relieved in receiving your assistance. The females were all younger, with the oldest being twenty, and the youngest thirteen. You understood why the older females weren’t training – the backwards ways of the Illyrian people had been ingrained within them for too long.

You extended your stay from two days to three, to four, and on the fifth day, you could tell that you were not going to be welcome much longer. So you packed up, threatened Devlon a little bit, promised to be back to see how the females were faring, and left.

Up in the air, the wind pushed against your wings, almost as if it were telling you not to return to Velaris. Because in the city of starlight awaited the shadowsinger who seemed to want nothing to do with you. Which hurt. So much so, it hurt. There were many ways you could attempt to describe the shredding of your soul, but none of those descriptions would do the pain you felt justice. It was unbearable to think about… so you didn’t.

You arrived in Velaris just before sunset and landed out the front of the River House, leaves and plants rustling at the force of your landing and the final sweep of your wings. Those plants, those flowers and bushes – Elain had planted those. Part of you wanted to rip them out from the roots and burn them, watch as the flames consumed that part of her – but the other part, the more logical side told you not to. This was not Elain’s fault. It was yours.

You entered the River House with a slight droop to your wings as Azriel clouded your mind. You tried to push him away but – how many times had you walked in here for a family dinner, betting on who would start a fight that night? How many times had you walked into this house together, him bumping your shoulder playfully as he chuckled at a joke you told? How many times had you both shushed each other, trying not to laugh too loudly as Nyx slept soundly upstairs? By the Mother, everything seemed to remind you of him now that he wasn’t yours.

Not that he’d ever been yours. That was just wishful thinking on your part.

You turned through the hallways, so consumed by your thoughts that you didn’t even notice someone was in front of you until you bumped into them.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” you apologised, steading them.

You instantly let go as if you’d been burned when you realised it was Elain who stood before you. A bubbling anger rose inside of you, threatening to overcome your logical thinking, but you pushed it down. None of this was Elain’s fault. The only person to blame was you.

“You’re back,” Elain stated with a small smile. “How was your mission?”

Ugh. If only Elain was rude, and didn’t care about you. It would make your life so much simpler if she was easy to hate. But you didn’t hate her. She had always been kind to you, always caring and thoughtful. She was gentle by nature.

You shrugged. “It went… well. I, uh… I have to update Rhys about it.”

“Of course,” Elain acknowledged, a smile still plastered on her pretty face.

You gave her a slightly strained smile and continued on through the house, all the way to Rhys’s office. You knocked this time, and Rhys responded, telling you to come in. You entered and walked up to his desk, the High Lord raising his head to survey you.

“Did it really take five days for you to figure out how to get Devlon to train the females properly?” Rhys questioned as he stood up from his desk.

“He has agreed to train the female properly,” you began, “and I stayed back to make sure he did as he said he would.”

Rhys studied you for a moment before leaning against his desk, arms crossed and eyeing you closely. You stood tall, not allowing him to see the sea of anguish within you, the ocean that churned with your heartache. You couldn’t let anyone ever see this part of you, the part that had once been full of hope and light, but was now shrouded in misery and darkness. And not the darkness you were used to. No, the darkness you were used to was calm and soothing, protective and familiar. This darkness was never ending, tormenting, and devastating.

“You don’t have to keep everything to yourself, you know,” Rhys murmured. “I’m here for you – not as your High Lord, but as your friend. As your brother.”

Your heart swelled at his words and before you could stop it, the tears came tumbling down. Rhys was there instantly, holding you tight as you cried into his shoulder, sobbing and allowing five days’ worth of torture and grief to tumble out in the form of your cries. You held Rhys tight to you, as if he was a lifeline, knowing that if you let go right now you’d be lost in your sea of sorrow forever.

Rhys stroked your hair softly and you tried to get deep breaths into your lungs in an attempt to calm down. You’d cried in front of Rhys before, but you never liked it. Of course, people rarely liked to cry, but it made you feel weak, like all the males who told you that your emotions would get the best of you were right. Because when you were crying, those emotions really did take over. You didn’t feel anything except sorrow and pain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rhys inquired.

You looked up at him, at your High Lord, and nearly shook your head. But… he couldn’t look inside your head, lest he see the depths of your suffering. So you took a deep breath, and hiccupped, “Azriel is my mate.” Rhys cocked his head, his only indication of surprise, and you continued, “He – I… he kissed Elain, because I hadn’t told him. I don’t think he knew, and… and he followed me to Windhaven, and then I accidentally told him and now… now he hates me.”

Rhys’s lips twisted. “Why do you think he hates you?”

“You should have heard the way he spoke to me,” you whispered weakly. “He – he’s never spoken to me like that. And he just… left.”

Rhys hummed lowly in thought, and even rubbed his chin. You wiped the tears from your cheeks and sniffed, pulling away from Rhys’s warm embrace. You didn’t want to be here anymore. You wanted solitude, and peace. Peace from your mind, and the thoughts that raged through it like a wildfire, only to be drowned out by the waves of misery that chased you.

“I’m going to go now,” you uttered, rubbing your arms.

Rhys was silent for a moment, before he admitted, “We all guessed, you know.” You looked up at him, and he clarified, “That the two of you were mates.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t really matter anymore. See you, Rhys.”

You left him in his office, and he did not follow. Maybe he knew you were at your breaking point, and that if you had to say one more word about it you might quite literally explode. You exited the River House, shutting the door behind you quietly and took off, your wings lifting you into the air with a single swoop. You glided across the city of starlight and all the way to the House of Wind, where you prayed to the Mother that Azriel would not be. You landed on the balcony, already feeling exhaustion cloud you and your thoughts. Maybe you could sleep peacefully for years and years and never have to face this problem.

Your footsteps echoed on the marble floors of the mountain palace as you made your way to your room, trying to ignore the thoughts that hounded you. You reached your hallway, intending to have a very long bath before getting into bed, when you stopped in your tracks. Azriel stood at the other end of the hall, also seemingly halted.

Now that you could see him, the only thing you wanted to do was talk to him. You just wanted to figure things out, to fix the fracturing of your heart and soul.

“Az–”

But he turned away and into his own room, closing the door with a loud slam, with enough force that you flinched. So maybe he couldn’t be reasoned with. Maybe that was it, maybe him closing the door meant he was closing the door on any possibility that you could work through it.

Because if Azriel couldn’t work through it, then no one could.

So you entered your own room, closing your door with much less force, and stood in the middle of your room. It used to be familiar and comforting, but now… it just reminded you of Azriel. Over there, by the window, the two of you would sit and read when you had a free moment. On the bed, the two of you would lay together after a particularly bad nightmare, comforting each other simply with your presence.

You left the room and entered your adjoining bathroom, twisting the faucet handle, allowing hot, steaming water to fill the bathtub. You slid out of your leathers and stepped into the tub, hissing slightly at the heat, before lowering yourself down, and resting against the lip and tipping your head back. When the water reached the top, you turned it off and soaked, feeling the water settle around you as you stilled. You grabbed your soap, smelling of lavender and vanilla, and scrubbed yourself down, trying to wash away the grime of the Illyrian camps, as well as the pain of the rejection of the bond.

Because that’s what it was. You could deny it no longer – Azriel wanted nothing to do with you, it was clear as day. He had rejected the bond, and you felt it in your chest, felt the string that bound your two souls weakening. The pain was still there, the anguish and aching, but the bond felt… less. It was as if a veil had come down, shrouding the bond and concealing it from view. You knew it was still there, you could feel it faintly, but… it was as if something was cutting away at it, as if the bond was wilting away. Maybe when it finally did, you’d no longer feel the torment that threatened to overwhelm you.

Something caught your eye as you tried to relax. A shadow, small and harmless, sat in the corner of the room. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the candles were causing the strange silhouette. But you did know better.

“And what do you want?” you hissed.

The shadow recoiled and disappeared, leaving you alone.

You stayed in the bath until the water was cold and urged you to get out. You dried yourself off, the cotton towel soft against your skin, and you opened your drawer in search of sleepwear. You pulled on a pair of comfy pants, and opened the top drawer, freezing as you saw an oversized shirt tucked away, the ebony shade of the item almost hiding it from view. You hesitantly reached out for the fabric, and against your better judgement, picked it up, allowing the cloth to slide between your fingers. You inhaled the scent – night-chilled wind and cedar, with a hint of your own scent – and your hands fisted around it.

You should get rid of it. You doubted Azriel would want it, now that it gave off your smell of lavender and vanilla, so maybe you could burn it. Maybe it would be therapeutic, in a way.

A knock at your door dragged you from your thoughts, and you let out a, “just a minute!” before stuffing the shirt back in your drawer and grabbing another, shrugging in on and not bothering to do up the buttons in the slats, instead letting the clothing hang from your frame as you opened the door.

Mor stood at the door, eyes searching yours in concern. You moved aside to let her in and you shut the door behind her. Her stare never left you, and after a moment she sighed and walked over, motioning for you to turn around. You did as she ordered, allowing her deft fingers to do up the slats of your nightclothes.

“Thanks,” you mumbled once she had finished.

She only hummed in response, care and compassion clear in her warm brown eyes as she studied you. She opened up her arms and you sighed, falling into them. Mor held you tightly, her arms protecting you from the world and all its sorrow. You rested your head against her shoulder as she held you close, and you allowed a single tear to escape.

“Now, now,” Mor murmured, rubbing your arms. “Starfall is in a few days. Do you have something to wear?”

You smiled at the blonde in thanks as she changed the subject, most likely sensing that you did not want to talk about it. Not now, and maybe not ever. Maybe if you pushed it all down far enough, it would disappear.

“No,” you admitted, “but I’m sure you have something for me.”

“You know me so well,” Mor grinned.

You smiled at your friend and she smiled back, but you could still see concern in her eyes. You could tell her that Azriel rejected the bond, but she’d probably already guessed. Besides, you didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted to get lost in talk of dresses and parties and shoes and other useless things, if only to distract yourself from the drowning of your soul.

You felt bad for Lucien. You’d never really thought about how Elain’s rejection of the mating bond had felt for him. You didn’t realise it would be like this, like your soul was screaming and wailing until it could no longer, only to start back up again as soon as it could. You didn’t know it would feel like a stabbing pain in your chest, like someone had jammed a knife up your ribs and into your heart, and was slowly twisting with every minute that passed.

And of course, both of your mates ended up together. Of course the two beings who rejected the bond were together. Because that was what usually happened, right? When a person rejected the bond, it was because they wanted someone else. Had Elain decided, all those years ago when Azriel had first visited the Archeron Estate, that she wanted him? Was that another reason why she rejected Lucien?

It would do you no good to ponder it. So you sat with Mor and gossiped and chatted away until the sun rose, talking of nothing important.

TAGLIST (all users that could not be tagged are in bold) :

@sv0430 @bsenpai @mich0731 @nobody00sthings @vickykazuya @abrunettefangirlnerd @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @elizabethrosecresswell @my-otrand @fuckthatfeeling @im-bili @littlebookbengal @feyretopia @satellitesunshine @marina468 @fartimagines @fussel9913 @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @fan-of-many-bands @azriel-luvr @xreaderbooksreads @twsssmlmaa @ilov3sharks @mllemarianne @gamarancianne @holywolfsstuff @shadowsinger-654 @lovra974 @cullenswife @megudragon @fieldofdaisiies @psychobookoholic

i’m sorry if i forgot anyone, i tried to get them all down <3 Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in part three!!

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newwavesylviaplath · 7 months ago

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playlist recs (cuz i'm an influencer)

hiii! i was just thinking about how much i love making playlists but i have legitimately two irl friends and they don't give a shit abt my music taste so i wanted to make a cutesie little (kind of??) masterlist of all my fave playlists that ive made and like their general vibes <3

(p.s i'm super picky abt the songs i put in a playlist so they're all generally short)

⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡⋆˚

for my morute girlies; very blood in snow/dirt stained babydoll dresses/stuffed animals with big sharp teeth

you should've known, you should've guessed

for my borderline yandere bitches; very love quinn from you/obsessed teenage girl/follow him around like a lost puppy

crazy stalker gf

for my zooey deschanel wannabes; very owns a typewriter/semi vegan/is a wes anderson diehard

does eyes, collared dresses, etc.

for my girlbloggers; very sylvia plath quotes on tumblr/heart aches when you think about your mother at your age/"obviously doctor, you've never been a 13 year old girl"

woman moment

for my babes with suspected narcolepsy; very 'protecting your peace'/ten step face care routine/patchouli oil in the humidifier

bed time routine

for my coquette bitches; very listens to unreleased lana on a spotify podcast/wears an excessive amount of lace/giggles instead of laughs

sweet kinda gal

for anyone who cries over spilled milk; very scared of aging/birthday playlist from a few years back/wellbutrin zoloft combo

march sadness/old woman

for the ones with kathleen hanna vocal fry; very resting bitch face/riot grrrl adjacent/too cool for you/wears bright colours ironically

it girl wannabe

for people who can't wait until october; very apple cinnamon bath and body works/tate and violet season/leg warmers over top of doc martens

iced pumpkin foam chai latte

for people who can't wait until december; very glee christmas specials/cute fluffy earmuffs/buying advent calendars when they go on sale right after the 24th

gingerbread houses

for all of newwavesylviaplath nation; very much camryncore/songs i listen to while i blog/my personal faves

teenage girl playlist

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that's all! because i've been a bit of a flop recently i begged a bunch of people to let me tag them thanks yall: @fear-is-truth @cult-of-lambs @thebonesofwhatyoubelieve @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @taintandviolent @nahoyasboyfriend @elaine-in-the-membrane @slutforgarlogan @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @feefymo

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sapphicmsmarvel · 7 months ago

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Azriel: worlds collide

Like everyone else, I have seen the BikeTok and BookTok simp city and im eating it up. (except some of the comments, some are insane and cringey but!)

So naturally I thought of Az on a bike then passed out. Then thought of him with a bookish girlfriend, and passed out again.

Let's go!!

(also this fic exposes how much TikTok I watch and!! I don’t want to hear it!!)

Regular headcanons:

-You two met because of Feyre and Nesta (and technically Elain since her and Azriel were besties). But Nesta got you to agree to a blind date with Azriel, you didn’t even know what he looked like. Elain and her husband assured you that Azriel was hot.

-They didn’t let you down.

-You and Azriel had been texting a bit but agreed to no photos of yourselves so you could get to know each other without the pressure of looks.

-He was also nervous about his hands, he didn’t want you to think of him as a gross creature.

-You sent him an array of outfits to pick from. He picked a blue sweater, you picked out a black button up for him. So you two knew what you’d be wearing on the date.

-When he walked into the restaurant, you thought you’d died and gone to heaven. He was sex on legs. Gorgeous tanned skin, hands that you wanted wrapped around your throat. You knew he would talk someone through an orgasm.

-When he saw you, he almost fell to the ground and thanked whatever god put you in front of him. You were beautiful. Your eyes were twinkling. He saw your luscious curves, he wanted to sink his teeth into your plump ass. He wanted your thighs wrapped around his neck.

-Then your smile, your laugh and just you enchanted him.

-You were no better, you were infatuated with him.

-After three dates he officially asked to be his girlfriend.

-You were terrified to ride the bike the first time. He made sure you were safe obviously but you were nervous. And now? You’re obsessed.

-He always got the door for you, pulled out your chair, he was always bringing you flowers.

-Obviously he was a god in bed, perfect even. Even when you two weren’t doing intense kinky shit you had a safe word just in case. Even after assuring him that you were fine, he felt better when you had a safe word. He made your first time together special too.

-You gave him a handjob on the bike in the comfort of your garage.

-He’s fingered you and eaten you out on the bike. You have no idea how he did so well balancing the bike to ensure you didn’t fall.

-He held your books for you as you shopped. And at bookish events he always took pictures for you and encouraged your followers to go up and meet you.

-After a year you two moved in together. A 3 bedroom townhouse. He got an office, you got a library room and then the bedroom for you two.

-The Archeron Sisters took full credit for you two being together. His brothers adored you even before the relationship and now that you’re “officially” a little sister (because Az isn’t letting you go) they love you even more.

When your relationship was shown online:

-Azriel was one of the most popular BikeTokers and you were one of the most popular BookTokers

-You two had been dating for a few years when both your respective areas of the internet merged.

-He was just like “everyones finally catching up on how hot reading is huh” like it’s been his life. Reenacting famous sex scenes was one of his favorite things. Zade Meadows scenes with consent discussed beforehand??? (cough funhouse scene cough) (However he is not a fan of Zade meadows)

-You just couldn’t stop laughing at the guys being like “these girls are freaks!” and Azriel always commenting “you guys are just finding this out?”

-Which then leads to gossip pages talking about him and who his potential partner is.

-You were used to your man getting steamy comments and DMs, he’s tried to get people to stop but they won’t so he stopped opening them and didn’t respond.

-Then you started getting comments and DMS from bikers asking for a date. And then Az began pouting, which you ruthlessly teased him about.

-”Can I post you on my page?” Az asked one night in bed. “Something without your face, but something?”

“Are you gonna send it to these guys and demand they take out their dicks for a measuring contest?” You asked dryly.

He grumbled, and you turned off your kindle. You were done reading for the night. You had a big baby to comfort. “You do know, I’ve been dealing with his shit on your page since we began dating right?”

“But…there’s no chance of me leaving you.” Your blood turned to ice. “Do you think so little of me that I’d leave you for some random person on the internet?”

His eyes widened when he saw how pissed off you were. “No I just…” He sighed, “I worry because I don’t see me as anything.”

“Let me put it this way: You are everything to me. No, you’re not anything, because you are everything to me. And I am the only girl that’s gonna ride your dick, and your bike. You a’re the only guy that gets to fuck me.” You said bluntly. “Capiche?”

He blinked at you, then smiled, “I love you.” “I love you too, you’re on thin ice for even suggesting that bullshit.” You huffed even as your head hit his chest to go to bed.

He kissed your forehead. And held you even tighter.

-So he asked if you guys could film a video, just his hands would be in it, so some mystery was still there.

You had wanted to redecorate your kindle and film it. So just your hands would be in it. You sighed and let the fool join.

“Hey everyone, so join me today with a very special guest. My boyfriend!” You said happily into the mic but also sounded annoyed, “the fool wanted to join because of all the comments and DMs I get hitting on me.”

He waved gleefully in the camera. Once again, only his hands were visible against your dining room table. His nails were painted black, and frankly well taken care of (because of you). He had a singular ring on his ring finger, one with your initial. You had one on yours as well, his initial.

“Alright, baby. What’re we doing today?” You asked.

“Redecorating your kindle.” It was easy to hear the adoration in his voice.

“I went to a few local bookstores and picked these up.” You showed them to the camera. Your nails were painted the color of Azriel’s tip, but nobody knew that but you two. You hoped.

“Alright let’s start.”

Azriel picked up the biggest sticker and placed it in the middle, “how about here?” It was a sticker that was a tarot card style with a girl reading in it that said “the reader”.

“Nah my popsocket is gonna block it, and that’s too pretty to be hidden.” You placed it up on the top corner.

Then he picked up a candy heart style sticker that said “smut slut”. The camera couldn’t see his grin. “Shut up.” You said. “Nah, I love when you’re a smut…” He hesitated and looked sheepish.

“Can you not say the word?” You laughed.

“I don’t like the idea of calling you a slut.” “Nothngs wrong with being a slut.” You said.

“Yeah but, I’m trying to be a gentleman!”

“Baby, nothing you did last night was-” “Aye!” He laughed lightly.

Throughout the video, you two teased each other, and all around had a good time. You smacked his hands away when he tried to take your sticker-fictional boyfriend away from you. He smacked your hands away when he tried to put a motorcycle sticker on it. But you let him put it there in the end, and happily kept it there.

Tons of comments rolled in. All of them were talking about how cute you guys were.

He posted a video later and he got a comment that talked about how nice his hands were. Naturally, others began agreeing. So he posted a video labeled, “I hope you guys realize that the reason my hands look so nice is because of my girlfriend.”

And the video involved you being his backpack. And then you were tagged in the video as well. So your followers increased drastically, then when you posted a few pictures of you two from when you went to your cousin's wedding, even more followers and comments rolled in.

You were wearing a cobalt blue dress that hugged your curves, he was in a black button up with nice dress pants and shoes. You had strappy silver heels on, even with the heels you came up to that mans chin. The first one was you two just looking at each other and smiling, clearly you both were laughing. Then the other one was a smiling one, but he wasn’t looking at the camera, he was looking at you.

Some other videos he’s in are bookshopping vlogs or random tiktoks he makes appearances in.

You also got the comments of “does he have siblings” and “are you looking for a sister-in-law” to which you responded, “I already have two <3 but wish you the best!!”

You didn’t play about your sister-in-laws relationships either. Girl code, man. Also, you genuinely loved Azriels brothers and their girlfriends.

Even Nesta and Feyre joined in on the BookTok craze. Talking about books the three of you liked. Book recs for Feyre because she was just getting into reading. Feyre’s reaction to Haunting Adeline.

On the video where your sister-in-laws were in, you got a few comments that were golden.

“Idk who im more in love with azriel or y/n”

“Do any of you need a third in your relationship? I can cook”

Of course there were still assholes who didn’t respect your relationship. The block button was a blessing. But for the most part, everyone was kind.

The internet could be a bad place, but sometimes, sometimes it wasn’t so bad.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x reader fluff #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #acotar #acofas #acomaf #acowar

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siriuslystyle1989 · 1 month ago

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Hard Liquor Mixed With A Bit Of Intellect (Part 5)

Modern!Azriel x reader

Warnings : Elain Bashing, non-consensual kissing, Mentions of bedrotting and depression.

Series masterlist main masterlist

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Shit.

Azriel slammed his phone down on the dresser. Why would they tell her?

Rubbing his eyes he felt his breathing begin to hitch up. Stalking to the bathroom, he splashed water on his face attempting to calm himself down.

He couldn't lose Y/n. Not over something like this.

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Y/n hadn't left her bed in days. Her clothes were beginning to become stained with food and her room became cluttered and untidy.

She hadn't been to college in about a week and slowly felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into perpetual sadness.

As days rolled into nights, Y/n felt like the world was caving in on her, suffocating her, weighing her down to a point of no return.

She hadn't cried since the day Mor came over. She didn't think she could cry even if she tried. Y/n felt nothing, she was completely numb.

Clasping at her phone, she tapped on the screen to see numerous messages from Mor and Nesta asking if she was alright and if she needed anything.

Of course she wasn't alright, but she would never tell them that.

'Y/n - Yeah I'm doing fine I promise thank you for checking! <3'

Y/n almost laughed at the lie as she took in her surroundings. She knew this needed to stop. But she couldn't bring herself to get better.

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Trailing up to Rhys' house, Azriel let out a stressed sigh as a hand ran through his hair.

Lifting his arm to knock on the bronzed door, it swung open to reveal his 'brother'.

"So are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on or?" Rhysand looked at Azriel with slight distain in his eyes as Feyre sent Azriel a tense smile as she carried baby Nyx into the living room.

They moved into the house, ending up in the living room where Rhys signalled for the other male to sit down and start talking.

Azriel ran an anxious hand through his hair as he began to instinctively bounce his leg up and down.

"I know what this looks like..." He began as Rhys let out a huff of disapproval.

"I mean it looks like you cheated on your long term girlfriend." Feyre stated bluntly, cradling Nyx in her arms.

"Please, just- just let me explain." Azriel looked at the pair, begging for their forgiveness.

"Go ahead." Rhys spoke, swinging his right foot up to his left knee, leaning back and moving his arm around the back of Feyre.

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A WEEK EARLIER

The music was blaring loud and Azriel, in his drunken state, needed to get out.

The party had droned on for too long and as Rhys and Feyre began to slowly coax people to leave their home, Azriel decided he'd had enough.

He knew he'd drank far too much and potentially smoked something that he probably shouldn't have, so much so he felt his vision begin to slow and blur. The flashing lights almost sending him into a hypnotic state.

As he began to try and find Rhys and Feyre to say goodbye he was greeted by a sultry voice.

"Hello Azriel." it hummed as he turned around to reveal Feyre's sister, Elain.

"Hi Elain." Azriel slurred clearly uninterested in whatever the female had to say, too focused on getting away from the party and home.

"I've been waiting to find you alone." She spoke, lips caressing his ear.

"Elain what do you wan-" Azriel was cut off by an abrupt kiss as Elain pushed his weakened body to a wall. Assaulting his lips with hers before he could even register what happened.

"Elain- please- stop" He tried to get a word in as she pinned him back, utilising his sluggish state to her advantage.

"What the fuck?" Mor's voice rang in his ears, his eyes opened wide as they met the blurred vision of Feyre and Mor.

Elain began to giggle slightly.

"Oops! looks like we've been... interrupted." She spoke, stroking Azriel's cheek with her hand.

"Mor- wait!" He yelled as the two women began to walk away, their faces laced with disbelief.

What had he just done.

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"She- she forced herself on you?" Feyre spoke, eyes wide with shock.

"I guess you could call it that, yeah." Azriel replied rubbing the back of his neck.

"Az I'm so sorry she did-" the man cut Feyre off.

"Stop. I don't need your sympathy, I need Y/n back." He spoke, determination lacing his tone.

"Azriel." Rhys stated, empathy gracing his features, locking eyes with his 'brother' "I promise we will sort this out."

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A/n: BACK WITH PART 5 BABYYYYYY

If you are ever going through a tough time feel free to send me a message i'm always here to listen <3

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @mellowmusings @atomictyphoonkitten @cazrielsfairygf @sidthedollface2 @clementine111002

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maybeiwasjustjade · 2 months ago

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I see so many post constantly degrading Nesta for being so nasty and mean and ungrateful; for using Rhysand’s money and staying on his land (not for free I might add) while refusing to play nice or care.

But isn’t that the bare minimum of what he owes her?

The IC and Feyre dragged Nesta and Elain into their world by manipulating them using their guilt over letting Feyre hunt for those 5 years when they were severely impoverished. Nevermind that Feyre doesn’t know how to cook or clean so someone had to have done that, or that someone was bound to do physical labor anyway. But I digress—the IC gave Nesta so much shit for refusing to be Feyre and Elain’s mom, for not being the one to take care of them by any means necessary (which we know would’ve been through marriage).

So the sisters agreed to help with the Human Queens, putting a major target on their backs. The IC sent away their staff and guards, promised to leave protection that failed miserably. Feyre told Ianthe about her sisters; Rhysand let the Attor live knowing that Hybern would have their location. So the sisters were taken—kidnapped and dragged and thrown into something that turned them into something they weren’t.

Murdered and tortured for however eternity it took to melt the flesh off their bones, for their bones to grow and lengthen, and magic to flow through their veins. There’s another word for this, you know? Nonconsensual body modification. And just because they came out young and beautiful and immortal, everyone around them expected them to be grateful. But what is there to be grateful for, if you were Nesta and Elain? Ripped from their finally stable human lives and love? Forced to join a war that had nothing to do with them until it eventually fucked them over too?

As far as I’m concerned, and how it should’ve been if SJM wasn’t so far up feysand’s ass, whatever debt owed by Nesta and Elain to Feyre was repaid in full when they were murdered over Feyre and the IC’s actions.

Elain came out of that Cauldron catatonic for months. Nesta came out something other, even for a Fae, and dripping with so much power that she made High Lords quake at the sight of her and that damned finger. And in order to spare Elain from further suffering, Nesta took the brunt of their missions and scrying, repressed and depressed as she was. Yet it was still them who killed the King of Hybern, effectively ending the war.

The bare minimum Rhysand owed them afterwards was a fucking lifetime of peace, and to be left alone if they wished with enough money to make a king cry. But that wasn’t enough for him was it? Feyre was pushy because she wanted Nesta around even when Nesta preferred to be literally anywhere else. I can understand that to an extent as a younger sister myself. But she went about it all wrong, and let her mate do what he does best: be a complete and utter bitch.

And if getting sexually assaulted and repeatedly nearly dying finding the Troves for the NC still wasn’t enough to repay whatever fucking ‘debt’ Rhysand and his stans seem to still think she owes (despite the dying and kingslaying), Nesta gave up a significant portion of herself to save Feyre, Nyx, and Rhysand. And despite his gratefulness, he still couldn’t help himself from berating her horribly behind Feyre’s back, even when Feyre herself has told him repeatedly to lay the fuck off her sister.

So, NO. Nesta shouldn’t owe squat to the NC and its shitty High Lord. Pretty sure at this point, he owes her more.

#acotar #acotar critical #anti rhysand #anti rhysand stans #anti feysand #anti feysand stans #feyre critical #anti ic #anti inner circle #pro nesta #nesta archeron #elain archeron #sjm critical #the cauldron thing gave me major wwx/jc core transplant vibes #and i most definitely DO NOT vibe with that

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lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter six : torment (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.1k

summary : you confront the mandalorian

warnings, etc. : language, smut, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, teasing, lowkey brief orgasm denial, din djarin is a little shit, helmet stays on

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

Okay, maybe you didn’t think this through.

You didn’t think he’d actually come in and now suddenly the door is shut and you’re alone with him. You’re always alone with him, why is this any different than the days upon days you’ve spent together completely alone in the library?

Well… the library isn’t dimly lit.

And the library definitely doesn’t have a bed.

Why did you invite him in? What was the end goal with such a stupid and impulsive decision? What the hell did you want?

Him. That much is obvious, no point dancing around that fact anymore.

But it’s purely sexual.

Obviously.

Nothing else.

You’re friends. That’s it. You’re friends and sometimes you just so happen to have brief sexual fantasies about him. Can that really be considered cheating? Is it cheating if you didn’t want to be married in the first place? If you didn’t have a choice in the matter? If he’s a disgusting slob of a man?

It doesn’t matter because you aren’t going to do anything.

Then why did you invite him in?

Maker, you're an idiot.

A stupid, stupid horny idiot.

He’s just standing there. You should say something, but you waited too long and now it’s weird. This whole thing is weird. You invited him in as friends, you’re friends after all. You spend all day in the gardens together as friends, you read together in comfortable silence as friends, you hold each other intimately on the floor of empty hallways to reassure yourselves that the other is okay as friends, you think about him when you touch yourself as friends. Kriff you need to do something, you can’t just stand across from each other in silence. Do what feels natural, you’re friends, friends are comfortable around each other. What would you be doing if he wasn’t here? Get ready for bed.

You turn to the dresser to start looking for a night gown, but you can feel the way his visor is trained on you, burning into your skin, so you grab the first thing you can find, barely looking at it and tossing it on the bed. Finally turning to look at him.

“I’m just gonna change real quick…” You whisper it, no sense speaking any louder than that, you know he’ll hear it. He simply nods, turning to face the wall, it’s the first time he’s moved since he walked in.

You go to summon Elaine and Lysa but stop yourself. How the hell would you explain him being here this late? It isn’t worth the trouble, you can get out of a dress yourself.

Except you can’t.

You were wearing one of the overcomplicated blue gowns you wore on days where you saw Kodo and you’re struggling to undo the bodice.

Fuck.

This is fine. You’ll just stay in this until he leaves. When is he going to leave? Usually someone leaves when they are done doing what they came to do but with seemingly no objective here there’s no logical reason for him to leave.

“You can turn around.” Gods, you’re embarrassing. He doesn’t speak for a moment as he turns and stares at you.

“You’re stuck.” He says it so plainly that you know he’s certain that’s the case. You wish he would make fun of you. This would be so much easier if he was taunting you, like he usually was. You could hate him and send him away. But it’s getting harder to hate him by the minute.

“It’s fine.”

“I could help?” It’s a question. He doesn’t often ask for permission with you. But he won’t do this without your permission. Why should he need permission, this is innocent enough, he’s just helping you out.

Friends help each other. That’s what they do. So you turn around so he can unlace it for you. And he’s on you before you have a chance to move somewhere else, anywhere else, but it’s too late. Without even realizing it you’ve put the two of you in front of the mirror. Well at least it can’t get worse than this.

But it does.

Because he takes off the gloves. And you can see his hands as he gives them to you to hold. Tan, calloused, littered with scars. You only get a glimpse, but it’s enough for you to realize that the hands you imagined him having don’t compare to the real thing. They’re big, you could tell that from the gloves but you hadn’t expected them to be so defined. You could write a million stupid romance novels about the vast ridges of his knuckles, or the veins that spread across them.

Maker you’re so fucked.

You can feel the dress loosening as he meticulously pulls each ribbon free, you wish it were possible to watch him do it. Instead you’re stuck staring at your stupid dumbfounded expression in the mirror, intently observing him until he finishes and immediately steps back and turns around.

You wish he had taken his time.

But you quickly slip out of the dress and don the nightgown on the bed. For Makers sake could you have grabbed a skimpier outfit? It’s practically lingerie. You reach for the silk robe hanging on the mirror and try to make yourself look as covered as possible.

“I’m decent.” You hate how small your voice sounds. He turns again and you give him his gloves back, drinking in one final glimpse of his hands.

You need to talk about what happened. Just get it out of the way.

“We should talk about it.” You take a step towards him but he flinches back, just a hair. It’s off putting to watch such an imposing man react like that so you stop dead in your tracks.

“Nothing happened.” It’s gut-wrenching to hear his voice sounding so strained. It took weeks for him to warm up to you and in an instant he had put those walls back up.

“Don’t do that.” Gods, at least try to sound less like a wounded little girl.

“I’m not doing anything.” You want to rip that stupid modulator out of his helmet for making his voice sound so cold.

“So I’m just supposed to pretend like you weren’t hyperventilating on the floor a few minutes ago?” The sympathy you had for him is rapidly depleting as you take another step towards him, trying not to raise your voice.

“Yes. That is exactly what you’re going to do.”

“No.”

“No?” The anger in his voice is palpable. Good. You want him to get fired up, you want to fight about this because at least you’ll be talking about it.

“No. We aren’t going to ignore this, we are going to have a conversation about it because you scared the hell out of me.” He scoffs, it’s sharp coming through the filter.

“You’re fine.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

It’s like the night you met. He’s standing in the middle of the room. A cold, unmoving statue of Beskar, and you, the scared little girl, charting unfamiliar waters.

“ You weren’t.” You furrow your brows as you say it. The visor is trained on you but you’re sure he isn’t looking at you. “You couldn’t even move. It was like you couldn’t see me and I was right in front of you.” The chill that runs down your spine lets you know that he’s looking at you now that you’ve said that. He takes a long stride towards you and you hold your ground, tilting your head up to keep your eyes on his helmet.

“Why are we still talking about this?” His voice is so low it’s practically a rumble.

“Because we’re friends and friends talk about these things!”

“We aren’t friends.”

Ouch.

Well you should have seen that coming. Of course he wasn’t your friend, you can’t believe you were naive to ever think that he would be, he was probably just humoring you. Now you’re the one who can’t look at him as you stare at the floor, feeling like a child who’s just been scolded.

“Of course we aren’t.” You wish you didn’t sound so bitter, as he sighs loudly.

“Come on, don’t just stand there and pout at me, you knew we weren’t friends. We can’t be.” The contempt in his voice cuts deep.

“Fuck you. Get out.” You start walking in the direction of the closet but he grabs your arm before you can get there.

“Don’t do that.” His tone is a little gentler but it does nothing to sway your temper, shoving him off of you.

“Why not. You’re right. We aren’t friends, I’m just the ditzy little princess you’re charged with watching, I don’t know why I ever thought you actually might care about me.” You’re trying not to cry at this point as you throw your hands up in defeat. “Is that what you wanted to hear? You were right. I was wrong. You win Mando, was that little episode in the hallway just now an act to get me to this point? If so you’re a fantastic actor, really had me going. I almost thought you actually gave a shit about me.” You turn sharply to open the closet door, wanting nothing more than to retreat to your pile of blankets but his large hand lands just next to your head slamming it shut. He raises his other hand so they’re boxing you in, he towers over and you scowl, your faces inches from each other now.

“Why did you invite me in?” The crackle of the filter is low and it makes you want to tear the whole helmet from his head and slap him. And maybe do a few other things while it’s off.

“I want you to leave.”

“No you don’t”

“I hate you.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to make all of this okay?”

Smoke. Metal. Fresh Linen.

“I hate you.” The back of your head is against the closet door as you take a step back, he leans down, closer to you, your forehead is practically touching Beskar.

“That’s what I tell myself to justify it all.” Gods, why do you wish you could feel his breath on your face? “So why did you invite me in, sarad’ika?” Your knees buckle slightly and his hands fly to your waist to support you. When you don’t respond he leans just an inch closer, your breath is fogging up the steel of his helmet now. “Say it again.”

“I hate you.” It’s practically a squeak as you say it this time. He hums softly in response.

“I can’t stand you.” He murmurs. “It’s like you were put on this planet to make me suffer .” His hands put the slightest bit of pressure on your hips to accentuate the end of his sentence.

“Do I really bother you that much? What have I done to you that is truly that terrible?” You do everything in your power to make it sound cold and harsh but your voice still trembles.

“Don’t play dumb cyar’ika. Don’t act like you don’t know what you do to me.” The words are labored as you savor the heat coming off of his body. “The way you torment me.” He’s practically snarling.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Of course you do. As you gingerly bring your hands up to rest on his chestplate, trying to put a distance between the two of you uselessly. You know exactly what he’s talking about because it's exactly how you feel everytime you stare into the cold and unforgiving steel of his visor. The misery of absolutely loathing a person purely because you cannot have them, because you cannot escape them. Because it’s not just that he’s always physically there, he’s there when you close your eyes and when you sleep, he lives in brain, there is nothing you can do to get rid of him. To free yourself of the brand he has burned deep into your psyche.

That can’t be what he means though.

“Why do you do it? Hmm?” He brings the helmet down to rest against your cheek, you can feel the vibration when he hums, the sensation has you arching your back before you can stop yourself but thankfully his grip holds you in place against the door.

“Do what?” You groan softly, he squeezes your waist tighter.

“ This.” He grunts. “You do all of this. You wear that green dress, read those dirty books right in front of me, for fucks sake look at you. You invited me in and you put on this?” His fingers yank at the loose hanging fabric on your hips. “ This pretty little black slip of lace? You must truly despise me to put me through this lovely little bit of torture…”

“I don’t do those things for you.” You manage to spit out. It’s sort of true, you don’t entirely do those things for him, sometimes they just happen by accident.

One of his gloved hands comes up to grip your chin. “Don’t even get me started on this filthy mouth of yours, the way you talk to me sarad, when you insult me, berate me, all I can think about is how I could make this pretty mouth talk so sweet, make you beg and whine just for me, never talk back to me again.”

Maker this isn’t real, it can’t be. You must have fallen asleep again, but he feels so solid, and palpable, and the wetness pooling between your legs certainly felt real. You’re speechless at this point as you just let out a little whimper that has him chuckling softly.

“Is that really all I had to do to make you behave? Whisper vulgar things into your ear? If I had known all you wanted was a little attention I would have done this the day I met you mesh’la. Is this what you want? I need to hear you say it.” He’s sweetened immediately and it’s making your head spin. You need to think clearly, be realistic, you can’t do this. No matter how badly you want this.

But right now it’s hard to do much of anything besides lightly scratch at his chestplate and whimper.

“Tell me to leave right now. I’ll do it, I’ll hop on the first transport ship off planet and you’ll never see me again.” You know he’s serious. He could easily do whatever he wanted with you in this position but you know him, and you know if you don’t explicitly ask for it he won’t go further than this. Why is this so hard? You know what you need to do, you need to tell him to leave, to get as far away from you as possible but you know that it would never be far enough. There is nowhere he could go that would free you from this agony .

“W-we can’t do this.” You manage to stutter out, your eyes are squeezed shut at this point, just trying to stop any more noises from slipping out.

“Then tell me to leave.” He says it almost like it’s what he really wants, that he knows, just like you do, that there’s no coming back from this.

“I hate you. Every part” Stars, why can’t you just tell him to go?

“I know you do cyar’ika.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, he can probably hear it. You need to convince him that you can’t do this, because you know you can’t stop yourself, it has to be him.

“Do you know what would happen if we were caught?” You breathe out, grabbing the sides of his helmet to pull him back slightly so you can stare into the thin black line.

“I know.”

“They’d hang us both.”

“They’d hang me.”

You know he’s right. They’d be substantially worse to him, you’d most likely just be locked away until it was time to produce an heir.

“They’d hang you.” You whisper.

“The moment anyone found out I would be swarmed by guards. They’d lock me up and throw away the key.” His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly

“They’d do worse than that.” For fucks sake, everything you’re saying is true and you know it, why isn’t this making either of you stop.

“They’d torture me.” He says it so plainly, like it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

“They’d torture you.”

“They’d cut out my tongue if they knew what I wanted to do to you.” Then why does he sound like he doesn’t care?

“Then don’t do it, it isn’t worth it.”

“I could do most of it without a tongue.”

“I’d miss your tongue.” You need to stop.

“Would you?”

“I would.” You would.

“I thought you hated my tongue. Every part of me .”

“I do. But it would be a shame for them to cut it out before I get to put it to good use.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Maker, did he just growl?

“You don’t like it?”

“You’re supposed to be telling me to leave. Keep talking like that and I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Then don’t stop yourself.”

“Tell me to leave sarad’ika.”

“Stay.”

And that’s all it takes. He hauls you over his shoulder and before you can even process what’s happening you’re being thrown down on the bed. He’s hastily removing things, buckles and belts, tossing them aside with his gloves as he pulls his cowl over his helmet, letting his cape fall to the floor as he drops the pack on top of it, you can’t help it as you reach up and grab the edge of his chestplate pulling him closer.

“Don’t bother, can’t wait.” Is all you say as you trace your fingertips across his now exposed neck, you can work around the flight suit and armor. His now bare hands find your waist again, this time tearing the fabric to shreds as he rips the negligee off of you, tossing the scraps to the side. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed about your bare chest being exposed to him now as his hands found the hem of your panties.

“Do you need these?” He says breathlessly, his visor keeps moving ever so slightly across your body like he doesn’t know where to look as you shake your head no.

“I have plenty of others.” That’s all he needs to hear before those are ripped to shreds too and he’s crawling onto the bed to hover above you, his hands slide under your thighs to scooch you upwards so his head is closer to your stomach. He wastes no time as he pushes your legs up to bend your knees so he can access all of you. You can hear the soft gasps from the modulator.

“Sarad… bid mesh’la.” One of his hands presses to your inner thigh as he spreads your legs wider for him, his other hand moves up to swipe two fingers through your folds. “Cuyir ibic an par ni?” It’s like he’s talking to himself as he holds them up so you can see how wet they are. Your face turns red at the sight. “Is this all for me sarad?” You put your hands over your face sheepishly as you nod, you barely register the sound of air hissing as you peek through your fingers just long enough to watch as he slips his hand under his helmet to suck his fingers clean, letting out a low breathy moan.

Maker, you don’t stand a chance.

“Fuck, Mando, quit stalling.” You whine out, bringing your own hand between your legs in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that’s building there. One of his hands gently grabs your wrists, effortlessly pinning them above your head as he clicks his tongue.

“Needly little thing.” He chuckles as his other hand traces down your body, stopping to palm your breast, going between them as you whined, squirming under his grasp, there’s got to be a wet spot on the sheets already as he continues to taunt you, lazily rolling one of your nipples between his fingers. “So pretty mesh’la. I knew you’d be so perfect, smooth and soft under my hands.” He pinches the nipple he was playing with making you squeal. “You have to be quiet sarad. Can you do that for me?” He rubs circles over your tit with his thumb, soothing the ache as you nod. “Good girl.” You can practically hear the grin on his face as you flush red at the praise. He releases your wrists as he brings both hands down across your chest now, following the blush before finally one of his hands dips between your thighs.

“Please Mando…” You whisper as your hands grip the sheets. His fingers massaging your inner thigh, deliberately avoiding your core.

“Please what, princess?” Maker, he sounds so smug.

“Gods, I hate you.” You squirm uselessly underneath him, not bothering to try and touch yourself, you know he’d stop you. His gravely laugh seeps out of the modulator.

“I like you like this, my little star flower.” One of his hands smacks your thigh, it isn’t that hard but you still have to bite back a moan. “I wish I'd known how easy it was to make you behave. I’d have bent you over and done this weeks ago if I knew it would have the effect on you.”

“Maker, are you going to touch me or are you going to just talk all night Mand-” Your voice catches in your throat as he slides two fingers into you without warning. Your back arching off the mattress until his other hand rests on your lower stomach, pushing you back down. He hums as he slowly draws them out before driving them back home forcing a choked out groan from you. You were right, he does feel better than your own fingers as he slowly and deliberately fucks you with his hand, his helmet moving back and forth to watch his digits slip in and out of you to your face as you bring a hand to your mouth to try and quiet the obscene noises that start slipping out.

“Maybe next time you mouth off to me I’ll just do this, would you like that?”

Overconfident son of a bitch.

You’re having a hard time thinking of a witty comeback and when you don’t respond he hums softly, curling his fingers to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

“Naughty. Speak up princess.” The warm drawl of his voice is suffocating as he curls his fingers again, your body trying desperately to writhe at the sensation but his other hand keeps you held in this position. “Use your words. I know you can, you’re always so mouthy” His tone is mocking as he curls his fingers again ruthlessly and your other hand flies down to his wrist.

“Yes.” You manage to yelp you as he withdrawals his fingers and you whine softly at the feeling, trying to keep hold on his wrist to bring him back against you. He tuts as he brings the hand to his pants as he unzips the flightsuit and you sit up on your elbows to get a good look as his cock springs free. He lazily strokes himself, using your slick as a lubricant, his visor trained on your face as you let out a small gasp.

Of course he’s so arrogant. With a dick like that anyone would be, he’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever seen and just generally nice to look at. You didn’t even know it was possible to have such an attractive cock. It’s hefty, thick, veiny like his hands, the tip is such a pretty shade of pink as he swipes his thumb across the beads of pre-cum that spill out, drawing a sharp inhale from him. He leans forward slightly and slides the head through your folds making you fall back onto the bed, your head sinking into the mattress as you whine. You’re waiting for the delicious sting of him pushing in but of course he doesn’t. You lift your eyes to stare into the visor, he’s looking at you expectantly, you can virtually see the smirk on his face.

“Be a good girl, princess. You know what I want.” He rubs the tip against your neglected clit and you cry out softly, reaching up to grip his shoulders.

“You’re such an ass.” You manage to gasp out as you try to hook a leg around his waist to pull him against you but of course he’s able to stay exactly where he is as he continues to leisurely stroke himself, bumping the head of his cock against your clit every so often, watching as you squirm. After a few moments of watching you wriggle under him he pulls back ever so slightly causing you to whine, leaning forward to grab his arms, uselessly pulling him back towards you.

“I thought you didn’t want it?” He says in that stupid condescending tone. Even now he’s insufferable but you can’t help it, you’re so worked up at this point you’ll do damn near anything to get him inside you.

“Please.” You whine softly. He hesitates before he leans back down, one hand gripping your hips as his other lines himself up with your entrance. Your hands squeeze his shoulders, trying to get any sort of leverage to force him into you.

“Please what sarad?” He tilts his head ever so slightly to the left.

Oh you’re gonna kill him.

After.

“Please, for Makers sake just fuck me already.” You groan out, you only get to roll your eyes for a second before he snaps his hips forward, pushing himself only halfway into you but the stretch is immense as you scratch into his arms, whining loudly, the dull pain is worth it though as he brings his helmet down against the mattress next to yours so you can hear the guttural moan that falls from the modulator. Both his hands are on your hips now as he digs his fingers into the skin, trying to steady himself, you’re definitely gonna have bruises. He lies breathlessly on top of you for a few moments before he speaks again.

“Are you okay mesh’la? Are you okay if I move?” His voice is tense and you can hear him panting, you’re surprised you don’t cum right then and there as you nod against his shoulder, your nails scratching at his back now to stabilize yourself.

“Yes, please, please Mando” You breathlessly mumble, shifting your hips slightly, wincing as you take a bit more of him and that’s all the permission he needs to grab your hips and gradually pull you down on to his length. By the time he’s fully inside of you you’re a whining mess.

Who needs dignity? Not you. Not when you can hear the Mandalorian groaning in your ear, mumbling incoherently in Mando’a to himself as his cock twitches inside you.

He isn’t moving, you know he’s trying to catch his breath but Maker he feels so good and you don’t feel like waiting so you gingerly pry one of his hands off of your waist and guide it down between your legs, that seems to bring him back to reality as he starts rubbing small circles against your clit which has you keening immediately. He still doesn’t move inside of you as he intently watches you gasping and moaning, you shut your eyes tight as he brushes his fingertips slowly across your swollen bud.

Of course he’s him so he doesn’t let you enjoy it for long because once you’re thrashing underneath him because you’re so close he draws his hand back and you breathlessly grab his wrist.

“Don’t you dare.” You give him as stern a look as you can but it sounds more like a plea. That gets a small laugh from him as he ever so slightly pulls out before slamming himself back into you, watching as your mouth falls open in a silent scream.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckles as he repeats the motion, pulling out ever so slightly before fully sheathing himself once more, you’re seeing stars again.

“If you don't put your kriffing hand back between my legs I won’t ever let you do this again.” You try to scowl at him but all it takes is another snap of his hips before you’ve lost all your resolve. He finally picks up the pace, slamming his hips against yours, the thrusts growing brutal as he unravels you to nothing but whimpers as you claw uselessly at his shoulders. You’re pathetically whining now, it’s unfair how easily he’s able to get you there. It’s almost like he knows how close you are as he lets out a small groan when you clench around him, his hips stuttering slightly.

“Ask nicely, princess.” He grunts out as he picks up the punishing pace once more. “Use your manners and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He growls as he brings his hands to your thighs to force them against your stomach, letting him push into you deeper. The feeling makes your head spin, the knot in your stomach tightens immediately as you let out a high pitched whine.

“Please… for fucks sake, let me cum or I’m gonna rip your stupid perfect cock off the second we’re done.” You manage to grunt out through gritted teeth. He chuckles breathlessly as he brings his hand back to your clit, pressing rough and rapid circles against it.

“We’ll work on that.” He laughs softly as you can feel yourself rapidly slipping back towards that edge and before you know it you’re right there again. He doesn’t let up on his ruthless motions this time as you finally reach your peak.

You’re loud.

Probably too loud.

But Maker, he loves it. It’s like it’s fueling him because he’s chanting your name and mumbling in Mando’a again as his thrusts grow sloppy and you manage to open your eyes just in time to watch him pull out and frantically stroke himself as he cums with a low growl, his other hand locked around your thigh as he shoots his load onto your stomach.

It’s oddly gratifying to watch as he writhes, kneeling over you as his chest heaves. Collapsing down next to you once he’s finished, gasping for air. A nice reminder that under all the talk he is still just a man. Your man.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

You fucking idiot. That’s not what this was. This was…

Shit what was this?

Casual sex.

Friends with benefits.

You can’t just have sex one time and start calling him your man are you crazy? You’re still married.

Fuck. You’re married.

You turn your head slightly to look at him.

If you didn’t know what to say to him an hour ago you definitely don’t know what to say to him now.

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #RE UPLOAD #din djarin smut #mandalorian smut

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