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azrielbrainrot · 9 months ago

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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: You're back home right when Azriel was starting to lose all hope, but is the person standing in front of him the same who disappeared all those years ago?

Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury

Word Count: 6670

Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 ○ Part 3

Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.

Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.

His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.

In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.

Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.

He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.

You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.

As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.

He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.

Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.

He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.

He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.

His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.

His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.

“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.

“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.

He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.

Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.

Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.

Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.

He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.

“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.

He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.

He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.

“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.

“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.

“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.

“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”

“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.

Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.

“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”

“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.

“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.

“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.

He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.

“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?

Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.

Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.

“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.

“I will not leave her.”

“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.

Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.

He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.

He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.

Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.

“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.

“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”

He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.

“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.

When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.

Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.

Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.

That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.

“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.

“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”

“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.

“Why would she hurt you then?”

“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.

“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.

“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”

“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?

“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.

“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”

“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”

Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.

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You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.

You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.

The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.

You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.

Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.

Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.

You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.

As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.

You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.

As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.

You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.

You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.

The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.

When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.

“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.

“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.

“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.

Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.

The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.

As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.

If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.

Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.

Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.

You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.

When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.

Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.

You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.

A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?

“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.

Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.

You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?

Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.

“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.

He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.

You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.

“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.

Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.

“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.

“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.

You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.

The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.

“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar

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riddlesb1tch · 3 months ago

Text

Under the Stars

Azriel x reader

summary: years ago you made a pact with Azriel that if the two of you were single in 20 years, you'd marry each other. As you two reflect on this promise years later, Azriel admits something that he has been hiding since that day.

warnings: none!

Azriel stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, his elbows resting on the railing as he gazed up at the stars. You could see the tightness in his shoulders, the way his posture was just a little too stiff. It was clear that he was in pain, his heart breaking in a way that made yours ache for him. You had no idea why, though. He had been upset the whole day and refused to speak with anyone.

You moved quietly to his side, mirroring his stance, and offered a gentle, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied, his voice soft but carrying a depth of sadness that cut through you.

Looking up at the night sky, you ventured, “Wanna tell me why you’re sad?”

Azriel inhaled deeply and after a couple of seconds spoke so softly you barely heard him. “What if I can’t find anyone? What if no one likes me?”

Furrowing your brows, you turned to him. “Why would you think that?” you asked.

Azriel shrugged, mumbling, “I don’t know,” while looking down at his hands. “Maybe I’ll always be too much of a weirdo for love,” he let out a hollow laugh.

“You’re not too much of a weirdo,” you said softly. “You’re just the right amount of weird, Az. I’m sure one of these days, someone will come along who will love you exactly as you are. They won’t try to change you or ask you to give more than you have, and they won’t give you for the world.”

Azriel gave a hollow laugh, the sound devoid of true humour. “It’s been five centuries. I can’t imagine a miracle happening now.”

Your heart twisted further at the weight of his words. The pain etched into his features and the hopelessness in his eyes were almost too much to bear. You took a deep breath and decided to offer a glimmer of light.

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound more upbeat, “if things don’t work out, we could always marry each other.”

He turned to you, a surprised smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What?”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, trying to keep the mood light. “If, in 20 years, we’re both still single, let’s make a pact. We’ll marry each other.”

Azriel’s gaze was sceptical but intrigued. “Why would you want that?”

You took a moment to consider your answer, glancing up at the stars once more before meeting his eyes. “Well, we’ve been friends for over a century. We know each other well, and we get along great. We live in the same house, so there’s really nothing we don’t know about each other. And,” you added softly, “I care about you, Az.”

His eyes softened, and a warmth spread through his gaze as he looked at you. “I care about you, too, Y/n.”

A genuine smile broke across your face at his words. “So it’s settled, then! In 20 years, if we’re still single, we’ll marry each other.” You extended your hand toward him, hoping he would agree.

Azriel hesitated for a moment, a mixture of scepticism and amusement dancing across his features. Then he reached out, his hand clasping yours firmly. “Deal,” he said with a small, hopeful smile.

You squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring look. “I won’t let you die alone, Shadowsinger,” you whispered. “You’re much too precious for that.”

At that moment, Azriel looked at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky. He pulled you into a tight hug and you felt the tension leave his shoulders.

You chuckled softly as Liam animatedly recounted the stories from your date. When you reached your door, he gave you a wistful smile, the kind that suggested he wished the evening could last a bit longer.

“So is this where the night ends?” he asked, his tone betraying a hint of disappointment.

You mirrored his expression, nodding solemnly. “It’s not goodbye,” you ventured, a soft smile touching your lips. “We will see each other again.”

Liam’s face brightened slightly. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, his lips warm and lingering for a brief moment. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” he called cheerfully as he turned and walked away, his steps echoing softly down the hallway.

Smiling, you winnowed inside the House of Wind, the familiar warmth of the house wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The house was quiet, as expected. Cassian and Nesta had gone away for the weekend to a secluded cabin to celebrate their first anniversary, leaving just you and Azriel behind. You assumed Azriel had gone out too since he hadn’t mentioned any plans, and fatigue from your date was beginning to weigh on you.

As you made your way to your room, the muffled sounds of grunting and punching reached your ears. Curious and concerned, you realized that Azriel was on the rooftop training.

Deciding to check on him, you headed towards the roof. The cool, crisp night air hit your face as you stepped into the open training ring. The sight before you was striking: Azriel stood in the centre of the ring, his hands clenched into fists, his focus fixed intently on the punching bag. The bag swung with each of his forceful strikes, and his movements were charged with a pent-up intensity that made the air around him almost crackle.

You took a moment to admire Azriel, appreciating his physicality—the way his muscles flexed with each punch, the fluidity of his movements, the raw strength he exuded. Though nothing romantic had ever happened between the two of you, you couldn’t deny that Azriel was strikingly handsome. His sharp, defined features, and dark hair contrasting with his light eyes, paired with his impressive physique, made him undeniably captivating.

“Hey there,” he greeted, his voice carrying a smirk as he glanced over at you.

You felt a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks but tried to maintain a casual demeanour. Leaning against the doorframe, you crossed your arms over your chest. “So what did the poor punching bag do to you? You’re hitting it like it stole your bride.”

Azriel chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. He hung his head slightly, shaking off the tension, and moved to the bench at the corner of the training area. He sank onto the bench, grabbing his water bottle with a sigh of relief. You followed and took a seat next to him.

“How’d the date go?” he asked, his voice a mix of casual curiosity and concern.

You sighed, staring at the starry night sky of Velaris. “It was okay,” you admitted, your voice carrying a note of resignation.

“Uh oh,” Azriel said, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. “Did he do something shitty? Did he say ‘pacifically’ instead of ‘specifically’?” he teased.

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, no, he was actually really nice. I just didn’t feel like he was right for me,” you said. “You know?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, nodding in understanding.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, gazing at the vast, twinkling expanse above. Your gaze eventually drifted to Azriel’s hands, and you noticed the bloodied and bruised knuckles, evidence of his intense training session.

“You’re bleeding,” you said, your voice gentle but laced with concern as you reached for his hand to inspect it up close. The sight of his battered knuckles tugged at your heart.

Azriel dismissed your concern with a casual wave. “It’s nothing. Just been at it for a while,” he said nonchalantly.

You frowned, disapproval evident in your eyes. Turning to his shadows, which had been hovering around you both, you whispered, “Can you bring me a first aid kit?” The shadows bobbed up and down as if nodding in agreement before darting out of the room.

Azriel looked at you and his shadows with surprise. “Since when do they listen to you?” he asked, his astonishment clear.

“They always have,” you replied with a shrug. “You didn’t know?”

He shook his head, clearly amazed.

The shadows soon returned, depositing a rectangular box in your lap. You opened it, retrieved the alcohol and cotton pads, and set the kit aside. Gently, you resumed tending to Azriel’s wounds, dabbing the alcohol-soaked cotton on his knuckles, slowly and carefully cleaning away the blood. As you worked, Azriel’s eyes remained fixed on your face—observing your concentration, the kindness in your eyes, and the tenderness of your touch.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You looked up, offering him a soft smile. “It’s no problem,” you replied.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the only sound the rustling of the night wind and the occasional hum of the city below. You continued to work on his hands, your fingers brushing against his skin with a soothing touch, while Azriel turned his gaze back to the sky.

After a few moments, he spoke again, his voice reflective. “Do you remember 20 years ago when we were standing right over there?” He gestured toward the railing. “And we made that promise to each other—that if we were both single in 20 years, we’d marry each other?” His smile was wistful, a touch of nostalgia in his eyes.

You turned to look at the spot he indicated, your smile mirroring his. “Yeah,” you whispered. “Crazy how fast time flies.”

You finished cleaning his hands but didn’t let go. Instead, you held his hand gently between your own, your fingers tracing the lines of his scars with a delicate touch.

“So are you still down for it?” Azriel asked, his eyes softened by an earnest hope.

You were taken aback by the question but managed a soft smile. “Yeah, I am.”

Azriel sighed in relief, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “Because, truth be told, Y/n, I’ve been yours since the day we made that promise,” he confessed, his gaze unwavering as he looked deeply into your eyes.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at him, stunned. “What?” you whispered, barely able to comprehend his words.

“It’s true,” he continued quietly. “I’ve avoided every long-term relationship with the hope that one day, we’d end up together, Y/n.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words, your mind reeling. Then, with a shaky breath, you replied, “Well, if only you had said that 20 years ago, we could have been celebrating our 20th anniversary today.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his head hanging in a sheepish gesture. “Forgive me, my dear. I’m not the best at expressing my feelings.”

“No, you are not,” you agreed with a light laugh. “But I’d be happy to teach you,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth.

“And there is no one else I’d rather learn from,” Azriel whispered before leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and fervent, a culmination of all the years of unspoken feelings and promises.

Masterlist

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #acotar fluff #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel imagine #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger fluff #azriel fluff

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utterlyotterlyx · 5 months ago

Text

A Ballad of Storm and Shadow

Azriel x F!Reader

Part One

Summary - Rhys had been content in taking the darkest secret of his family to the grave, but when the threat of Hybern increases, he has no choice but to send a message to another world and pray to the Mother that his call is answered.

Warnings - angst, mentions of war, tension, fluff, touch of sadness and longing

This is a crossover series, some aspects will differ from that in the books. Physical attributes are described in this fic, it is essential to the storyline of the character

Rain spattered against the ledge, the open window allowing the tears of the sky to coat the black glossed paint with their sadness. Azriel watched them inquisitively, noting how each droplet fell further into the room than the last, his shadows pecked along the ground to dry the dampened spots and it was a welcome distraction from the conversation encircling the room.

The storm raged on overhead, cracks of lightening slicing across the sky every few moments, the clouds rumbling their anger throughout the city. A harmony to the idea of war.

There was no avoiding it. The war, that is. It had consumed Azriel's every thought as he played out every possible scenario in his mind, ones where they all made it out alive, and the ones where they all perished alongside Prythian. It was those visions that kept him up at night, flashes of Cassian's bloodied face lifeless against the earth, wings torn and soul withered, were enough to make him desperate enough to the point that he'd give anything to avoid it.

Azriel ran his marred hands over the curve of his leathers, soothing down each muscle and drifting over every glowering siphon attached to his body, doing his best to pull himself from the images that plagued his waking moments and sleepless nights.

If Rhys were speaking then Azriel would have been listening, but, surprisingly, he wasn't. Rhys stared dead ahead, nails digging into his nails beds and jaw clenching along with the reeling thoughts plaguing his own mind, staring right ahead at the corner of the table placed in the centre of the seating area at the River House. Azriel wasn't the only one who noticed, Amren had halted her words to slice through his train his thought, "Are you going to say anything?"

Rhys' gaze pulled from its formerly trained spot at the table edge toward his second in command, and it was clear that there was something he wasn't sharing with his family. His eyes drifted about the room, landing on each one of them in turn before they landed on Feyre and wavered slightly. Azriel couldn't blame his brother for his fear, he had finally gotten everything he had ever wanted after all the horrors he had endured, and now that picture perfect life was being threatened.

But something still wasn't right. Rhys was too consumed in his mind to pay any real attention to what Amren was saying, what plans were being spoken of, and that wasn't like Rhys. It wasn't like Rhys at all to blatantly ignore words spoken that could aid them in their collective efforts against Hybern. Azriel couldn't exactly be too picky about it though, considering he too was ignoring the firedrake fumbling plans into fruition, also too consumed by his own demons.

"The High Lords will be convening in three days time," his words were tense, his eyes burning, "Give me one night to think. We can start on this tomorrow," Rhys ran his hand over his face and leaned back in his chair, inhaling deeply and pinching the bridge of his now.

"The future of this continent, your home, is threatened, and you wish to speak of this tomorrow?" Amren scoffed, her silver eyes dancing under the faelight in warning.

Rhys rose from his seat, having had enough of the incessant drawls of war and death and offered Feyre his hand, a hand that she took willingly and stood at his side, fingers wrapped around his forearm and body drifting beside him, "Yes, I do. I cannot think when this is all you're speaking of, Amren. I am High Lord, and I need to think about how to spare my family and my people from this."

Instead of retorting in a way only she could, Amren contained her fury and buried it deep within her core, "Fine." Amren almost spat at his feet, but he paid no mind to it, he didn’t have the energy to go head-to-head with Amren that night, not when there was a much more pressing matter to attend to.

So, Rhys took Feyre to bed, and made sure that she was sound asleep before removing himself from her embrace. He threw an onyx silken shirt over his body but didn’t bother strewing up any of the buttons, content in allowing the night air to glide across his skin, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to able to appreciate its touch.

The High Lord of Night paced through the River House swiftly, not wanting to disturb any member of his family or alert them to his movements, and as soon as he stood on an ornately stunning balcony, the same he had stood on with Feyre that night on Starfall, did he unfurl his glorious wings and take to the skies, determined to reach the place that he hadn’t visited in over 200 years. A pool of starlight lay within a small valley within the mountains, not too far from the cabin but recluse enough for no one to be able to find it unless they knew that it lay there.

It had been too long since he had been there, but the all too familiar aura curled around him like a lost hound and pulled him down to it. The pool twinkled in greeting, reflecting the endless wonder of the sky above, and Rhys then remembered just how small it was, and just how long it had been since he peered into it or drifted his fingers along its rippling surface.

None other than he knew of what it truly was - not even his mate- it was a thin veil between worlds, a veil he used to send messages through often in hope that they’d find the one intended for, and he would wait for hours at a time for a whisper of a response. One time he had waited an entire day, desperate to hear her voice on the wind, hauntingly mesmerising like a siren to a sea captain, replying to his message with her usual level of warmth and understanding.

Then one day he just stopped visiting the place, the weight of her void had become too much to bear, too much that he had made the selfish decision to try and move on, to live his life in anyway that he could. Part of Rhys thought that she would have commended him for it, that she would have understood and that she was somewhere and knew of his strength, pain, and success of finding his mate.

But it had been so long. Rhys wasn’t sure if the pool was being monitored from her end, and he was terrified that his plea would fall upon deaf ears. But she was the only one who could help them, the only one powerful enough to give them any real chance of surviving. That power was the reason she had been sent away in the first place.

Rhys fell to his knees at the bank of the water, the contact of his markings without their twin flames in the snow causing the pool to ripple and hum with eons old yearning, and the stars within it began to glow, eager and ready to pull his words from his lips and sail them through the veil. He lowered himself to the surface, his face reflecting in the water showing him just how exhausted he had appeared, and the pool knew it, it knew of his desperation and rippled in a way that Rhys was sure it would split open at any given moment.

But, the water settled and shuddered, the gate between him and the one he thought of often still firmly in place.

"I'm sorry that it's been so long," he began, not knowing what to say to soften the blow but wanting to believe that she wasn't angry at him for it, and hoping that she too was thriving wherever her feet carried her. "If it means anything, I have missed you, and not a day has passed where I haven't thought of you," he fiddled with his fingers, his breath sending gentle wisps of steam rising into the air, "I found my mate. You'd like her, I think. She's my High Lady now, things have certainly changed."

"We are going to war. The Cauldron is in the grasp of our enemy and it threatens to devour the continent as we know it, and I fear that none of us with survive the destruction. I suppose I just wanted to speak to you, to say that I'm sorry I haven't visited in so long, and to let you know that I love you despite our distance. I may not survive what's to come, but I just wanted you to know that, and if there's any way you could come and save my ass then that would be greatly appreciated," he spoke the last words with a soft chuckle.

Rhys often thought of what she looked like, she had been only a girl when she was sent away, thrust through a portal with no way of knowing how to get back if she wished it. The day he heard her whisper through the pool had been the best day of his life, and on some level, he knew it still was in a sense. In those days, Rhys knew that she was alive, she may have been struggling but at least her heart was still beating and soul was raining havoc.

He wasn't sure of what he was expecting, he knew the chances of a reply were slim to nothing, but his heart still sank when the pool rippled with intoxicating silence.

Rhys waited another hour at least, but when the stars within the pool began to dim, he knew that it was time to leave. He rose to his feet, his soul solemn and heavy, and he couldn't bring himself to glance backward at the water as he ascended to the skies.

It was a pity really, for if he had turned around for but a moment, he would have seen the pool sparkle to life.

Azriel was curious.

It wasn't often that he found Rhys to be hiding something from him, or any of them for that matter. It was the beauty of their shared family, they knew all of the worst things about one another, from actions to thoughts, and nothing was counted as being too ferocious to accept.

But Azriel knew that Rhys was hiding something, his High Lord had been on edge from the moment he had returned to the River House after sneaking out that night, under the impression that no one had known of his time away. But Azriel knew everything, every single move was accounted for thanks to his shadows and his own keen hearing.

The Shadowsinger had merely thought that Rhys needed a moment to himself to think, but as the time stretched on, it seemed that Rhys was on a mission of sorts, and Azriel's suspicions became clear when he saw his brother the next morning, hair askew and eyes occasionally flickering through the window to a certain spot against the mountain face.

Rhys had worn the same expression for three days, not even Feyre could get him to talk to her about what it was that had him so concerned. But Azriel couldn't miss the longing in his eyes each time he passed by the window, like he was expecting someone to float up to the glass pane and solve all of their problems.

The day had come to meet with the High Lords, and the location had been set at the Dawn Court Palace, Thesan had always been the perfect mediator, besides, Cassian had been banned from Summer which automatically ruled that location from the list.

To Azriel's understanding, Rhys hadn't uttered a single word to anyone all morning, not even a single scold toward Cassian and Mor for their incessant bickering. It was worrying Feyre, Azriel noticed, he saw the emotion sketched into her furrowed brow each time she would try and speak to her mate to only be ignored. It seemed as though only Azriel and Feyre, and perhaps Amren, had noticed it.

The silence continued all the way to the Dawn Court, and Rhys' brooding only lightened when Helion appeared after his lacklustre greeting to Kallias and Viviane, spurring Rhys to remember the reason why they were there, what they had to do in order to give Prythian a fighting chance against Hybern and the Cauldron.

Helion jerked his chin toward Feyre, asking, "Does Tamlin know what she is?"

Rhys, his sadness wavering for a moment as they stood before the doors to the meeting chamber, spoke, "If you mean beautiful and clever, then yes - I think he does."

Azriel watched Helion closely, taking a tentative step toward his High Lord and Lady as the High Lord of Day sent Rhys a unimpressed flat glare, "Does he know that she is your mate, and High Lady?"

Ignoring Viviane's squeal, Rhys answered, picking a loose thread from his jacket and allowing it to float to the ground, "If he arrives then I suppose we will find out."

"I always liked you, Rhysand," Helion said after a lethally dark chuckle, knowing just how powerful he was in comparison to Rhys' brothers; he rolled his shoulders and glanced to Nesta, his gaze lingering whilst he enquired of who she was.

"She is my sister," Azriel didn't miss the muffled flinch that sliced across Rhys' face, "She will tell her story when the others are here."

Skittering steps against the pale golden stone pulled the attention of the Inner Circle toward Thesan who was surrounded by his highly alert Peregryns, beings who seemed a little too on edge.

"I hate to interrupt," Thesan drawled with wary eyes before they landed on Rhys, "But there is a woman I have never seen before in the meeting chamber, she says that you sent for her."

No one could miss how Rhys' entire body language changed from lax to urgent, his posture straightening and eyes boring into the doors of the chamber as though he could see through them; his breathing quickened, and it became apparent that whoever the woman was had been the cause of his ire for the last three days.

Begrudgingly, Rhys followed Thesan's order to wait for the others, Tarquin seemed less than pleased to be stood before Rhys, and it wasn't long until Beron and Eris rounded the corner of the corridor, sneering and spitting their horrid words, sending warning glares to Cassian and Azriel in particular for the scuffle between the two courts over the now High Lady of the Night Court and Lucien Vanserra.

Opening the doors, the woman lounging in the chair facing their entrance was not the person Rhys had been longing to see, Azriel deduced that much from the instant droop of his shoulders before he fully even saw her face. She sat in one of the deep rooted chairs, legs strewn over the arm and a dagger pricking into each one of her fingers, not hard enough to break the skin.

She was glad in a green dress that extenuated her long legs and her utterly wild scent had enveloped the room, a scent of lemon verbena and crackling embers, her blonde hair was well tamed and pinned backward in a loose yet luxurious ensemble, and power poured off of her in searing waves.

"And who exactly are you?"

A grin formed on her lips at the defensive question directed her way by Helion, and she rolled her eyes incredulously in response, sliding her legs from the arm and propping her elbows upon them, "Is that any way to greet a guest?" The tip of her dagger scratched into the wood of her seat, a curved and lethal weapon not of Prythian, "They really don't have any manners," she spoke loudly, directing the comment elsewhere.

Large hands clasped around the back of her seat and a flash of white hair reflected against the dying sunlight, "She did tell us that they were going to be apprehensive of us, Fireheart." The woman hummed, seemingly unphased by who she was trapped in a room with, anyone else would have been quaking in their boots at the knowledge of it.

"I didn't think she was being serious-"

"You haven't answered the question. Tell us who you are and why you're here, or-"

"Or what?" The woman's gold ringed eyes glistened, hungry and bristling with a flame Rhys, nor any of them, had ever witnessed. She rose from the seat, "You'll hurt us? I'd like to see you try."

Azriel stuck to Feyre and Rhys, sizing up the male with the tattoos in an ancient language littered down the side of his face, and that only seemed to make the male smirk, "Don't think about it. You wouldn't last a minute."

Tension simmered in the chamber, the High Lords of Prythian bar one faced the two strangers who looked much like them but were different in every single way imaginable.

Only when a click of heels entered the room followed by an exasperated sigh, did the two strangers grin, their offensive stance dissipating before Rhys' very eyes as they turned to make room for another.

"You'll come to rather enjoy Aelin's wit," a voice as mesmerising as the crashing summer waves called into the simmering silence, a voice so perfect that it had Rhys almost whimpering in disbelief as he took a step forward. Another woman appeared adorning a playful smirk, "And the vein in Rowan's forehead."

Azriel studied her, even his shadows couldn't stop themselves from peeking over his shoulders at the sound of her melodic voice, one so calming that it had them dancing toward it. She was by far one of the most incredible creatures Azriel had ever seen, dressed in an impeccable midnight blue gown that exposed her taut legs, allowing Azriel to see the two markings delicately placed below her knees, the twins to Rhys' own. Her hair was as dark as the night and swaying with each step, eyes as violet as the summer horizon that were lovingly teasing her companions, and she moved with a grace Azriel had never encountered in all of his years. A crown composed of onyx stone flowers and jewels curled around her head and glittered in the slowly decaying light, it was delicate and rested just over her ears, keeping her skin free from the imprint of it.

But it wasn't the crown nor the dress that had really stolen Azriel's eye, no, it was the pristine pair of feathered wings that were tucked neatly behind her back, not wings of an Illyrian, but wings of some form of angel Azriel presumed. They resembled the night sky, black and speckled with silver, and the longer Azriel focused on them, the more he struggled to believe that they weren't enriched feathers of pure starlight.

Rhys loosened a breath of disbelief, and his bottom lip quaked softly as he took her in, eyes trailing up her form and resting on her face, not believing who was stood before him but thanking the Mother all the same, "You came."

With her dress swaying in the breeze infiltrating the room from the open arches of the chamber, she faced Rhys and smiled sadly, taking a moment to drink him in just as he had with her before she answered, "You called."

"I didn't think you heard me," he took another step toward the curve of the pool, slowly but surely closing the gap between them, "You've grown."

"I've always heard you," their features were so strikingly similar, and Azriel was grasping onto any memory or mention of the female before his eyes, "And, if I hadn't have grown in over 500 years I'd be quite concerned."

Rhys laughed, throwing his head back and lips stretching into a smile of pure bliss, he didn't stop his steps this time, no, he allowed his feet to carry him all the way to her and bundled her up in his embrace, inhaling the scent of her deeply into his lungs "Hello sister."

Sister.

The two strangers, Aelin and Rowan, took a step back, serene smiles on their faces as they watched, seemingly understanding what it meant for the Rhys and the female, "Hello you," she replied, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly, "Someone mentioned that you have a mate now?"

Rhys pulled backward and sent her a look of wonderment, "I do. Feyre, darling? Would you?" He extended an arm out to her and Feyre wasted no time in joining him, "This is y/n. My sister."

"Well, half-sister, but we don't take notice of the specifics," she grinned at Rhys and softly nudged him, "It's an honour to meet you, Feyre Cursebreaker."

"How do you-"

She waved her hand dismissively, "I know many things."

"It's true, it's extremely annoying," Aelin spoke flatly nestled under Rowan's arm, the fire in her eyes softening.

Glancing about, Azriel became completely aware of just how much the beauty of y/n had captured the attention of all within the room, from the hue of her skin to the glossy black of her hair, from the curve of her jaw to the strikingly vibrant eyes that had stolen Azriel's breath from the moment the light had hit them.

She was undeniably Rhys' sister, but Azriel was sure that Rhys had only ever had one, and she died years ago.

"I'm sorry, but how?" Cassian couldn't help but ask, drawing the attention of everyone to him, he glanced to Azriel who shrugged, confirming that he knew nothing of the female before their very eyes.

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes dimming slightly and promised, "My," she looked to Rhys for a moment, "Our story-" her gaze returned to Cassian, but not before gently floating over Azriel and widening slightly, "-is one for a different day. Prythian is in danger and you need help, I'm here to provide it."

"What about us?"

"One more word Aelin and I'll send you back home, I'm sure Aedion would love to take your place."

Aelin gasped, "You don't mean that."

"Try me. See where you land this time round."

Aelin grimaced, recounting the time y/n had shoved her through one of her fancy test portals to only land in the foulest smelling swamp she had ever experienced. She kept her lips sealed and moved to the seat where she had been sat minutes before with a forced smile, prompting the rest of the occupants of the chamber to do the same.

The Shadowsinger moved with the rest of the Inner Circle, finding his place beside his High Lord and Lady, which was just a stones throw away from y/n, and he found himself completely lost in the scent of a brewing storm, his shadows unwinding from his body as it flooded his lungs and fighting through invisible storm clouds in order to brush against her for even a moment, to taste her skin and shudder at the power laced within it.

Crossing her leg over the other, Azriel watched y/n recline into the comfort of the seat, doing his best to not make his awe so obvious whilst she took a moment to gaze upon every person in the room, her eye lingering on a certain Autumn heir with a level of intrigue before she spoke with a feline grin, "So, you're all on the verge of death. Tell me more."

Author's Note

Trying a different writing style with this one - let me know what you think x

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surielstea · 5 months ago

Text

Guilty Pleasures

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Vanserra!Reader (fem)

Summary: Readers secret relationship with the Shadow Singer can’t be suppressed when Azriel finds himself in Readers room after a meeting with her brother, Eris.

3.4k words

The Forest House is crawling with night dwellers. That's what Eris had told me when he woke me up this morning, throwing a gown at me and telling me to get dressed before attending the meeting between Night and Autumn. Since my brother was the new high lord I could do little to argue with him, if he wanted me to participate I would be forced to do so. I was the farthest from the throne, and even less, a girl.

Though Eris seemed to look past the imbalance of power between us, even if it was blatantly obvious I had no choice but to do exactly as said.

I may not have not been the strongest fire wielder in my family, hel, Lucien practically started glowing whenever he conjured fire, but then again he's always been a little different from the rest of us. Without flame, I was dealt with the same cunning tongue as my father. It was a wicked trait to inherit, but also my best weapon. I could do more damage with my words than a sword because let's face it, internal wounds never really heal, and my father made sure he taught me that.

So I put on the deep green dress and tied the corset around my waist and bust tightly, keeping my retorts to myself about the style of the dress, wishing it wasn't so flashy. But this was a meeting with the Lord of Night he was flashy if anything, and so was the rest of his court. So I understand what Eris had been planning.

When I stepped into that meeting room I made sure I was making an entrance. Whatever discussions that had been ongoing before I walked in ceased. As his courtier, I was familiar with the members of Rhysand's court, specifically the two Illyrians flanking his left side. I flash the blue-siphoned male a sinister smile, reveling in the way his eyes drank me in, trekking down me from head to toe with an incomprehensible amount of lust, the kind that's guaranteed to have dropped panties before.

When his eyes return to mine I playfully look away with a smirk, making it clear that I'd caught him in the act. I take my place next to Eris at the other end of the table, his side comparably smaller in group size, void of friends and family like the High Lord of Night. But Eris did what he had to in order to survive, even if that meant pushing everyone else away— well, everyone but me. Because even with sheer determination, he wasn't able to get rid of me, who has been clinging so tightly to him since I was a child.

The meeting had already begun by the time I walked in so I didn't waste my time trying to catch up. I was only there to make an appearance, Eris had claimed it puts people at ease when they see a familiar face, invoking a more positive response. That was all I managed to pick up when he was explaining his schemes, I knew they'd stay true to our alliance. They needed us, we had one of the strongest armies, and even if they were guaranteed a win they didn't need to add bodies to the death toll.

The Shadow Singer's eyes tracked my every movement, he stared as I played with the ends of my hair, and practically started drooling when I flicked my eyes up to look at him every now and then. Gods he was so obvious, and they called him a spymaster?

I smirked down at my lap at the idea, picking at my nails to distract myself but it did little to help when I could practically feel his need for me from across the room.

The meeting went on for what felt like hours. I thought it'd be fairly straightforward when Eris explained it to me yesterday, I guess I underestimated the dramatics of the Night Court's strongest. Not to say it wasn't entertaining, but I found myself nearly laughing at some of the remarks made throughout the meeting.

Eventually, it was brought to an end. Rhysand had inevitably agreed to continue the alliance, just as Eris had suspected, and soon everyone was filing out of the meeting room.

I had beelined straight back towards my bedroom, aching to rip myself free from my revealing dress, in need to slip back beneath my sheets and go back to bed.

But as soon as I entered my room, I noticed there was someone's presence already occupying it. I was startled, staring at the Shadow Singer as he gazed at all the trinkets lined on my shelves. Most of them were souvenirs Lucien had collected for me during his travels across the continent. I was always jealous of him for that. While he was out exploring the world, I was still here, stuck in the same house I was born in.

"What are you doing?" I immediately question and Azriel whirls around, facing me with pure stoicism.

"Got lost," He shrugged.

"This is my room," I say with stern brows. He looked around the space, at the books on the shelves, the messy papers on my desk, and my unmade bed that was calling my name.

"Is it?" His eyes returned to mine and he took a bold step forward.

"Yes, if you need me to call a maid to escort you back to your room I'd be happy to oblige," I offered him a kind smile but he only continued with his strides, another pace, slowly closing the distance.

"That's kind of you," He takes one more step and suddenly I have to crane my neck up to look at him, my chest nearly pressed to his. "But I don't think that's necessary," He leaned against the door, closing it to peering eyes. At the newfound privacy, my smile widens and I practically tackle him to the ground, my arms sling around the nape of his neck as his lips crash onto mine.

I melted into the kiss and I swore for a moment he was holding up most of my weight. His hand comes to the back of my head, pulling slightly at my air and forcing me to back away.

"Gods, I missed you," He confesses through a breath. I beam, rising onto my toes and pecking him, pulling away as quickly as I came.

"I missed you too, Az," I murmur, pulling him so much closer. He stumbled forward and my back came into contact with the door, trapped between him with no exit. I couldn't find it in myself to complain.

His lips find mine again, like magnets pulling us together we slot into each other perfectly, filling every crevice and meeting every rendezvous of his touch. I reacted to his kiss in such a way that the first time our lips collided I thought I had lost my mind. It made me feel powerful and made me feel I was capable of so much more.

"It's been too long," I murmur as his hands trail down my sides, putting pressure on my waist, brushing along my hips, then curving along the side of my ass before reaching my thighs and hoisting me up.

"I know love, I know," He sighed onto my lips. I open my mouth wider, inviting his tongue as I wrap my legs around his torso while he holds me up.

His tongue dances with mine, like the last two warriors left on a battlefield, needy and restrained, torturous and passionate.

"I need you," I confess into his mouth and he grunts lowly at the words. "That meeting was cruel," I mumble while he begins to kiss down my neck.

"I know," He repeats, his voice desperate and raw. "The whole time I've been here I've only wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you on the floor," He admits and the apex of my thighs thrums with a chant of need.

"Then what are you waiting for?" I retort with a foxlike smirk. He pushes off the door, and rather than the floor he carries me over to my bed.

I grin against his lips in anticipation as he begins untying the back of my dress, the corset loosening and allowing me to breathe fully.

He pulls me free from it entirely, tearing my dress off and discarding it to the floor before he mounts over my mostly nude body. He lays me down, his lips coming to mind in a moment of need. I begin unbuckling his pants, tugging at them with needy movements. He helped, taking off his shirt for me while kicking off his pants.

His hands roam my body, over the curve of my breasts, past my waist, then finally to my hips where he found the waistband to my pink undies, toying with the lace.

"You wear these just for me?" He purrs into my mouth and I nod, capturing his lips with mine yet again. He pulls the lace down my thighs, allowing the cool air to hit my soaked cunt. I gasped as two of his fingers immediately delved through my folds, drenching his hand.

"Gods, you're soaked baby," He admires and I flash an embarrassed smile. He smirks at the reaction, pressing his dripping fingers to my clit with rough circles. My breath hitched before I let out a string of moans, pawing at the imprint in his boxers with an unquenchable need.

"Please," I beg.

"I have to stretch you out first," He tuts and I whine in protest. "I know, but it'll hurt otherwise be patient," He explains. Tears well in my eyes as I look up at him with a dramatic pout.

"I want it to hurt," I confess. "Make it hurt, I swear I'll be good." My pleads are met with a stern look from him. I palm him, my hand wrapping around the tent in his boxers, gripping him slightly and he grits his teeth at the feeling.

"I'm not stopping when you tell me it hurts," He threatens and I nod in agreement, my hunger becoming too strong to ignore as I pull down his boxers and his heavy cock slaps up against his abdomen.

My mouth waters at the sight, my pussy thrumming against his hand with anticipation.

He swipes his length through my folds and I revel in the feeling of his warm length running through my cunt, the ridges of his thick member adding friction to my sopping folds as I continue to lube him up.

"You sure?" He says, looking at me pointedly and I nod. "Be a good girl and use your words." He prompts and I swallow thickly.

"Yes, Az," I plead. "I want you," I add and before I know it he's aligning his tip and pushing the head of him inside of me.

I gasped, clawing at his tan back, drawing blood with my nails but he didn't seem to mind the marks I made as he pressed into me.

When Azriel fucked, he fucked good and hard. He didn't relent his pace and he only sped it up. He knew I was teasing him in my dress earlier, how tortuous it was to have me in the same room as him yet he couldn't have me, not how he wanted to have me. Not like this.

He made each of his movements rough and pleasurable. He snapped his hips into mine, my base meeting his as he began to roll his hips into me. "There Az, right there," I cry out as he finds a sensitive bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me that only he could reach with his impressively long cock that he's molded me to, so it's only him I can seek pleasure with.

"Yeah? Be a good girl and open wider for me," He says and I do just that, spreading my legs as far as I can, allowing him to his me deeper as his balls slap against my ass. "Atta girl, taking me so well," He hummed and I smiled hazily up at him. It didn't hurt, or maybe it did and the pain hadn't settled in over the adrenaline— but all I felt was pleasure, I was too wet for there to be any discomfort.

"You feel so perfect wrapped around my cock baby," He admires, looking down and watching the way he disappeared inside my entrance. "Fuck, you're so tight," He grunts, bringing his scared hand down and pressing it to my stomach. I mewled at the feeling of him rubbing harder against my walls, clamping down around his base and making it harder for him to drive into me.

"You feel that? Feel how deep I'm in your pretty pussy?" He smirks and I nod with a whimper leaving my lips. He continues his brutal pace, pushing me up onto the bed with the force that he was fucking me with.

He grabs the back of my thighs and pulls my legs up, putting me into a mating press.

I wailed at the new position, practically feeling him thrust into my womb. "So good," I murmur and he only smirks.

"Yeah? You like it when I'm using you like this?" He asks and I flutter my lashes up at him, tears dripping down the sides of my face.

"Yes, love it when you use me Az," I confess and he twitches at the words. "All yours," I sigh out.

"That's right," He leans down to press a kiss at the corner of my jaw. "My perfect little slut," He purrs at the shell of my ear and I gasp, my orgasm nearing rapidly. "You like when I call you a slut don't you? Dirty girl," Azriel rolls his hips over mine as he speaks, creating a loss of words to form on the tip of my tongue, being replaced by moans and screams instead.

I pulse against his cock, my puffy pussy twitching around his base as he continues his vile movements.

"I'm gonna— Az, m'close," I warn and he kisses me with a smile, toying with me, seeing how long I can hold myself back from sweet release.

"Not yet baby, want you to cum with me," He directs and a whimper falls from my lips in defiance, the pain beginning to set in as I drag out my climax, forcing it away per his demand. I squeeze around his tighter, attempting to spur him on to find his release quicker.

"Az— s'too much, it hurts," I cry out and he smirks against my skin, nipping at the side of my neck before lifting up to meet my teary gaze with his lustful one.

"Poor girl, you said that's what you wanted." He kissed up the side of my face, licking away my salty tears. "Keep to your promise and I'll let you cum soon, alright?" He offers and I rapidly nod. "Good."

He presses me into the mattress, my thighs still at my sides as he folds me in half and forces his the head of his cock into my cervix. I gripe at the feeling, writing beneath him but fighting off my impending orgasm nevertheless. Moans spilled from my swollen lips and he basked in them, in all the noises I made as his cock pushed deeper into my cunt.

He twitches and I thank the gods, the signal meaning he was close and my torture would end soon.

"My perfect little slut, so good for me," He croons, his words ghosting over my lips but not quite attaching them, loving the way I gasped out with moans into his mouth.

I clench tighter around him and he grunts, his jaw feathering as he grits his teeth.

"Go ahead, make a mess all over yourself." He allows and I immediately meet his request, my release dragging screams out of me. I don't even know when my hands got into his hair but I pull at it as my climax takes me full throttle and I fall beyond words to describe just how glorious the euphoric feeling is.

"That's it, keep milking my cock just like that," He groans in pure pleasure, his warm seed seeping into each and every one of my crevices as his thrusts slow and he attempts to pull out from my tight cunt that was still clenched around him, not wanting him to disappear quite yet.

But eventually, he removed himself from me and I was left panting on the bedspread, pulsing around nothing.

"Alright, let's get you cleaned up before I have to leave." He scoops me up into his arms and I whine, my brows bunching into a knot as he carries me into the connected bathing chambers.

"I don't want you to leave," I whine and he settles me down onto the cold bathroom counter.

"I don't want to leave either." He meets my gaze, looking down at me with soft eyes that contrast with his rough movements from only a moment ago. "But I have a mission passing through here next week," He said, grabbing a cloth from beneath the sink and wetting it with warm water. "Maybe we can meet at an inn and stay there for a few days," He plans and a small smile spreads across my face.

"I hope you know I'm not planning to leave that bed the entire time we're together," I hum and he smiles cheekily, his dimples making an appearance. I cup his jaw in my hands, admiring the panes of his face as he begins to wash the insides of my thighs.

"Sounds like a perfect plan to me," He flicked his eyes up to mine, away from my pink folds, still irritated from his harsh actions. I gasp slightly as he runs over my clit with the cloth, my legs jolting with overstimulation.

"Sorry, I was so rough," He uttered, continuing his gentle ministrations. I shake my head, not accepting his apology.

"Felt good," I tilt my head back as if reminiscing about five minutes ago. "I wish you could stay for another round." My fingertips dance down his chest. He looks at me sternly, catching my wrist before it can get too low and placing it on his broad shoulder.

"You know I won't be able to leave if I get back in that bed with you," He stated and I nodded, biting into my lower lip.

"Exactly," I say and he hoists me up into his arms, discarding the dirtied cloth into the hamper and placing me back down onto my bed.

"I'll see you next week, alright?" His shadows bring me a pair of clean panties and the softest nightgown from my wardrobe.

"Next week is too far away," I groan and flop back onto my bed while he hikes my undies up my thighs and snaps them against my hips with a satisfying sound.

"I think you'll survive," He lifts me upright. "Arms up," He casually muttered and I did as he said, lifting my arms so he could slip the comfortable nightgown over my head.

"I don't think I will," I sigh once the gown is past my head and he offers me a soft, reassuring smile.

"Maybe I'll sneak by sooner," He dips down and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. "If you're lucky," He warns as I wrap my arms around the nape of his neck and pull him onto my lips, kissing him with the same amount of heat as earlier, but also with an addition of love, my last ploy of getting him to stay. But he knew what I was doing, and he pulled away before he could fall for it.

"I'm sorry baby," He whispers and I frown. "I'll move things around and I'll come earlier than next week," He says but my frown remains. "And we'll spend days in bed, how's that sound?" He offers and a small smile forms over my pout. "Yeah? Good?" He asks and I nod with a cheeky grin. "Okay, I'll see you soon my love," He presses one last kiss to my lips, relishing the taste of me against him one more time.

"Bye Az," I murmur against his lips. He pecks me once again before shadows swarm around him and he is consumed by darkness, slipping through my grasp and leaving me alone.

But he'll be back sooner than next week, and his promises gave me more than just one thing to look forward to.

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lidiasloca · 1 month ago

Note

can i please request one with cassian x reader where reader is pregnant but doesn’t know and is being extra clingy to cassian. literally he’s going up to drink some water and she’s going with him or he’s training and she’s sitting next to him waiting for him to finish. And at meetings she’s sitting in his lap and holds him close. everyone wonders why that is bc reader doesn’t usually like pda. the bond knows before them that she’s pregnant and she subconsciously wants to stay close to her mate to feel protected. they eventually find out after feyre recognizes the signs she also had and everyone are so happy for them, cassians extra possessiveness and protective instincts go crazyyyy😍🧎‍♀️

cassian's mate is clingy (and pregnant)

cassian x reader

fluff

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

"But what if she is?" you heard your mate ask desperately. His voice was so pained it stopped you in your tracks—making you hide before the door of the room he was in with his brothers.

"Cheating on you?!" Rhys asked in disbelief. You swallowed a gasp. Were they talking about you? Impossible—Cassian wouldn’t even spend a second wondering that nonsense. Why would he?

You peeked out to see Cassian nod. Then you hid again. "Cass, Y/N is madly in love with you—she’s your mate. Don’t feed into that idea, it’s stupid," Azriel told him, his arm on your mate’s shoulder.

"Yeah, brother—it’s impossible. I mean, look at her. Lately, she won’t even take her hands off you for a second. She loves you so much."

"But that’s the problem. Lately, she’s all over me. She’s never been that way in public. And now it seems like she has to show everyone how much she loves me. I don’t know… it’s like she has to affirm a truth that shouldn’t need affirming."

Your eyes started to swell with tears. It was true—you had grown more clingy lately. It all started when he left for meetings. You hated it, so you began going with him, sitting next to him. Then on him.

Even when he went to training, you accompanied him. He loved when you watched him fight, admiring him from afar, proud to call him your mate.

Surely, the Inner Circle had noticed your neediness. At every dinner, you sat next to him, always holding his hand or touching his arm.

You thought Cassian was loving it—but maybe, all this time, he had seen it as a distraction. You couldn’t even stomach the idea that he might think you would betray him like that. You loved him more than anything in this world.

"Cassian. She’s your mate. So what if she’s more clingy? Good for you. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill."

But you saw Cassian wasn’t satisfied. Seeing him like this—so sad and despairing because of you—it broke your heart.

It was all your fault. These last months, you couldn’t stop being all over him. You needed him so much. Gods, you had been so stupid and annoying. But why? You’d never been like this.

One thing was clear—you had to get away before they heard your sobs.

You quickly shut yourself in the farthest room you could find, letting yourself collapse against the closed door as you cried and cried.

"Y/N?" It was Feyre’s sweet voice that made you open your teary eyes.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know someone was here. I’ll just go." You moved to get up, but she stopped you, sitting down in front of you.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked gently. "No, you’re going to tell me why you’re crying, sweetie." She had really mastered that mom voice with Nyx.

But you couldn’t form words, so you just shook your head.

"Well, I’ll stay here with you nonetheless," she said, tracing a soft hand across your wet cheek. Her gentleness made you sob even more.

"Thank you," you mumbled, looking up to see her tender smile.

"You know," she began, her voice soothing like she was telling you a bedtime story. "I see myself in your tears. Bittersweet tears, I used to call them." You gave her a confused look, so she continued, "Maybe I’m wrong, Y/N, but I could recognize this kind of sweet despair on any female’s face."

"Feyre, I don’t understand a thing."

She giggled lightly. "I’ve been watching you these last couple of weeks. The changes in you—the frustration because you don’t understand. Everything’s changing—you, Cassian, your body, your emotions. It’s all too much—especially when you can’t explain why it’s happening."

"You mean like when you became Fae?"

"No," she chuckled. "No, no. I mean when I became pregnant."

Your eyes opened wide, and your mouth dropped slightly.

"Oh yes. I had a similar look when I realized," she said, smiling, but her smile faltered when she sensed your pounding heart. "Sweetie," she started, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, "are you alright?"

You nodded slowly.

"I’m pregnant?"

"Well, I’d guess you are. But I can’t be sure."

But you were sure. It all made sense now. This was the missing piece. Feyre’s worried face relaxed when she saw the smile growing on your face.

"I’m pregnant," you repeated, now filled with joy and gratitude. Then, "Cassian. I have to tell him!" you blurted, hurrying to get up and run to him. But before leaving, you glanced back at Feyre, giving her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

She returned your smile, almost as happy for you as you were about the baby.

You ran back to where you had last seen Cassian. He was still with his brothers, a sad look in his eyes.

But you were about to change that.

"Cassian." He looked up at you instantly. Maybe you should have waited until it was a hundred percent sure. Maybe you should have gone to Madja first. But... "I’m pregnant."

He stood frozen in place, and from the corner of your eye, you could see Azriel and Rhys, just as shocked, their mouths open and brows raised.

"You’re what—?"

"I’m pregnant, Cassian," you repeated, walking toward him to take his hands and look deeply into his eyes—make him understand everything.

"You’re pregnant."

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

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readychilledwine · 10 months ago

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Hi, I have a fic idea. So Beron has somehow found out that Eris is scheming against him but Beron just doesn't know what Eris' plan is. So the reader is basically told by Beron to get close to Eris to find out his plan. But as time passes by, Reader falls for Eris and can't bring herself to tell Eris' plan to Beron in the court room but Eris over hears the their conversation and confronts the reader. He also asks her why didnt she snitch on him so the reader tells him that she loves him too much to do that. Then reader is attacked by Beron's soldiers or you can end it however you like. If you don't wanna write it, then it's okay but just let me know what you think of it🥺.

I think this is amazing and a twist on what we normally see for this storyline idea.

Tainted Love

Warnings - torture. Beron, cliffhanger. Angst and anger. Betrayal.

"Do you want to tell me why I caught you with my father tonight or do you want me to find out on my own?"

You took a deep breath, looking to the ceiling for strength. It had already been a hard day dealing with Beron. The last thing you wanted to be doing was dealing with an angry Eris now, too.

"Can we talk about it in the morning, please? I just want to enjoy dinner."

Eris looked at you as if you had grown a second head. "Tell now, or I will let Azriel tell me why he sent me there."

You had to hold back your eye roll at the mention of the shadowsinger. Since Eris pulled you into his bargain with Rhysand, a shadow has trailed you. Following you and relaying your every move to the Inner Circle and Eris.

It was fair at first. You knew that deep down inside. You were one of Beron's more talented spies, used for situations where the males just weren't enough.

You were soft, gentle, beautiful. It was easy for people to open up to you, and that was why Beron had picked you for this over his other options.

He knew Eris was plotting and playing against him. He's known for years. He just needed to figure out how.

That was where you came in. Eris has an eye for you since the two of you were children. He had loved you since you were teens. Now, as adults, Eris was absolutely in love with you. He loved you from the soles of your feet to the soft curl of your hair and every flaw in-between.

You, having never known love or safety, had walls he'd been trying to take down the second you began approaching him on Beron's command. You have naively expected his efforts to fail, but one night as you two danced in his kitchen, you realized they hadn't.

You were helplessly in love with Eris.

And your mission had changed.

You had started giving Beron information while also exposing fae in the court Eris needed taken out.

The master of coin? You caught him steal from under Beron and Eris's noses, in a ploy of his own to wipe out the family as a whole. You watched him burned by your High Lord the second that information was tortured from him.

His second general, the one Eris hated, you turned in for hiding tithes and embezzling from his territory. He was given a traitors death, sent to the forest to become one with the trees, ripped down flesh and all by their roots.

Beron had caught on, though. Each interrogation proved each fae you turned in was not working with Eris, nor aware of his plan.

You could still feel his hand below your dress, resting in your ribcage just above your heart. He was on to you, and if you weren't smarter, you too might meet that dungeon and those trees.

Eris cleared his throat and brought you back to him. "Don't make me ask again, little fox. Please just tell me the truth."

You set everything down and stepped away from the table, ensuring there was space between you two. "Beron knows you're working against him," Eris's face dropped before schooling. "He's known for awhile."

"For how long?"

You looked up, tears starting to fall as you realized this would be the end.

The second you told him, there were no more nights in his arms. No more shared kisses. No more hushed I love yous.

But telling him put him another step ahead of Beron. You had already launched him impossibly ahead. Beron would only figure out his plan when it was too late, when Eris had already made that final move and Death reached a cool hand out to take Beron.

"Since after the war with Hybern. He found a letter from the shadowsinger in your office. He had another of his spies decode it."

Eris nodded, processing everything slowly before standing himself. "And how, y/n, do you know all of this?"

"He told me when he asked me to get close to you and figure out your plan."

The confession was a hanging. Eris stood there nodding before taking his whiskey in his hand and downing it. "So all of this wasn't real. All the nights whispering about our dreams? All the plans we made? This all meant nothing to you?"

"You mean everything to me," your voice broke. "At first, yes, I was doing my job. But I fell in love with you when I saw who you were. When I realized who you wanted to be to this Court. To our home. I never told him anything. I've been distracting him with information regarding males you wanted taken out anyways."

Eris shook his head, his own tears beginning to fall. "I don't believe you. I loved you. I fucking loved you and you did this to me? To us? Even if you were telling me the truth, how am I ever supposed to trust you now? How can I trust you to rule at my side?"

No answer came from you. You stared towards your boots in shame. "Azriel can tell you everything that was discussed. I know you all have a shadow trailing m-"

"Because Rhysand didn't fucking trust you!" Eris broke down into anger. All formality has left him as he pulled at his short hair and paced the dining room of your small home. "Rhysand did not trust you and I should have never trusted you either."

You watched as he grabbed his jacket, "I am done. Do not follow me. Do not come find me. When Beron is gone, you will leave this court or I will have you killed. Your choice."

You couldn't help but to look up, tears falling and stinging your face. "Eris, please, I love you."

He paused momentarily, resting his head on the doorway. "I wish I could believe that, y/n. I love you more than anything, I always have, and I probably always will. But you lied. You played me."

"I did my job so he wouldn't kill me," you turned away from him, having thought he of all fae would have understood.

"Maybe it would have been better off if he had." Eris left, slamming the door behind him.

The news of your breakup hit the courts quickly, too quickly for you to pack and leave.

Which is why you found yourself tied to a whipping post in Beron's private dungeon. He had sent some of his men for you, allowing them to best you before dragging your unconscious body here."Turns out your cunt isn't as powerful as you think it is, is it dear y/n?"

You didn't respond, knowing that would only make day 3 of this torture worse. "You had one job, and you failed me." You felt Beron's hand trail your back before grabbing the collar of your dress and ripping it down to bodice. "Such a shame, too. I find you absolutely exquisite. Maybe my son just has higher standards or different tastes than I do."

You didn't have time to prepare as the first lashing came, ripping your skin open and causing your mouth to fall open in shock. "How many do you think you deserve, y/n? Not only did you fail me. You also allowed him to bed you, losing all power and worth you may have thought you had to me, and what little information you did give me, while useful, never gave us an answer on my son's impeding betrayal." Another lashing had you crying out, body leaning against the pull as the cuts overlapped and merged together.

Beron ran his hand up your back again, knee digging into your spine as he pushed you into the whipping pole and put your hair up into a bun. "Do not fret, little doll. I won't leave marks where anyone besides me will be able to enjoy them if you survive."

You lost count of his strikes after 20. You couldn't even respond anymore to them. You felt Beron's chest against your back as he untied you, allowing you to fall to the ground, body too broke to hold itself up.

He left you there bleeding on the dirt, unable to move to clean the deep wounds or even take a proper breath.

The last thing you remembered seeing was a flash of wings and red hair, rushing to you as the world faded to black.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager

#acotar #acotar x reader #send anons #send asks #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n

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theostrophywife · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! I love your work! I was wondering if you could do a Azriel x reader fic where reader doesn’t know a lot about males and so az (maybe he already has a thing for reader) offers to give her lessons? The more NSFW the better 😉

innocence.

author's note: sorry for being m.i.a. please accept this as my apology gift. largely inspired by this song. you can't tell me that az doesn't have the biggest corrpution kink 😏

it started out innocently enough.

one winter evening after a particularly rowdy wine night, you and azriel laid in a heap at the house of wind, giggling at nothing as the warmth of the alcohol lowered your inhibitions and loosened your lips.

"never?" azriel asked incredulously, his brows creasing in the most adorable way. "you've truly never kissed anyone?"

you pouted, crossing your arms. thanks to cassian and his big mouth, the shadowsinger now knew the true extent of your naivete. growing up in the high priestess's temple in the dawn court, you had devoted much of your life to duty and training, which left little to no room for encounters with the opposite sex.

it never bothered you before. until you moved to the night court and met the shadowsinger. azriel was beyond gorgeous and smart and funny and probably well-versed in the art of seduction, which is more than you could say for your inexperienced self.

"don't tease, az." you groaned, covering your face behind your hands. as if that would hide the flush spreading through your cheeks. "i'm already mortified enough as it is."

"hey," azriel said softly as he gently grabbed your wrists. "it's nothing to be embarrassed about, love."

"you're just saying that to be nice."

the shadowsinger shook his head. "i torture people for a living," he deadpanned. "i am not nice."

you chuckled, which brought a smile to azriel's handsome face. "besides, practice makes perfect. i've seen you go from not knowing how to hold a sword to perfecting the eight point attack in a matter of weeks. kissing should be a piece of cake compared to that."

"kissing and fighting aren't the same thing."

azriel smirked. "it is, if you're doing it right. all it takes is a good teacher." the tips of your ears reddened. “and we all know how fast of a learner you are.”

you snorted. "somehow i doubt that nesta would be into the idea of letting me borrow her mate for lessons." a little frown formed on your face. "or maybe she would. you never know with those two."

the idea formed in azriel's mind before he could think better of it. the shadowsinger hated that he thought of it in the first place, but fuck. you were both a little tipsy and a tiny bit reckless and he'd been crushing on you for far too long and maybe tonight was the night he finally did something about it.

"i could teach you."

you stilled. “what?”

azriel shrugged and put on his most nonchalant expression even though his inner monologue was currently pure turmoil. “i could teach you how to kiss.” he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze to yours. “it might help to practice with someone you’re comfortable with.”

you cocked your head, weighing his words. “you’re…actually serious about this.”

“why wouldn’t i be?”

“well, wouldn’t it make things weird? you’re my best friend. best friends don’t just kiss.”

you had him there. azriel certainly had never offered this unique service to any of his friends before. “i don’t think it’s weird. i think it makes perfect sense. in fact, it’s weird that we’re not kissing right now. best friends kiss all the time,” the shadowsinger deadpanned.

you snorted. “so you and cassian are just having heated little makeout sessions behind me and nesta’s back?”

azriel winked. “i won’t tell if you don’t.”

that earned an earnest little giggle out of you. then you were quiet again, lost in the pros and cons.

pro: you really wanted to kiss azriel.

con: you really wanted to kiss azriel.

what if you were horrible at it? what if you had bad breath? what if you accidentally bit him? what if azriel figured out that you had a pathetic little crush on him and he doesn’t return the feelings and your friendship implodes then you’d have to move back to the dawn court and adopt a bunch of cats just like thesan always teased you about when you were children—

“you’re spiraling.”

you crossed your arms. “am not.”

azriel rolled his eyes fondly. “i can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.” his expression softened as he turned over on the couch, his chin perched in one hand. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to. i just…” the bob of an adam’s apple. “i just wanted your first kiss to be with someone who genuinely cares about you.”

that turned your insides into mush. “oh.”

the shadowsinger’s cheeks reddened. “never mind, it sounds silly now that i’ve said it out loud.”

“it’s not,” you said, sitting cross legged on the sofa. “it’s not stupid, az. it’s really sweet, actually.”

your heart hammered inside of your chest as you faced azriel. his hazel eyes glowed golden under the faelights and a warm flush colored his cheeks a rosy tone. from this close, you could make out the constellations of freckles that kissed his nose and cheeks, its traitorous little trail stopping just above his cupid’s bow. you couldn’t help it. your gaze went straight to his lips. they looked soft, sensual, and perfectly kissable. you wondered if he’d taste like sweet wine.

“y/n?” azriel murmured softly.

“hmm?”

“you’re staring.”

your cheeks reddened and a slight smirk tugged at the corner of azriel’s mouth. “you’re the one who brought up kissing,” you countered, raising a brow. “now i can’t stop staring at your stupid lips.”

the shadowsinger’s smirk grew wider. “my stupid lips,” he repeated. “that you want to kiss.”

“no,” you blurted. azriel raised a knowing brow. “yes. maybe.” you shifted awkwardly. “what if i’m terrible at it? what if i accidentally miss? what if i don’t know where to put my hands? oh my gods, what if i accidentally bite you?”

to his credit, there wasn’t an ounce of judgement on azriel’s face. he’d witnessed your outbursts enough times that he wasn’t even fazed by it. the shadowsinger grabbed your hand and traced soothing circles over your knuckles. “one, no one’s first kiss is great. at best, it’s weird and awkward because you’re just trying to figure it out. that’s kind of the point. two, you won’t miss. just follow my lead. three, the neck or waist are generally safe spots to place your hands.” azriel demonstrated by wrapping your arms around his neck. “lastly, i don’t mind if you bite me. in fact, i might enjoy it.” he gave you a cheeky wink that helped dissipate the rest of your anxious worries.

you chuckled softly. leave it to azriel to make you laugh mid freak out. the shadowsinger smiled and cauldron fucking boil you, the sight of it pretty much sealed your fate.

“so,” you murmured, toying with the loose curls at the nape of azriel’s neck. “what now?”

“that’s entirely up to you, love.”

you blinked. once, twice. the smell of cedar and starkissed night. freckles and rosy cheeks. warm, golden eyes that melted your insides like honey. scarred hands that caressed the side of your face with heartbreaking gentleness.

“kiss me, azriel.”

the shadowsinger did not need to be told twice. he tilted your chin, brushing his nose against yours for a brief moment. azriel took a deep breath like he was savoring the moment, like his entire life had been leading up to this. then he kissed you.

his lips were as soft as freshly plucked rose petals and as sweet as the wine that still coated your tongue. they pressed against yours, gentle and exploring as azriel cupped your cheek. you leaned into him and your fingers found purchase in his silky, dark locks as azriel deepened the kiss. his arm snaked across your back as he pulled you into his lap, his mouth never once leaving yours. the sweet innocent pecks did not stay innocent for long.

the shadowsinger groaned as you nestled into him. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t pressed against him, but still you wanted more. your hands moves of their own accord and slipped underneath azriel’s cream sweater. his skin felt like a warm summer day despite the fact that it was currently the dead of winter.

“fuck,” azriel growled into your neck.

you pulled away, startled. it didn’t even occur to you that your fingers were as cold as icicles. “shit. sorry, az i didn’t think—“

you slipped your hands out of his sweater, but azriel caught you by the wrist. “no,” he grunted, his voice dark and low and dangerous. “no, don’t stop.”

it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. even hotter still with the way azriel tugged you to him as though he’d rather die than have you stop touching him. you greedily obliged, taking the lead this time. azriel cursed under his breath as you kissed him again, tangling his curls between your fingers. there was something intoxicating about him—his taste, his touch, his kiss. you couldn’t get enough.

when you finally came up for breath, the shadowsinger looked at you as though he’d been starving for centuries and you’d only really begun to scratch the surface of his hunger. azriel wanted to devour you.

but tonight, he’d settle for a kiss. except, it was anything but.

azriel was fucked.

he blinked, drinking in your lust added gaze and flushed cheeks. you brought your bottom lip between your teeth and it was all he could do to reel himself in. “are…are all first kisses like that?” your voice was hoarse from disuse and utterly sexy.

“no,” azriel answered honestly. “i’ve never had a kiss like that.”

your grin brought out a set of dimples that azriel had long ago deemed as his greatest weaknesses. “and i’ve never had a first kiss, period.”

and you never will again, azriel thought. not if he could help it.

“does that feel good, love?” azriel asked as he pressed a kiss against your collar bone.

you whimpered as his lips trailed between the valley of your breasts. since that first kiss, you and azriel hadn’t been able to keep your hands off of each other. over the last few weeks, the apprehension you felt about your inexperience slowly started to feel like a blessing in disguise. azriel said you were a fast learner, but only because he was such a great teacher.

“gods,” you breathed, clutching the sheets as azriel continued his descent.

“you can just call me az, you know.”

you rolled your eyes at the cheeky male below you. from this angle, he certainly looked like a god. his hair was a tousled mess, dark curls tangled from where you ran your fingers through it. sweat dripped down his shirtless torso, his golden brown skin glowing in the afternoon light. you were vaguely aware that the sun as setting over the horizon, which meant that the rest of your friends would be arriving for dinner, but neither one of you seemed to care.

during the past few weeks, you and azriel continued your lessons. first base was easy enough to master. the two of you put in plenty of hours sneaking off to make out in azriel’s room, the wine cellar, the training pits, and even in feyre’s art studio at the river house once when things really got desperate. it was a wonder that your friends hadn’t caught you yet. there had been several close calls with cassian. mostly because the male was a nosy busybody.

second base took a little more work. you were terrified at first. you and azriel had been making out in your bed for what seemed like hours before you finally mustered up the courage to slip your hand into his trousers. the shadowsinger made a sound that was half growl and half purr and for a split second you were afraid that you’d hurt him. when you voiced your fears, azriel was quick to reassure you.

“i’m not in pain, love.” azriel said, his voice strained and breathy. “trust me, i feel the complete opposite.”

“tell me how to make you feel good, az.”

the string of curse words that fell from his lips were so filthy that it made you blush. the shadowsinger guided your hand over his cock and you nearly gasped at the impressive length. azriel was hot and hard beneath your touch, his wings flexing as you grasped him in your hand.

“loosen your grip, love.” azriel adjusted your hand, motioning for your fingers to relax and mold against him. you mimicked his movement, eliciting a low rumble out of the shadowsinger. the competitive part of you awakened, eager to make azriel groan like that again. you gazed up at azriel through your lashes with determination. “gods, don’t look at me like that y/n or this lesson will be over before it’s even started.”

heat erupted in your core, but you shook the desire away. this was about azriel. you wanted to make him come undone for once instead of the other way around. “show me, az.” you said. “i want to see how you touch yourself.”

“cauldron boil me,” azriel muttered under his breath. “you’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”

you watched as he gripped himself and pumped at a steady pace. he slowed down the movements for you and you studied each flick of his wrist as though you’d be tested on it later. as sinful as it was, there was something heavenly about watching azriel stroke himself. your hands itched to touch him. once you felt confident enough, azriel let you take over.

azriel’s eyes rolled back as you pumped his shaft, carefully watching the rise and fall of his chest. his heavy breathing filled the room and it quickly became your favorite sound in the world.

you felt a strange rush of power witnessing azriel in such a vulnerable state. his lids were heavy with lust, golden eyes barely visible from the ring of onyx swallowing up his irises. you thought he looked pretty like this, his head tilted back against your headboard while his lips parted to release a shallow breath every now and then.

"you have no idea how good that feels, love." azriel grunted. you tightened your grip, spreading the bead of precum over his tip. your little improvisation was met with a moan that seeped into your bones.

"how good, az?" you teased.

those long lashes of his kissed the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered close. "fucking amazing," azriel declared. "keep going, love. don't stop, please. gods—"

"you can just call me y/n, you know."

azriel growled in response before pulling you in for a heated kiss. his hips thrust up to match your pace as his tongue parted your lips. he swallowed your moans, devouring you like his life depended on it.

“just like that, love.” azriel said in appreciation. “you’re doing such a good job, y/n.”

the praise affected you more than you thought it would. you were always seeking positive feedback when it came to your work, especially in training, but this was something else. it only encouraged you to keep going at a faster pace until azriel was coming undone in your hands. the sight of him losing control would forever be etched in your mind.

the more azriel gave, the more you craved. not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. the whole thing may have started as a practical way to tackle sex, but as time went on, it started to evolve into something else entirely.

until the lessons weren’t really just lessons anymore.

if you had to pinpoint the moment when everything changed, it would have been a few days after winter solstice. azriel had been away for a mission and was unable to make it home for the festivities. throughout the night, you kept finding yourself fidgeting and glancing at the empty seat beside you. at one point during dinner, cassian squeezed your hand and smiled sadly.

“i’m sure he misses you too, y/n.”

the gravity of those words hit you full force when you found azriel standing in the doorway of your flat. he was still dressed in his combat leathers and dark circles formed underneath his eyes as though he’d flown nonstop from wherever he was to get back home. before you could stop yourself, you rushed at him and nearly knocked him into the street from the force of your hug.

“i know, love.” azriel murmured softly into your hair. “i missed you, too.”

one bath and two cups of hot chocolate later, you found yourself curled up on the sofa as snow fell softly against the windowpane. you set your drink down on the table and turned to face azriel.

“so, i was thinking…”

the corner of azriel’s mouth quirked. “that’s never good.”

you tossed a pillow at him and rolled your eyes. “i was thinking that maybe it’s my turn to teach you a lesson, for once.”

the shadowsinger looked intrigued by that. “oh yeah? and what do you want to teach me, love?”

“i’m going to teach you how to sleep, az.” you pointedly stared at his bruised eyes, which only made him chuckle in amusement. “because judging from those bags underneath your eyes, you’re no expert in the matter.”

“i don’t get a say in this, do i?” shadows peered over his shoulders as though they too yearned for rest.

“nope,” you said cheerfully, dragging him off the couch and into your bedroom.

azriel let you bully him into getting underneath the covers. he tucked his wings to the side as he faced you. “what’s so great about this thing you call sleep, then? seems pretty boring to me.”

“well if you’d let me demonstrate,” you said impatiently before tugging him towards you. azriel chuckled and scooted closer. “i’ll have you know i’m a world class cuddler.”

“yeah? prove it then, love.” azriel teased.

the shadowsinger watched in amusement as you bossed him around. first you made him lie on his stomach and then pulled him to your chest. as much as he enjoyed teasing the absolute hell out of you, he couldn’t help but murmur in satisfaction as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. even his shadows seemed to enjoy bathing in your warmth and breathing in your jasmine shampoo.

“mmm,” az mumbled sleepily. for the first time in gods knew how long, he felt warm and safe and content. “you’re bossy as hell, but comfy too.”

“i know, you stubborn giant bat baby.”

the shadowsinger snorted. “giant bat baby?”

you rolled your eyes fondly. “shut up and cuddle, az.”

azriel burrowed himself further until his body heat warmed every inch of your skin. “that’s the good stuff,” he declared, brushing a soft kiss against your collarbone.

“told you i was good,” you said with a smile. azriel couldn’t even argue. with your hands massaging his scalp and your legs intertwined with his, the shadowsinger would’ve agree to anything you said.

“the best,” he hummed against your skin.

this was dangerous territory. with your other lessons, it was easy to shove aside your feelings because pleasure made it hard to think about anything else. but with azriel laying on your chest and clinging onto you like this meant something more…you could no longer avoid that pesky voice of doubt.

you were in love with azriel.

you had been for a long time.

shit.

“y/n?” azriel asked, cutting through the turmoil of your thoughts. his wings draped over the sides of your bed, relaxed and at ease.

“yeah?”

his golden eyes found yours in the dark. for a second, he stared at you like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. the shadowsinger opened his mouth like he was going to say something important, but he gave a tiny shake of his head and smiled.

“good night, love.”

in that moment, you knew azriel had your heart in the palm of his hand. “good night, az.”

azriel knew it was only a matter of time before these lessons came back to bite him on the ass.

he had been so eager that first night. mostly because he'd had a crush on you for so long and it was finally time to do something about it. the shadowsinger knew that he probably should've just told you how he felt, but he didn't want to shatter this delicate thing between you.

after all, these were just lessons. for all he knew, he was just your practice partner. it wasn't really all that different from sparring. except your weapons where your lips and your hands and your fucking smile that made his heart skip a beat every time you so much as grinned at him from across the room.

gods, he was so fucked.

the reality of it didn't fully hit him until that disastrous spring night.

the two of you had perfected third base eons ago. azriel knew how to make you cum with his mouth using a combination of expert tongue flicks and help from his shadows. nothing brought him joy like your shaking legs greedily wrapping around him as he ate your pussy like a man starved.

azriel thought he found the key to happiness until you returned the favor and went down on him.

finding restraint was hard. reeling his desire in while you knelt before him with your lips wrapped around his cock was nearly impossible.

"like this?" you asked, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock. azriel thought he was going to come right then and there when you looked up at him through your lashes, determination burning in your gaze.

you had always been intense. azriel knew that much from months of training together, but he didn't expect you to approach sex with the same competitiveness. you put your all into everything you did, which is what made azriel fall for you in the first place. he just didn't think you'd take the same approach when it came to sucking his dick. not that he was complaining.

in fact, all he could really do was moan.

the shadowsinger attempted to pull it together long enough to utter a coherent sentence. he had to at least attempt to say something helpful. you were putting your trust in him. he liked knowing that he'd been your first everything. now he just had to muster up the courage to tell you that he also intended to be the last.

he tried. he really did.

that night in his room. laying in bed with your legs tangled together. the soft spring breeze billowing through your curtains. azriel watched as you propped yourself up on your elbows and turned towards him.

"so, what now?" you asked.

azriel's brows furrowed with confusion. "what do you mean, love?"

you tilted your head, biting down on your bottom lip as you mulled over what to say next. it was one of your many little quirks that azriel adored. "i mean, what happens now? we've pretty much covered all the bases. except for one."

sex. you hadn't had sex yet. azriel knew this would come up sooner or later, but he had hoped it would be the latter. while it was easy to pretend that the lessons were just lessons to him, azriel couldn't do that with sex. it had always been hard for him to separate his feelings from the physical act and as much as he wanted to make sure that your first experience would be with someone who loved you, it wouldn't be fair to have sex without telling you the truth.

"i don't think that would be a good idea." as soon as the words left his mouth, azriel knew it was the wrong thing to say. he could tell that much from the look on your face. "i just mean, we shouldn't rush into anything."

"rush?" you asked incredulously. "azriel, we've spent the last three months doing anything and everything under the sun except sex."

"and it's been great," azriel said, trying to reel the conversation back in. "the lessons. trusting each other. but i just think you should take a step back and consider if you're truly ready."

that intense gaze he loved so much suddenly felt like the sweltering sun that azriel couldn't wait to shy away from. "you were my first kiss, az. my first everything. i think i've made it pretty clear on where i stand." you paused for a second, scanning his face. "oh my gods. i didn't even think to ask if you wanted this."

you were up before the absurdity of that statement could sink into azriel. if he wanted this? he'd never wanted anything more in his entire life.

"they were just lessons," you murmured to yourself while gathering your clothes. “how could i be so stupid?”

"y/n, please." azriel pleaded, not entirely believing what he was hearing. he nearly tripped over his own bedsheets as he followed you across the room.

“no, az. i’m sorry, i thought—“ your eyes brimmed with tears. the sight broke his fucking heart. “it’s not your fault. i just assumed—“

“that i’m in love with you?” azriel asked, gently gripping your wrists. you froze, wide eyes pinning azriel in place. “because i am, you know. i’ve been in love with you since the moment we met. this past few months, it’s killed me to pretend that whatever this is between us is just lessons.”

your gaze softened. “why didn’t you ever say anything?”

azriel chuckled bitterly. “because i’m a coward. i was scared that you might not feel the same way, so i settled for whatever scraps you were willing to give me.”

tears filled your eyes again and azriel was scared he’d fucked it up again, but you wiped your cheeks and cupped his face. “you deserve more than that, azriel.”

“i know, love.” he bowed his head. “and you deserve more than just lessons. that’s why i don’t want to have sex. not unless you know what this means to me. if we do this, there will be no one else. not today, not ever. i may be your first, but i also intend to be your last. if you’ll let me.”

a stray tear fell down your cheek, but it was a happy one this time. “if you haven’t noticed, i’m totally crazy about you, az. i think i’ve been in love with you longer than i wanted to admit.”

“can’t blame you,” the shadowsinger said. “i’m totally lovable.”

you smacked him in the chest, but azriel only laughed before he kissed you. really kissed you. it felt like you were floating on air.

gods, you loved him. you really did.

you smiled into the kiss. “i love you, az.”

the shadowsinger kissed the tip of your nose. “i love you too, y/n.”

“so…no more lessons, right?”

azriel shook his head and scooped you into his arms. “no more lessons. i want the real thing this time.”

#friends and family we are gathered here today to fucking YEARN #i missed az and i m back with a bang #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel smut #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #acotar

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scorpioriesling · 7 months ago

Text

Ideal Mate + Ideal Date HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand / Cassian / Azriel / Lucien / Eris / Tamlin

Warnings: fluff, some light allusions to smut and brief suggestive scenes, light swearing

Summary: Headcannons/drabbles for (my idea!) what the "ideal" mate for each character is, with an ideal date for the two of them as well.

SR’s Note: Just another little idea I had, pls don't hate on me <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

You would have to catch his eye because you're "different" in some way from other females

Whether it is because you are human, you are creative, you are undeniably brave and don't care who sees it... he is enraptured by you

All of these things intimidate him a little bit, which is why he has to learn about you from afar first before he can finally meet you

He is so nervous when he finally introduces himself, but unashamedly peers inside your head to see if you're even the least bit intrigued in him as he is by you

He's glad he did, and had nothing to worry about; you've fallen at first sight

He makes a point to learn things you like; he has tried to teach himself how to paint, but gets frustrated that it is one of the only things he can't master

He already asked you for an evening by the sidra to paint and have a picnic; too early, though as now he is realizing he is no good at the skill you excel in

"I just want you to know, painting isn't something I'm very talented in doing..."

You get butterflies realizing the most powerful and dangerous High Lord could be so nervous on a first date with a human female

"Allow me to help you, then."

He melts when your fingers hold his on the brush, only using one canvas as you paint a picture together instead of two separate ones

He can barely focus, your jasmine scent so close as you sit side by side on the soft grass by the river in the moonlight. He's not even focusing on the painting, but on your side profile instead, so intrigued in your work, the way your brows furrow in concentration

The moonlight illuminates the soft freckles on your nose; he wants to lean in and kiss each one of them

"No wonder you do not paint very well; you don't seem to have a strong sense of focus," you smirk

Cassian

He didn't want to like you when he met you, but somehow... he couldn't help himself

Your icy stare, the way you carried yourself, your strong sense of independence... you made it clear you didn't want any man

But he wanted you

At first he didn't know how to act around you, usually the fae he took interest in were kind and welcoming... but you had a bite that would send every male in Prythian screaming. He wasn't sure how to make you like him

He tried kindness; he earned a scowl. He tried buying you things; another sour look. He even tried inviting you to things, so you'd feel less isolated; all that got him was rejection, every time. Finally, he'd had enough

"What is it with you? Why won't you let anyone in? I get it, your family sucks, but-"

"Oh, please. You know nothing about me or my family." You'd spat

"Yeah! You're right, I don't," he heaves. "I don't... you don't tell me. You don't let a single person in. You don't talk to me, or tell me anything, or," he huffs a laugh. "Gods, I mean. You wouldn't step back and realize that someone cares so much for you, or see that I've just been trying to get you to love me back all along!" He'd throw his hands in the air, and they'd fall to his sides

You stand there, frozen in shock. You really could not believe what you were hearing, coming from Cassian, of all people

One minute, you're contemplating how to go about all this. Then, the next minute, you're not thinking at all

You're closing the distance, two steps at a time, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips onto his. His large hands grasp your waist, holding you tight to him

You pull away and stare up into his wide, hazel eyes, boring into yours in utter disbelief

"Y/N... I can't do this if you're not serious about-"

"Take me out then. I'll show you just how serious I can be." His chest rises and falls, and he just shakes his head and lets out a suprised chuckle

"You'd really go out with me?" He asks, playfully. You roll your eyes in response, your usual irritation returning to your face

"Rita's in 30." You pull away from him and saunter off toward your room in the House of Wind, feeling his gaze on your swaying hips. You were already planning out a rather scandalous outfit for tonight, involving a tiny red dress hanging in your closet...

"You better stop staring at my ass, Cassie, or I might just change my mind." You call over your shoulder. He prectically clutches his chest with his hand

You were going to be the death of him

Azriel

Hear me out -- Azzie is attracted to someone who is originally viewed as very naive and harmless, but has a confident and brave side as well

He would see you from afar, wearing a pretty dress, a big bow in your hair while you walk along the streets in Velaris with your friends

Your smile has this man blushing!! and he doesn't even know you yet, but he knows he must have you

"You okay man?" Cassian asks, and Azriel cooly plays it off as being too hot in the mid-day sun. Cassian just gives a confused "whatever", but Rhysand says nothing as he knows exactly what is happening here

"I need a drink, and since Azriel is so warm," Rhysand side eyes his friend, smirking. Azriel immediately starts sweating. He knows Rhys is up to something, and Azriel has been casually observing you the whole morning that he's been in Velaris. You'd just gone into the small coffee shop, the one adorned with peonies outside; one Rhys was guiding the group of bat boys closer to. "...why don't we stop in here for some refreshments?"

He thinks his heart is going to fall out of his ass right now. He couldn't go in there -- you were already in there, and he was in no position to be talking to you right now

"Rhys, I uh, I don't know if I want coffee right now," he stutters quietly. Rhys chuckles, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Cassian looks between the two, still confused

"Ohhhhh Az," he sighs. "I'm sure they have water in there, and I am rather thirsty myself. Say, Cassian looks parched too -- why don't you go in and get us three waters, hmm?" Rhysand asks. Azriel glares at Rhys

"I know. What. You're doing." He says, voice clipped. Cassian scrunches his face behind the two of them.

"I mean, I'll go in and get 'em, I am kinda hot now that you mentioned the sun-" Cassian starts. Rhys puts a hand up, stopping his Illyrian friend and shaking his head. A wicked smile plays on his lips.

"No no, Azriel said he would go. We'll just wait outside..." He slinks over to a small table, and Cassian plops down in a chair, seeming to ask Rhys what was going on. The High Lord only stares between Azriel and the front door, silently ushering him to go inside. Azriel growls, forcing one foot in front of the other before he is finally opening the door and entering the small shop

The scent of roasting coffee beans and vanilla cream wafts through the air, the smell intoxicaitng and fresh. It only takes Azriel a moment to spot you, the blue and ivory sundress hugging you stunningly and the cream bow a stark contrast against your rich, flowing hair. He glances toward the window, and meets the eyes of both Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian gives him a cheesy thumbs up, and Azriel rolls his eyes as he heads towards the front counter. You're at the other end, waiting on your order

"Hi! How may I help you?" The cheery older woman behind the counter greets him. He can barely focus on anything, let alone the fae in front of him engaging in conversation when you're closer than you've been all day to him

"Three waters..." he says. The older lady follows his line of sight, a small smile pulling at her lips as she begins to chuckle

"I'll have those right out for you," hes still staring, and she shakes her head, continuing to smile at him. "Her name is Y/N."

This snaps him out of his daze. He looks to the cashier once more. "Y/N?" He repreats. The name has never sounded so lovely. Maybe it wouldn't have, but now he knows it belongs to you. The woman nods her head

"Yes, Shadowsinger." His lips part, but no words come out. "And, she is here every day around lunch time. Unwed. So... I'd suggest you go over there and do something about that, hmm?" Azriel can't hide the heat on his cheeks as the woman winks at him, turning to get working on a few orders. That was his turn to walk away, walk over to you...

As he approaches your side in the waiting area, his breath quickens. He can't help but notice you're alone, your friends have gone outside and oh-so-conveniently struck up a conversation with his two brothers.

Bastards.

"I don't think I've ever waited this long for a drink from here in my life," you say quietly, chuckling at the end. He only blinks, not sure if what he was hearing was true. Were you really speaking to him?

He turns to you, only to find you already gazing up at him. He can't help but smile, revealing his perfect teeth as he fumbles for what to say back

"Do you, come here? Often?" He asks. He already knew the answer, but...

"Almost every day!" You beam. "And you?"

He shakes his head. "First time in."

You nod slowly. "Oh... my. Well, I hope you've tried something delicious for your first experience." You grace him with another small grin, and he feels like he might melt at the sight. He hadn't realized how close you'd stepped, or maybe he had? Only mere inches separated-

"Three waters!" The cashier calls, setting down the three glasses in front of Azriel. His cheeks heat as he stares at them, the wide-eyed expression from his new crush not going unnoticed. It isn't long before the most lovely sound is filling his ears though.

You were giggling beside him.

"Oh... my..." you say between breaths. Azriel sighs, leaving the three cups on the counter and facing you. He can't help but let loose a chuckle himself, and your cheeks redden at the sight of him

"Well, it seems I'll need to come back and actually try something next time..." He says. You continue to giggle, trying hard to calm down and peer down at the floor, shaking your head.

"Hey, I've got a lot of great suggestions, but..." the cashier silently sets down your drink in front of you, and you pick it up. "...plain water maybe isn't one of them." You grin. Azriel grabs his water, taking a long swig and you wished that perhaps it was you on his lips instead-

You turned to walk toward the door, your new companion keeping up with you and holding the door open for you to exit. You open your mouth to thank him, but he beats you to it

"Maybe you can show me what you'd suggest? Next time?" Your wide eyes gaze up at him, his hazel ones squinting in the midday sun. The breeze lightly brushes his black hair across his tanned forehead, and you try really hard to supress the grin spreading across your face

"I'd meet you here tomorrow, but;" you hesitate. "Well, uh, I have ring training tomorrow at this time... but maybe the day following?" You look at him sheepishly. He looks as if he is ready to fall to his knees in front of you

"I'll be here, the day following." You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before skipping off to meet your friends. His eyes trail after you, his cheek tingling from where your lips made contact. He doesn’t register his brothers rising from the table and approaching him

“So uh… where are our drinks, Az?”

Lucien

Classic, but Lucie is going to fall for someone (kind of like Az) who is very soft and kind but can also hold her own

He is also going to rizz the shit out of you... but I feel like that is already a given

I feel like he would actually meet you in the Day Court when he's there on an assignment, and you'd be one of Helion's advisor's daughters and he would immediately be drawn to you

The gold and white dress and accessories you'd appeared in... oh he's down bad

He saw you at first in a group setting, not really being able to keep his eyes off of you but then later he spotted you near a pond of sunlight and couldn't walk away

He was walking closer, and noticed you actually weren't alone but were actually comforting a small child who appeared upset near the pool's edge. The boy stood, peering down at you on your knees as you ran your thumbs across his cheeks. Lucien leaned against a nearby tree, not wanting to interrupt, but also so intrigued by the scene in front of him

"There is no need to worry, sweetheart," your tender words pulled at something deep in Lucien's chest, though you weren't speaking to him at all. The little one sniffled and nodded, staring deep into your eyes. "I know it is frightening when we are lost, but look," you give the boy an award winning smile and Lucien feels like his heart is singing for you already. "...I've found you, and you're safe here! You know?" You say. He reaches out his little arms and braces them around your neck, hands tangling in your cascade of curls. You pull him in close, not letting go until he does

You take his precious fingers in yours, and he walks closely beside you as you make your way back to the palace. "Now, let's go find your mommy, okay honey?"

Lucien swears he could cry, hes never seen anyone so kind and gentle. He couldn't imagine having someone like that to love, and made the decision then that he would be introducing himself to you later that evening, properly

And when he does... ohhhh he charms you. It wasn't hard for you to fall for Lucien as quickly as he fell for you; he practically screamed "husband material"

He'd taken you on many dates, but the one that was the most special was when he brought you to a waterfall on horseback, just before sunset. He tied your shared horse to a tree, and led you to a small alcove where a small picnic was pre-set, the sunset streaming through the falling water just right (thank you, Helion). Apple pie, roasted turkey, and autumnal wine adorned the small blanket, as well as a little golden box in the middle. Your hand flew to your mouth

"I know the sunset and these falls make you who you are in the Day Court," Lucien says sheepishly as he guides you to the spread. You take your seats and he doesn't let go of your hand. "I wanted to show you a little bit of what makes me who I am too..." he trails off. You can't help the silver lining your eyes as you take in the scene around you

"Autumn and Day... who would've thought." You smile at him, and he reaches for the box. Opening it, he pulls out a thin golden necklace with a sun symbol on it.

"I love you to great lengths, Y/N," You only then notice as he is unclasping it that he already adorns one of the same around his neck.

"I don't want to leave you, or this place anymore," he says, reaching behind your neck to fasten the clasp. He breathes in your hibiscus scent, and his fingers trail down the side of your cheek. You can't help but let a tear slip free, realizing you'd never have to say goodbye again

"I won't ever leave you, or this court, again."

Eris

You caught the attention of Eris because you were plain

Literally

Eris was so excited (but, confused?) because he'd never genuinely loved a female beyond his sexual encounters, then he'd met you and you'd absolutely ruined everyone else for him

You were overlooked by everyone, which made you feel horrible most of your life, but Eris treated you like a queen, and he appreciated your simplicity and liked how uncomplicated you were

You were not even High Fae; which didn't go over well with Beron, but Eris didn't care. You made him feral. He'd kill his own father for you if it meant spending the rest of eternity with you.

His father was always trying to marry him off with other High Fae or noble females, but they were always too much to handle or too bratty and stuck up to Eris

He also didn't appreciate his father telling him who he would be allowed to chose and who he couldn't

But boy oh boy, did he choose you

He liked to keep your outings private, so no one would be able to swoop in and ruin the time you had together

But, that did not stop him from going all out for you and giving you all of the things you did not get to indulge in

He definately used his status to his advantage...

Your favorite date to go on -- a repeat date, as it was a shared favorite -- was to the orchard. Eris would spoil you by taking you shopping the day prior (you'd almost always choose a crimson or maroon sundress with matching flats) for a new outfit, and you'd wear said outfit the next day

You'd always wear one of his rings, though the two of you were not yet properly wed, and the sight of it made him weakkkkk I am telling you weak

He'd reserve the orchard for the day, and the two of you would ride on the wagon, share warm cider, and walk along the treelines as you both did when you were just young children

Obviously there would be apple picking, and he'd purposefully wander near a tree with ones dangling higher than you could grasp

"Eris, I can't-" you huff, stretching an arm up and dancing on your tip toes in search of the hanging fruit on a branch out of your reach. His eyes would wander, taking in your bare legs as your short dress rode up higher on your thighs-

Ughhhhh, this is not the place, Eris

"Allow me, my love." He would bend down, hiking you up on his shoulder and standing at his full height, arm bent and wrapped around your knees as you sat atop his shoulderblade. You'd wobble a bit, but, now you could reach the Honeycrisp you'd been going for.

Reaching toward branch, you grab on and yank. Seeing it glimmering in the warm September sun, you can't help but to bite into it, a satisfying crunch as a tiny drop of juice trails from the corner of your lips. A satisfied "hmmm" escapes your throat as you close your eyes, but the male beneath you catches on to what you're doing

"Heyyy," Eris slides you off his shoulder, hands firmly gripping your hips and gently setting you on your feet. Your spun around to face him, and he smirks down at you. Your now wide eyes stare into his amber ones as he leans in, licking the drop near your mouth and then leaning in close to your ear

His breath was warm on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. His warm hands trailed up and down your upper arms, his voice low and husky. "These are for picking -- I thought we could eat... later..."

Tamlin

So... stay with me here on this one. Tam Tam is getting a mate that has a power dynamic that is going to absolutely match his okay

Whatever energy you give me, I'm matching it... that is the dynamic that this duo is giving here

Also... I feel like after Feyre, he would pull a complete 180 and be with someone who would put him in his place from the very beginning

His previous relationship really messed him up, but after he healed from that... he absolutely changed for the better I feel like. I think he would be with someone who would keep him in check, remind him when he's acting out, and almost maybe scare him a little? Kind of like Cassian and his ideal mate lol

Except... his ideal girlie would also be maybe just a tad unhinged

Just like him

It's alright... we love to see it

Anyways

His mate would be very modernly beautiful, I feel like; what comes to mind when you think of "society's beautiful". Not fake, however. Just very blessed, and just born this way -- lucky her! Lol

This, of course, caught Tamlin and the entirety of the Spring Court's eye

He was not very intimidated by his ideal mate, at first, but when he got to know you a little bit better, he wanted to do everything right and not screw anything up like last time

If he did mess up, or do things that were genuinely wrong or out of line... oh did he hear about it. You definitely kept him in check

Yet, another reason the Spring Court loved you

He did get easily jealous of other males, High Fae and lesser faeries alike for looking at you too long, talking to you, and fawning over you of course

Who wouldn't?

He'd wrap his arm around you a little tighter when in public, or kiss you literally right on the mouth in the middle of the square if people were staring at you for longer than he'd like

But, you honestly didn't care. You reveled in it, the attention you got from others, which in turn, drove him wild and would lead to his posessiveness of you taking over-

Phew... yeah uhm

Dating... he wouldn't even bother making dates private. He liked showing you off, even though other guys looking at you made him nuts

You liked public dates, because you liked to be shown off, and again, his posessiveness was so sexy and would usually lead to a great time (in PRIVATE, of course) once the nice lil date was over

You'd make it even better by wearing something fun for him when he'd take you out. Let's say... dinner, for example

You'd start sitting across the booth from each other, both recieving polite hello's and compliments from every faerie who passed your table. You'd of course return them; one thing he'd picked up from you was your politeness and manners

After a little while of spending time together and him gazing into your eyes, he'd seem a little... distracted... and slip into the same side of the booth with you instead, just to be closer to you

It didn't really help his case, but he really liked the smell of wildflower and honey that seemed to radiate from you

He'd have one arm around your shoulders, tracing small circles on your skin with his finger and you’d giggle because it tickled

But it also distracted you from his other hand slowly tracing up your thigh...

...and under your short, oh so short skirt...

Finally, you'd caught onto what he was doing and sat up straight, the corset top you'd expertly paired with this outfit for this reason alone doing you justice as his gaze flicked down to where it curved low below your collarbone. A soft growl graced the shell of your ear, and you only chuckled as his hot breath tickled the side of your neck

"You didn't put anything on under this... did you?"

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throneofsapphics · 1 month ago

Text

against the contract, chapter three

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics, guided masturbation, nightmares

word count: 2330

a/n: if anyone wants on the taglist please let me know!

<<< prev. chapter | series masterlist | next chapter >>> (coming 10/15)

That night, you laid up in bed, daydreaming about earlier that day, about the future, about them when the call came through. Your throat closed as you read the caller ID. Had you been sold out?

A shaky thumb hit the green accept button, convinced your neighbors could hear your heart thundering.

”Hey babes,” you put on your best cheery voice.

”Hi gorgeous,” she said with her signature sigh, as if everything was an inconvenience. “How are you?”

It sounded like genuine care in her voice, but you knew better. Knew what it meant when she dragged out the last syllable in a sentence. Genuine care meant she would’ve truly been there for you when ... you shook your head at the memories, refocusing on the conversation. You could play the game, if only to delay whatever news she was bringing.

“Great,” you replied. Because you were, truly. Besides this call, you felt fucking fantastic. Several more minutes of small talk passed, and you knew something was up. Her answers grew shorter, words sharpening into knives.

”What is it, Ianthe?” You finally asked.

”I'm calling in your favor,” the voice on the other end of the phone wasn't your childhood best friend anymore. She was all business.

Three days later, back in their house - if you could call something this large a house - you knelt on a cushion and thought about the package and message you'd received the night before. The contents quickly made it clear exactly who it came from.

Folded neatly, the small piece of paper contained a handwritten note.

Tomorrow, as soon as you step through the door you'll be in scene. Kneel to the left of the door, there will be a cushion waiting for you. Wear your gift.

Looking forward to seeing you xx

You figured it was Feyre, Azriel and Rhysand didn’t seem the type to leave kisses at the end of a note.

A black box with a silver ribbon, tied better than you could've done yourself. Inside was a butt plug, complete with a sapphire gem at the end, one you suspected might be real. You'd inspected it enough to know there was no remote control to turn on randomly, it was a pure and simple mark of ownership. You and your body liked the idea more than you should've. This was temporary, after all.

A text message from an unknown number had come through two minutes later.

It's Feyre, save my number. Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow!

Three pairs of feet, walking nearly in unison interrupted your train of thought.

”Right,” Rhysand tilted your chin up, mouth indenting at one corner, smiling the way rich people do. “Get yourself off for us, darling.”

The flush of your cheeks was pure gold to him. He wanted to strip you down to your barest layers, push you to your limits, and leave you with his mark. Since you'd signed the contract, they'd done enough research to make any spy blush. He'd figured out you had a track history of being watched, but only with others touching you, never anything with you touching yourself. Where there was a gap, Rhysand usually found something to exploit.

It wasn't hesitation, but a moment to process, he could tell the difference. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as trembling fingers reached down between your legs. Concentrated effort kept his own eyes from rolling back as yours did. Feyre didn't have his same control, a breathy sound escaping her lips.

Azriel, on his right, had his arms crossed, expression neutral. Rhys was half tempted to have all three of them kneeling, but this was about you right now.

”It's not going to work,” you said after a little while, hand pausing. “It never does.”

Rhys glanced at Feyre, she nodded.

Feyre circled and crouched behind you, not touching but hovering enough that if you shifted your body weight you would collapse into her. Lips just a hair's breadth away from your ear, Rhys couldn't hear what she was saying but watched the fruits of it. You tugged at one nipple with two fingers, rolling it back and forth, your other index finger stroking your clit more firmly this time.

With Feyre's words, Rhys watched your movements grow more confident

Rhys watched as your head fell back, the elegant arch of your neck showing, Azriel going very still next to him, one of the man's only tells.

Legs tensed, your hand slipped from your nipple to slap against the stone tile, your back arching.

This, Rhys knew in that moment, was going to work beautifully.

After that first scene, they took you on a tour of the manor, this time showing you more of the rooms as you struggled to commit them all the memory. It would take time for you to learn your way around this place, especially the grounds. Feyre mentioned she’d give you a tour of them tomorrow.

You met them for a perfectly normal dinner, where they’d discussed a few more details.

“We ask that you do not wander the grounds alone at night, our security detail doesn’t know you yet ...” Rhys let the end of his words drift off, and you understood the implication. Here, you didn’t want to be treated as an intruder.

“I won’t wander the grounds at night,” you confirmed.

Rhys’s grin seemed a little easy, as if it was designed to put people at ease. It worked on you.

You’d thought there would be something else to the night, especially considering how much they were paying for you to be there but that had been it. Looking at the giant, ridiculously comfortable bed in front of you, it was all too easy to dive right into it, burrow yourself up, and collapse into sleep. Another day, you’d think your way out of the situation Ianthe put you in.

“I never loved you. You were a burden I didn’t need at the worst time in my life,” she sneered at you, hands braced on her hips in that very mom-like way.

“Mom,” you - squeaked? Glancing in the mirror behind her, you couldn’t be more than ten years old. She’d always loved you, it had always been the two of you against the world. Why would she do this to you now?

“Get out,” her voice grew deeper, her face transformed. White stones - no, teeth - clattered to the floor from an open maw. Drop. Drop. Drop. Eyes turned black, and sticks reappeared where her teeth had been. “Leave. Out. Out. Out.” The last word broke through in her natural voice, cerulean blue flashing where black had been, a pleading and broken look. “While you still can,” the demon that had taken over her whispered in a sing-song voice. A door locked behind you and it tutted. “Too late.”

You shot up in your - where the hell were you?

Glancing around, you familiarized yourself. Elegant canopy. Black walnut furniture

Right. Contract.

The recurring nightmare had disappeared for the last few months, but you supposed a change in scenery could bring it back. Nothing strange, nothing abnormal, you chanted to yourself silently.

A look at your side table told you your glass of water was empty.

Earlier, they didn’t say anything against wandering the halls at night.

Wrapping a silk robe around you, a gift from them, you tiptoed out of your room, the cold tile soothing against your bare feet. You’d woken up in a sweat, you realized. Unsurprising.

A giggle escaped you, what would they say if they saw you wandering the halls naked at night? Probably send you back home, you sobered. That’s not what you wanted. Letting the moonlight drifting through the large windows guide you, you trailed a hand along the walls.

Gorgeous. Beautiful. Serene.

It was like that here in daytime, but you thought the night tended to bring out a special breed of person, yourself included in that category.

You made it to the kitchen without seeing a soul, one hand firmly clutched around your glass.

After you’d filled it nearly to the top, you slowly turned and spilled half of it on you at the sight.

Azriel, in the doorway, looking like a shadow of death

“Am I breaking a rule?” You tilted your head. A genuine question, not sass. At least you hoped it came across that way.

”Not technically,” Azriel muttered, “just common sense.” The words would have stung if you hadn't seen how his mouth briefly curved up at one corner, a slight squint at the corner of his eyes. Sarcasm, or amusement. Maybe something about the night took away some of his stoicism.

He stalked across the space, his form crowding yours as he plucked the glass from your hand, shifting behind you and dumping it down the -

“What are you doing?” You squeaked.

“We have filtered water,” he lifted it above your head when you tried to grab it from him.

“Sink is fine,” you insisted.

He ignored you and made his way to the fridge instead, placing the glass on a small shelf, and pressing a button.

“I’ll take you back,” he said once he finished filling it.

“Okay,” you trailed him cautiously.

You could’ve done all of this on your own, and might have snapped back at him for it another time but you didn't want to push too far. If anything, you knew the least about him.

“Why are you awake?” He asked, and it felt wrong to lie to him.

“A nightmare,” you settled for the simple explanation instead.

“A nightmare,” he echoed. “I get those sometimes.”

It surprised you to hear him share something so ... personal with you, but you wouldn’t take it for granted. It made you want to share with him.

“It was about -”

You stopped. No. That was too personal. Too much. The only living person who knew about it was currently trying to turn your life into a nightmare.

He shot a curious glance your way, but didn’t push you any further on the subject. Why did you want him to?

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh @rosecobollway @glittervame @tele86 @randomgurl2326 @bookwormysblog @sidthedollface2 @scarsandallaz @therealmoonstone @grapeflavoredwater @fhgsvbnh @sfhsgrad-blog @julesvanslutta

acotar taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @i-am-a-lost-girl16

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze @littlest-w01f

#feysandriel x reader #poly!feysandriel x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #feyre archeron x reader #acotar fic #acotar x reader #kinktober 2024 #acotar smut

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lure-of-writing · 1 year ago

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Why can't we?

Authors Note: Oh My gosh guys, the love on part two was insane, truly thank you so much. It makes me so happy seeing all the comments and reposts it means the most to me. Part three is officially here and I am so excited for you to read it and I can't wait to see what you guys think about it. Without giving the ending away I would love to hear what you guys think about an alternative ending? Anyways if you have any request or ideas please send them in and again thank you all so much!

Summary: After leaving the night court you begin to find your place in your new life, that is until the night court comes to be directly in your home.

Word count: 4.0k

Warnings: Angst, arguing, (Let me know if I forgot any!)

Part one: Never been good enough

Part Two: Left in regret

Thesan was waiting for your arrival with the captain of the peregryn army in the common area of his home. They had been waiting no more for ten minutes until they heard the thundering of wings and watched as Kolos landed with you in his arms.

Kolos was second in command under his captain and a lifelong friend of yours. Having been raised alongside him you knew he would never pass judgment upon you and also provide the support you would undoubtedly need in the following weeks as you figured out how to put your life back together. You were born into the dawn court but had chosen to leave with the idea of being able to be used to your full potential as a spy and you did in fact find that in the night court but you had also never regretted a decision as much as you also loved the people you met and memories you made from that said decision.

“Y/n welcome back home to the dawn court, we have missed you sincerely.” Thesan the living embodiment of calm energy welcomed you with open arms and a warm hug. “I assume all went well?” you could tell that the question was directed at Kolos “Yes they didn’t try to stop us but I think y/n has something very important to tell the two of you.” Without another word Thesan took a seat in a chair and motioned for everyone to do the same. “Azriel…Azriel is my mate.” you watched with a baited breath for anyone to say anything and for a while no one did that was until your high lord spoke up. “And how do you feel about that?”

“Well considering that he's in love with Elain, not very great. But I am not going to force either of us to be in a relationship that the other does not want. He was only apologetic because we are mates. If we weren’t he would have never chosen me.” In the week that you had been residing back in your home court you had kept all this information to yourself, unwilling or maybe even unable to accept the cards you had been dealt but to finally tell someone other the Kolos felt like lifting a weight off your chest. Like it was a start in the right direction to leaving the past and starting anew.

“This is certainly unexpected information.” the captain spoke up “Yeah you’re telling me.” a breathy laugh fell from your lips as you glanced at your high lord waiting to see what he had to say. “I guess that means I can expect letters from Rhysand or maybe even a visit from the night court?” Thesan looked at you in question. “Oh no, I don’t think that will be happening. I made myself very clear to Azriel that I didn’t want to be his second choice or anything like that. If I haven’t been good enough for him in the almost five hundred years of knowing him then why would I suddenly be good enough now? I’m not interested in partaking in those mind games.”

“Very well. I support whatever decision you make. Always.” you bowed your head in appreciation to the kind ruler. For as long as you remember Thesan has always been kind to you, always let you do as you wish and have control over your own life. He never offered any input unless asked and always listened with compassion while allowing you to figure out your own life, the least you could do is serve in his court to at least restart to repay him for all the care and compassion he has shown you in life. “Thesan? If you would allow it, I would be honored to serve in your court again, it's the least I can do to repay the kindness you have shown me.” you could tell the captain was uneasy with your request and it made sense you had just come from the night court claiming Azriel as your mate and now wanted to serve in his lover's court. But truly you wanted nothing more than to leave behind the past and start building your new life in the dawn court. The court you were always supposed to be in. “It would be an honor to have you serve in my court.”

Surprisingly it had been almost six months after leaving before the night court reached out to set up a meeting with you and the high lord but upon your request it was denied. You had finally settled into a routine not only within the court but within your own life and you had no plans of having any member of letting the night court interrupt that. “So how many more times do you think that they are going to send a letter before they get the hit?” Kolos sat at the kitchen table and watched as you made the both of them breakfast. “Honestly I don’t know. It's one thing in Rhysand is sending them himself but it's another if Azriel is asking him to send them. You know how Illyrians are, too stubborn for their own good.” Kolos couldn’t help but laugh at your statement for it held nothing but truth. “I suppose you are not wrong but what happens if there is a high lords meeting? You will be expected to attend.” The food was set before him as you moved to take the seat next to him. You placed you head on your head and smiled at him “It's a good thing I have my own personal warrior to protect me”

During the first initial weeks you stayed in the court palace but soon after you moved into Kolos house. At first it was only because you would never pass up the opportunity to live with your friend, especially in the time of trying to move past your old life of the night court and what's a better idea then moving forwards with the support of a lifelong friend. As the six months came and went you found yourself becoming interested in Kolos and it was safe to say that the same could be said for him. The line that was becoming increasingly more blurred of friends and lovers had never been crossed but something told you that it would be very soon.

You were at the daily meeting with Thesan and all of his other trusted advisors including Kolos when the announcement was made. “Rhysand has requested a high lords meeting, he also asks that it be held here.” there it was, the final card that you knew Rhysand had to play. Unlike most courts, Thesan had two emissaries, one was an older male and the other was you. He handled the day and night court while you handled the summer, spring, autumn and winter court. Theo, your counterpart, could not handle the likes of Berons offspring but unlike him nothing brought you more joy then the verbal sparring match that was bound to happen while dealing with Eris. Being in charge of the seasonal courts meant you had no idea what was happening with the other ones. Didn’t know it was escalating to the point of a high lords meeting being called but you also knew that when it came to Rhysands brothers he would stop at nothing to help them.

You could feel everyone's eyes on you. Nobody knew the full reason as to why you had returned to the dawn court but your departure from the night court had piqued enough interest that the fae in the room were looking to you for the answer as to why Rhysand requested this meeting. You knew why but refused to acknowledge it. “And what exactly is the reason behind this meeting?” Kolos was quick to pull the attention away from yourself and onto him. “He wants to see how everyone is doing after the war and talk over next moves.” you watched as Thesan weighed his options. “Very well, the same rules apply as last time.”

The date of the meeting had been set for three months after the letter had been read, as it was to ensure each court would be able to attend despite their excuses. You had spent the morning getting ready trying to fight off the nerves of having to see your old family again when Kolos decided that he had enough of watching you fight the thoughts running loose in your head. Leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed he simply watched for a minute as you perfected your makeup. “You do know that if Azriel tries anything I will kick his ass.” startled you look through the mirror to meet his eyes. “You also do know that the last time there was a high lord meeting that he was able to get through the barriers? I mean you were there.” Kolos simply gave you a shrug and a sly smile before taking in your outfit. A beautiful dress adored your body, it was a soft blush orange color as if to mimic the color of the sunrise. The top of the dress was a v-neck that stopped just below the sternum with straps on the top that started on one side wrapped around your neck and connected to the other side as if to make an x on your chest. The sleeves see through and flowy while the bottom of your dress had two hip high slits on each side of your hips. The whole dress was stunning.

Kolos knew that the dress you picked out was nothing out of your usual attire but after seeing you in night court clothes for so long it was nothing short of breathtaking to see you in dawn court attire, and it didn’t help that your dress was fit for a queen. As much as he would love to sit here and drink in your beauty for as long as you would let him, Thesan wouldn’t be pleased if you were last to the meeting that was being hosted in his court mostly for the reason of your old personal matters. So without another word said he ushered you to the door and from there you winnowed to the court palace.

Ryhsand was fashionably late as always but of course not without letting his shadowsinger and general making sure it was safe first. You watched from afar as he appeared from thin air and assessed that it was safe for his high lord and lady. Soon after the inner circle appeared before your very eyes. You watched as they took their seats across from where you were sat at the side of Kolos. Thesan was in the middle and to the right of him was his captain and to his right was Kolos and at his side was you. It was a safe bet to make that they were surprised to see you on the side of warriors and not the side where the other important court members sat.

You felt as if Azriel tried to catch your eyes but you refused to give him that satisfaction so instead you focused on watching all those in the room except the night court. “I forgot to tell you that you look stunning by the way.” Kolos had leaned over to whisper into your ear and intern place himself just mere inches from your face. “I see what you’re playing at but thank you.” you whispered back as you felt Azriel stare weigh on your body. “I’m not playing at anything, I simply forgot to compliment you earlier and thought I should do it before the chaos ensues.”

From the moment Azriel arrived his eyes couldn’t leave your body. They assessed you from head to toe to make sure you were ok before taking in your outfit. The night court attire looked good on you but he hates to admit the dawn court was devastatingly beautiful. He took in every part of your exposed skin and wished he could keep the eyes of every male and female off of you so that nobody got the idea of approaching you.

Azriel knew that you were avoiding making eye contact with him and anyone else from the inner circle and he would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt but he also knew he was to blame. But nine months had passed since he seen you last and he wanted nothing more than to sit down and be able to explain everything, to beg for your forgiveness and make the mating bond work. In those first six months Azriel sent letter after letter along with Rhysand pleading for you to come back and just talk to him but eventually he realized you wouldn’t so he asked Rhysand to call this meeting in hopes that he would get a moment alone with you to tell you everything he needed to say.

What Azriel didn’t account for was for you to be seated directly next to the random man he saw when you had come back to the house of wind to collect your belongings. He also didn’t account for the said random man to put his face so close to yours that if you moved you would be kissing. Azriel watched as the man whispered something in your ear and you turned to face him with a light blush now coloring your cheeks and soft smile gracing your features and before he knew it he was in between the two of you.

“Don’t ever get that close to my mate again.” Azriels words were thinly veiled with a promise of a threat. “Who is to say that she is your mate shadowsinger? As far as I knew you were with the middle Archeron sister. What was her name again? Ella? No…it’s Elain right?” Kolos knew that he was dancing on the edge of a fine line when it came to upsetting Azriel but he also knew that he was a warrior in his own right and could also handle his own if it came down to a fight.

It was as if you had been watching everything happen in slow motion. From Kolos complimenting you to Azriel appearing right before you and now them bickering. Snapping out from the haze you were in you grabbed Azriels arm marched him back over to the night court and demanded that Rhysand winnow you to the river house.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you yelled at your so-called mate. Without another thought you stalked up to Azriel and started pushing an accusing finger into his chest. “What made you think you had the right to do that! In front of the other courts also? Are you out of your mind?” Azriel had nothing to say, he had never seen you this mad, not even when you were yelling at him about Elain. He could see the redness creep up your neck and slowly take over your face, he watched as the rage built behind your eyes. Backing away from him you turn to look at the rest of the group and spot Elain sitting in the corner holding nyx. The person who started this all. You leveled her a glare before turning your attention back to the man who decided to play hero when it wasn’t necessary.

“Do you really think I needed you to come to my rescue like some damsel in distress? I know that this might be new news to you but I am no such thing and have never needed your rescuing, especially not now. That man you decided to threaten was Kolos, my childhood best friend for your information since you seem to think he's some sort of threat to my life. He will never be someone I need saved from. You on the other hand, well the same can’t be said for you.”

“I know you don’t need me to save you but y/n, that man could have kissed you if he had leaned forward. Please try to see that from my point of view. He may be a childhood friend of yours but you are my mate and I can’t just allow another male around you like that.” If you weren’t mad before then now you were livid. How dare he talk about someone being close enough to kiss you when the whole inner circle knew that he and Elain were doing much worse. “Let's get one thing clear, Azriel, I may be your mate but I do not want this bond. I refuse to let myself fall into a relationship where I am only wanted because the bond makes you want me. So if I want another male to kiss me then that is my decision only, you will have no input.” Once again you were face to face with Azirel, anger radiating from your very body. “You want me to look at that situation from your point of view? Ok Azriel, then let's look at you and Elain from my point of view shall we? How about all those times when she purposefully pushed herself into you or the times when she would need “extra” help with something as simple as stretching or when you two would sit and whisper to each other at family dinners. You also could have kissed her if you happened to move any closer. Plus let's not act like you two are innocent, everyone here knows what you two did behind closed doors. Oh and one last thing Azirel you do not allow who gets to be around me. You never have and you never will.”

Through the mating bond Azriel could feel your resentment not only towards him but also the situation and it was the first time the spy master could truly say he was feeling panicked. Azriel knew he had made a grave mistake but he also knew that he would have never even looked in Elains direction if he knew about the mating bond. If only you could see that he would spend the rest of his life apologizing for the pain he caused you if you would let him close enough to do so. He just had to get you to understand how sorry he was.

Rhysand could see that the situation was escalating on your part and that Azriel needed a minute to think of how to approach you so he tried to step in and help. “Y/n I know that you are upset with Azriel, but I think you need to step back from the situation and take a moment to calm down.” Rhysand may be a high lord but the pure hostility coming from you could rival his own power and deep down he knew he made a mistake interjecting.

“I need to calm down Rhysand? That's hilarious coming from you, I mean I do remember you being willing to kill Tamlin with your own bare hands for what he did to feyre. But I need to calm down? Alright.” Turning back around to deal with Azriel you found him on his knees before you. “Y/n I know that I fucked up. I know that I should have realized sooner that you had feelings for me because that is my job as spymaster to be aware of the slightest things and I am sorry that I failed to see that, but you have to understand, if I had known about the bond I would have never even looked in Elains direction. I know I can’t control who's around you but you have to understand I just want to keep you safe. And I know that Elain and I aren’t innocent but I will spend the rest of eternity making it up to you, you just have to let me.”

For a second all you could do is stare down at Azriel and feel his sorrow through the bond. And for a second you wanted to forgive him but deep down you knew that this moment would be something you could never let go, never get past. You knew that Azirel could spend the next thousand years apologizing but some part of you would never be able to fully trust him. And the realization broke your heart but you knew you also owed it to yourself to never be treated this way no matter the circumstance. A heartbeat later you knew the choice you had to make.

“Azriel, get up.” He had never heard your voice so dejected before and he knew something was wrong. “ I do not care that you were with Elain. Did it make me happy? No. but you were also with her before I knew about the bond so I guess it doesn’t matter but what does matter is that up until that point I had spent hundreds of years showing you my love with no acknowledgement ever but suddenly this “wholesome” human girl appeared ,who was afraid of fae mind you, and you were infatuated with her as if she hung the moon and the stars. What I do care about is that if it weren’t for the bond we share you would have never considered picking me instead of her, would have never looked my way. I mean hell you forgot me on the battlefield because Elain needed you.”

The inner circle watched as you took a frustrated breath in while trying to collect your emotions and they held their breaths also while waiting for you to say something else. “I have wanted a mate for as long as I knew about their existence and as much as I want to have this with you Azriel I can’t. There will always be a piece of me that can’t let this go. You could spend forever apologizing but I will never be able to fully accept it, and neither of us deserve that. I deserve to never be anything but the only choice and you deserve to be with someone who doesn’t have an ounce of resentment in their heart towards you. So no, I can’t do this.”

“Why can’t you see that I am picking you! I want you! I want this bond, I want this relationship! If this is what you want and it's what I want, why can’t we make this work? I would rather have you and you be mad at me for the pain I’ve caused you then to not have you at all. I will grovel at your feet until you see that I want this, if that's what I have to. I will do anything. Please…please just let's at least try.” Azirel had never felt so many conflicting emotions at once. Anger, heartbreak, nerves. You name it he's experiencing it waiting for your response.

“I’m…. I am so sorry Azriel. I can’t. At least not right now. I need time to process and to heal. I need time away from you and this and the whole situation. I need to find the version of me that is not the one who would do anything for an ounce of your attention. I am not saying no for forever but for now I am and for however long else I need. I won’t do anything to the bond but please don’t send me your emotions. I need to sort mine out without trying to figure out yours also. I do not know how long it will take but maybe someday in the future we can try again.”

With the permission from Thesan, Kolos winnowed to the river house to make sure you were ok and to bring you back from the night court. What he wasn’t expecting to find was Azriel on his knees before pleading for your forgiveness. He watched from afar as you explained why the mating bond couldn’t be. He disregarded Azriels form as you turned away from him and walked towards himself. Kolos wasn’t sure how you knew he was there considering you never once looked away from Azriel until you walked away but without any words needed he took your hand and winnowed away back to the dawn court to begin your healing.

Taglist: @j-pendragonx , @piceous21 , @harrystylesfan2686 , @kemillyfreitas , @naturakaashi , @kalulakunundrum , @thelov3lybookworm , @marina468 , @feyres-fireheart , @thalia-as-blog , @blurredlamplight , @wallacewillow0773638 , @inkedaztec

#azriel acotar #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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lovemyromance · 2 months ago

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Now this has likely already been analyzed and theorized over the course of the past 3-4 years in this fandom, but since I haven't seen it before I am presenting a theory:

We all read the Elriel moment with the potato dish in ACOSF and clocked it as something interesting. It's not necessarily romantic per se, but it's thoughtful. It's odd enough to call attention to such a normal scene of serving dinner that I raised my eyebrows and wondered why SJM even wrote this.

Now, bear with me while I present the same content for the 308th time probably, but this time, like a tour guide at Jurassic park:

A few things to call out here:

See how Elain goes still at the sight of Azriel? It's parallel to that scene in ACOWAR where Cassian & Azriel both go still at the sight of Nesta & Elain.

Then we have Azriel. He "just moved towards her", like it was instinct. AND THEN - here's the real keep-you-awake-at-night point: Mor tenses

Why does she tense? Why are HER reactions to Elriel moments always so peculiar? Even in ACOWAR, we have this moment when Azriel disappears (where did he go?) and Mor stares at where he had been standing? What is Mor thinking?

It's interesting because we don't know what her powers are other than "Truth" - whatever tf that means. What if she sees something between Elain & Azriel that surprises her, even?

The story gets even deeper when you combine Azriel AND Feyre questioning the cauldron. I cannot stress this enough when I say that no other pair of mates has been questioned in this series other than Elain & Lucien. You have MULTIPLE main characters describing their relationship or lack thereof as uncomfortable and questioning their bond.

Now, I'm not going to sit here and say the Elucien bond is fake. I don't think it is, but I genuinely think Elain - as the cauldron's favorite - might have two bonds. One with Lucien - Cauldron Made, likely to provide strong offspring but not necessarily an ideal love match, like Rhys & Tamlin's parents. But then also one bond with Azriel, which is blessed by the Mother, which is more similar to what Feysand and Nessian have.

And I think that entire scene with the potatoes, everything from describing the potato steam like "Azriel's shadows" to Azriel not letting anyone eat before she sits down - I think it's a big hint that Elain & Azriel also share some kind of bond. I think Azriel, at least, is more aware of the traditions and religion so he has an idea of what he's feeling. It's what leads him to ask the question "What if the cauldron was wrong?" (And then later discover it was, in fact, wrong)

I have a theory that Azriel at least suspects there's a bond between them. Maybe that's why he took the potato dish out of her hands, so she couldn't serve him. He didn't want to give her another "You're my mate" PTSD. Or he might not realize WHAT it is yet, be he can feel it. He knows there is something there between them.

It's why he questions the cauldron (nobody is questioning their religion over 'just lust'). It's why Mor sees it too. It's why Azriel can smell the Elucien bond and it makes him sick. It's why he went sicko mode when he realized she had been taken by the Cauldron. It's why Elain knows him so well, even though we only see a handful of their interactions on the page. It's why their BC encounter was so hot and full of UST. Like they are down bad for each other and it is CLEAR.

#elriel #acotar #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #pro elain #elain #pro elriel

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thisblogisaboutabook · 8 months ago

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Bad Idea Right - Part 7

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Soft Eris! Brooding Azriel! Meddling Nyx! Nosey Azalea! Reader has feelings! Enjoy.

Part 6 Part 7.5 (Prequel Headcanon)

Warnings: Language

How convenient that the moment I show up in a compromising position at my door step with my half-naked lover? Fuck buddy? For all intents and purposes we’ll say boyfriend to spare my father from a heart attack at such a salacious relationship status. Surprise, Eris! You may be an oh-so-noble High Lord but now you’re my boyfriend too. Time to meet the parents! Again. But I digress, my father’s busy schedule conveniently cleared right up as Eris and I showed up at the door.

And Eris, the bastard, accepted his complete and utterly insincere offer to come in for lunch.

He winnowed back to his place beforehand to change into something more befitting of the situation at hand.

It was my intention to dart to my room, put on more clothing than my skimpy underwear and hide there until Eris returned but…. Azalea had other things in mind. No sooner than I dressed, she barreled in through the door.

“Sissy! I missed you. Why didn’t you have clothes on?”

Following her into the room came my mother. “Azalea, why don’t you go help dad set the table.”

Her jaw dropped “But-“

“Please, Azalea. We don’t want Eris to return while we are unprepared. That would make us poor hosts.”

She mulled over it for a moment before letting out a breath. “Fiiiiiine.”

As she ran off down the hall, my mother approached me, seating herself on the edge of the bed.

Here comes the lecture.

Her soft face, frozen in eternal youth remained neutral. “Y/N, your father was mortified to walk out and find you two like that.”

I waited for her to continue but to my absolute shock, she raised her hand to her mouth and LAUGHED. A true, genuine laugh.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. I know it must have been so uncomfortable for you.” Her laughter was contagious, I couldn’t hold back the very slight grin that tilted the corners of my lips upwards. “I just- he’s so hard to surprise. I can count on both hands the amount of times I’ve ever seen him shocked, and Y/N, half of them have been because of you.”

Her laughter softened as she placed a hand softly upon my cheek. I leaned into it. “I love you, Y/N. Your antics and the surprise you bring to our lives makes immortality far less dull.”

I didn’t realize how much I needed this moment with my mother. It was easy to forget that she was more than just “mother”. She was a strong female with a sense of humor and more purpose than just tending to a home and garden and doting over her children.

I am an adult now. She is still very young in fae terms. My mother could be my friend if I’d only let her.

As her laughter died, a memory struck me.

The burning flame drives away the wild shadow.

“The vision from Starfall. What about that? You seemed so upset.”

Mother took my hand. “Y/N, my visions are only a piece of a puzzle, not the entire picture. It could mean anything. The situation itself took me by surprise and the vision felt ominous in the moment but it may not mean anything. And despite the situation that just unfolded at our door, I trust you to use your best judgement. If you feel safe and happy, that’s all I can ask for.”

Elain Archeron, seer and pragmatist. Who knew?

——————

Forks scraped on plates and glasses clanked on wood as the five of us tensely ate our lunch. My appetite non-existent at this point in time. Eris decided to show up in his most noble High Lord attire because why not make this lunch more stiff and uncomfortable than it needs to be? And while he may have been dressed for the part of serious High Lord, his posturing oozed irreverence. with a saccharine grin plastered onto his face. A silent battle of wills raged between he and my father, who would cut the tension by breaking through the silence first?

My father, cauldron bless him, only sat stiffly in his chair, trying his damndest (and failing) not to clench his jaw, while his fists wrapped tightly around his utensils - as if he were afraid he’d set them down and his fists would immediately go flying toward Eris’ face.

My mother sat directly across from me, passing the occasional eyebrow raise in my direction - a silent sentiment of “Males. Am I right?”

Meanwhile, Azalea bounced eagerly in her chair, eyes darting back and forth between my father and Eris. Sparing the two males of a shot to their male egos, she broke the silence. “Well??? Is anyone going to say something?”

“Azalea” my mother warned. To which Azalea let out a dismissive huff before opening her mouth again. “Hey fire-uh, Eris! Do you love my sister? Are you going to get married?”

I choked on my water, father somehow managed to grip his utensils tighter, and Eris only chuckled. “I’d have to get her to go on a proper date with me first.”

While his intentions were genuine with the statement, my father visibly paled as if remembering what two adults who aren’t on dates tended to get up to.

“Ohh! A date! Sissy, why don’t you go on one?”

“Eris is a High Lord, Azzy. It’s hard to schedule time for one.”

“What about Aunt Feyre’s art exhibit? You could dress up fancy and go to Sevenda’s and Eris, you could get her flowers!”

A small part of me lit up at that. I had never considered a date as an option. A larger part of me wanted to fall through the floor immediately only to resurface once everyone had left the table.

Eris glanced toward me, likely noticing my slightly reddened cheeks. With a grin he said, “I’d like that. When’s this exhibit, Azalea?”

The comment sent Azalea into a frenzy as she gave him all the details of the day, the time, the gallery, her favorite works, and into her own interest in art and painting, and how Aunt Feyre keeps a picture that she’d painted of a Unicorn - which is very different from a Pegasus, thank you very much - framed in her gallery.

Azalea may be the biggest busybody of us all but gods was I thankful for her chatty ways and tendency to overshare in the moment.

As Azalea rambled on a loud knock banged on the door, far too loud for my lingering headache from the night before. My shadows practically hissed in irritation at the disruption. And then, as I saw my fathers tense features shift from his own state of irritation into relief, rage flickered inside me.

I glowered. “Are you fucking kidding me, dad?”

Ignoring my question completely, he strode to the door only to be greeted by Cassian’s hulking figure and Rhys.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how cheeky he was feeling, Nyx strode in behind them.

If Eris was phased, he didn’t show it. Powerful High Lord or not, I had to give it to him. My- the male had balls.

Cassian clapped Eris on the shoulder as he strutted in. “To what do we owe this pleasure, High Lord?” Cassian’s ability to bait with only his tone of voice was rather impressive. Almost as impressive as Eris’ ability to remain unbothered by his efforts.

Nyx gave a subtle smirk and simultaneous eye roll. A show of “Oh I’m enjoying this very much but I empathize with you as well, cousin.” Rhys only gave Cassian a cautioning glare and likely a stern mental warning of “he’s still a High Lord and you will treat him as such.”

I forgot I still had a bone to pick with him over whatever secrets he and Eris had been keeping.

In fact….. since they were all here why not make this more uncomfortable for everyone - not JUST me.

Cassian, Rhys, and Nyx poured themselves glasses of whiskey before finding chairs at the table. Because why not mix in alcohol to this shit show? It’s not uncomfortable enough as it is.

“So,” I mused. “Uncle Rhys, when did you approve Eris for a temporary visa to rent an apartment in Velaris?”

Eris, ever the master of chaos, paled for the briefest of moments before a look crossed his features that he usually reserved for calling me “good girl” in his bed.

At that comment my father turned his icy gaze toward Rhys and even Cassian gaped.

And Rhys, the smooth prick, only replied “High Lord business, we have much to discuss regarding commerce in the coming months. Given his status it made more sense for him to have a private, warded apartment than to stay in a hotel with so many prying eyes.”

Though I thought the same, it was my father who muttered “Bullshit.” Shadows whirring in rage at Rhys openly allowing Eris to stay in the city as he pleases.

A part of me wanted to jump in and defend Eris but another part of me was still pissed to not have a direct answer.

Sensing the argument about to unfold between the brothers, my mother ushered Azalea, Eris, and I to the garden for tea. Nyx politely declined the offer in lieu of watching the drama between his father and Uncles play out.

—————

Seated in the garden, Azalea was jittery, practically begging to go inside and listen to the conversation with father and Rhys. Truthfully, I couldn’t blame her, and would have sent my shadows in but someone had thrown up a ward.

The tension between Eris and I, well, the tension from me to Eris was thick. I was still so angry with him for his secretive ways but… also so drawn to him. I craved him.

Fuck - this man and his stupid, beautiful face.

“Aw, are you thinking about me again? Glad you recognize which of us is the best looking Archeron.”

“Get out of my head, Nyx. You’re as nosey as Azalea.”

“Fine. I won’t give you updates on what’s happening in here.”

“Fuck off. Anyone have a broken bone or a black eye yet?”

“Nothing too exciting going on. Sadly. Mostly your father brooding in that rageful way of his over my father ‘encouraging’ your relationship.”

“He’s really struggling with accepting whatever it is between us.”

“Yeah, and Amren is a hoarder. Since we’re apparently stating the obvious here.”

“And you’re a pompous asshole.”

“You wound me, cousin.”

“Update me if anything interesting comes up.”

“Only if you say it.”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Fine. No gossip for you.”

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

Silence. Pure silence filled our mental connection for several moments.

“Fine.”

“Nyx is the most handsome Archeron.”

“I’m flattered. Talk to you later.”

I flipped him off mentally which earned a chuckle as his voice faded away.

He really was his father’s son. Insufferable in the most endearing of ways.

Seemingly having zoned out for too long, Azalea waived her little hands in my face “Earth to sissy!! Are you talking to Nyx? What’s happening?”

“LADIES.” Mother reprimanded. “Leave them be.”

A warmth heated my shoulder that I hadn’t previously noticed. When had Eris put his arm around me? So casually, so comfortably.

So…. Right.

And because she couldn’t leave him in peace, Azalea interrupted the quiet contentment, “Eris! I have a Sprite garden. Want to see it?”

Eris gave a gentle nod to Azalea. “I would love to.”

Mother only gave me an affectionate smile as I stood to follow them.

“This is Night Blooming Jasmine! The flowers are only out at night and this is a bench in case a Sprite comes to visit but I also put a bed back here” She motioned deep within the planted jasmine “in case one comes and needs a nap!”

Eris didn’t miss a beat as he crouched down to look at the little oasis she’s created in her garden.

“Do they ever come visit?” he asked inquisitively.

Softly, sadly, Azalea shook her head as she looked to the ground. “No.. but maybe someday. Maybe they’re nervous because we’re so big and they’re so tiny. I never see footprints but I will keep making it cozy for them so maybe they’ll feel safe. I would be their friend. We could be best friends.”

Eris listened attentively, never drifting his focus from her and her garden. And then my armored heart melted ever so softly as he warmly replied, “They’d be lucky to have you as a friend, Azalea.”

Her eyes lit up. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

“You can be my friend too if you want.” She said, looking to him eagerly.

Eris was taken back for a moment. And the look in his face gutted me. As if- as if he couldn’t fathom that someone so gentle, so unbroken by the world could look at him and see anything other than the cold, calculated product of Beron Vanserra.

Azalea stared at him expectantly, her face beginning to falter until he smiled. A broad, genuine smile that I’d seen so few times. “I’d like that very much.”

And with that she grabbed his hand and led him through the rest of the garden.

——————

Eventually my mother retrieved a reluctant-to leave-Eris’-side Azalea, as father had sent Cassian, Rhys, and Nyx home. He was likely fuming that his little plan to make things more uncomfortable than necessary backfired and she didn’t feel like dealing with explaining to him why Azalea was gleefully dragging Eris by the hand through the garden.

I made a mental note to myself to take my little sister out for pastries soon as a “thank you” for serving as a buffer throughout the afternoon. I didn’t realize just how much discomfort she’d spared me from until she had gone inside and I was left alone in the garden with Eris.

Perhaps softened by his kindness with my vivacious sister and the painful look on his face at her kindness in return, I brushed my hand against the back of his.

His face remained stoic but I could have sworn a small lump formed in his throat.

We wandered a few more steps through the garden. He said nothing but, to my surprise, brought the back of his hand back to mine and hooked his pinky with mine.

And gods damn if that didn’t give me butterflies.

“So,” he started, almost coyly. I couldn’t be hearing this correctly. “About that exhibit at Feyre’s gallery?”

“Yes?” I asked.

“Could I-“ he took both of my hands in his, avoiding eye contact at first but finally meeting my gaze. “Would you- like for me to escort you? We could get dinner beforehand.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A nervous Eris Vanserra. Of all people, he was nervous in front of the female he’d been fucking for two years.

And yet, something sparked within me at the thought.

Feigning shock, I asked: “High Lord, are you asking me on a date?”

The corners of his lips lifted slightly. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Think you can manage not to strike anymore mysterious, shady bargains between now and then?”

“I believe I can manage.” He quipped. That casual irreverence in his tone returning.

“Then yes, Eris, I will. Now you should probably get home before my father comes out and decides to make his brooding everybody’s problem.”

With that he wrapped an arm around my waist as a hand gripped the back of my head, pulling in me tightly. His lips crashed into mine, kissing me passionately. I gasped into it as heat pooled within me, reverent need burning through my veins, urging him to deepen the kiss further.

And as suddenly as he initiated the kiss, he pulled back with a smirk. “See you soon, little Shadowsinger.” and winnowed away.

————————————-

Tags: @b0xerdancer-writes @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thelov3lybookworm @starryhiraeth @5moremin @azrielsmate3 @coolepowersthings @isa1b2h3 @inloveallthetime @julesofvolterra @deeshag @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @courtofbatboydreams

Totally forgot to add the tags when I first posted this (I was half-asleep) Sorry!!

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helvegen-s · 7 months ago

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Rage, rage | four

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)

Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...

It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.

She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.

Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.

She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.

She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.

Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.

His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.

"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."

Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."

Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.

So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.

But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.

"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."

Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"

And then silence fell.

Why had she helped them?

She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.

Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.

"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."

My father.

When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?

Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.

He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.

"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”

"Well, don't tell me."

Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?

Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.

But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?

And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"

There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.

"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."

"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.

"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."

"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."

Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.

"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."

Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.

With that mask she had learned to wear.

Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.

They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.

"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"

"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."

And they fell silent again.

The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.

She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.

"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."

"Yes, unfortunately."

"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."

"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."

"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"

“Elain and Nesta.”

"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."

Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.

"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."

And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.

Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.

He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.

"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."

Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.

"I didn't ask for this, princess."

Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.

"Great, neither did I."

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #cassian #rhysand

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b00kdiary · 9 months ago

Text

Yours | Rhysand

Rhysand X Plus size reader

Y/N meets Rhys in a bar- one month after the worst night of her life. One month after he saved her. But Rhys has no interest in being a hero, and Y/N doesn't want to be a victim. They only want each other.

Warning: Mature themes (18+), swearing, allusions to SA/ r*pe, fluff, angst and smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

"For Cauldron's sake, Rhys," Cassian laughed, a husky, low sound. It interrupted my hazed thought, dragging me back to this room, with its incandescent lights and booming music. "You've been staring at her like a creep for hours, why don't you just go talk to her?"

I clear my throat, forcing boredom into my face as I roll back the sleeves of my navy shirt. My eyes move to stare at my brothers before me, both of them smirking, a knowing gleam in their dark eyes.

"No idea what you mean, Cass," I drawl, leaning back against the leather seat, my long legs spreading out before me. I curl my fingers around the cold glass on the table, a nonchalant smile tilting my lips as I bring the cup to my mouth and sip.

"No? So, you haven't been staring at the female sitting at the bar all night?" Azriel mused, his brow raised mockingly and the shadows around his shoulders dance with every word, as if amused. "The pretty one with all those lovely curves and the smile that could melt ice?"

My hand clenches around the glass at his words, just for a second, barely even long enough for anyone to notice- but Azriel does, he always does. I shake my head as his eyes twinkle, knowing he was goading me, talking about her to force a reaction from me and like an idiot, I fell for it.

"There are plenty of pretty females here tonight, Az," I counter, lying through my teeth with an easy smile. It takes every ounce of control in me, five hundred years' worth of control, to not look in her direction, to not be drawn back to her lovely form. "Why don't the two of you go bother them and leave me alone?"

Cassian snorts and my eyes narrow at him as he runs a hand over his stubbly jaw, his hazel eyes darkening as he glances at her- sitting at the bar, nursing a glass of wine in one hand while the other moved animatedly as she talked and laughed with her friend.

I felt a smile tug at my lips at the sight, at the bright grin and glowing eyes, that could indeed melt ice.

I can't help but look over her again, taking in her bouncing hair and plump, soft face. I ran my eyes down her body, over the dress that clung and moulded perfectly to every curve and dip and roll of flesh she had been blessed with.

"You're right Rhysand, we should go speak to one of the lovely females here tonight," Cassian nodded and as he began to rise from his seat, his eyes unwavering upon her, Azriel chuckled.

Under any other circumstance, I would have been laughing too, would have been utterly amused by Cassian's teasing, by the banter we always found ourselves in, even five hundred years later. But as he watched her, as that familiar desire lit in his gaze, something in me burned.

"Since you're not going to make a move on her brother, you won't mind if I-"

"Sit down," I breathe, low and sinister, and more than a few eyes turn to me at the vibration of dark power that begins to emanate from me as I glare up at Cassian. He smiles, victorious, and even despite the violence promised in my gaze, he doesn't relent. "Now, Cassian."

I could feel the Fae instinct in me scorching to life, that terrible, violent urge to hurt Cassian- he was my brother, my family, and yet the mere thought of him even looking at her, thinking about her in any way, made me want to tear his throat out.

"Now that we've established, you're a territorial prick and you are interested in her," Cassian beamed, unfazed by the intense and unfathomable power radiating off me, merely sitting back down and cocking his head at me. "Why don't you go talk to her? I've never known you to be shy, Rhys."

"I'm not shy," I bare my teeth at him, tendrils of jealousy and aggression still clawing at my chest. Cass and Az share an amused glance and I grit my teeth, choosing to chug back the remaining alcohol in my glass, before slamming it back onto the table. "I just don't want to make her uncomfortable, she might not want to see me."

"Why would she-" Azriel stops, and as usual, unsurprisingly, he connects the dots faster than anyone else would. Cassian furrows his brow at the contemplative look Azriel gives me. "The female you walked home last month- that's her?"

"The one with the boyfriend Rhys nearly killed?" Cassian scoffed, clearly remembering how furious I had been that night, how it had taken so much restraint and the both of them on guard to stop me from flying out to rip that bastard's head off. "Cauldron, I haven't seen you lose control like that in years."

"He was lucky- if the two of you hadn't stopped me and she hadn't begged me to leave it alone-" I grit my teeth, trying to extinguish the raw, scorching wrath still burning in my chest. My dark eyes turn to look at her, and as I take in her breathtaking smile, my chest tightens with the memory of that night.

The sound of her broken sobs, the way those bright eyes had shattered, filling with endless tears, how she had curled into herself, wilting like a dying flower- all because of him.

"Easy, Rhys, he isn't even here," Cassian cautions and I swallow thickly at the familiar feeling of the beast inside me rearing its head, the kind of violence and danger in me that only arose during the biggest threats, during the worst battles and now, in defence of her. "I've never seen you like this before."

"I know," I sigh, my eyes shut as I pinch the bridge of my nose, the tension in my body almost suffocating as I'm bombarded with the thoughts of that night, with the thoughts of her. "Fuck, I know."

"Go talk to her, Rhys, for your own sake at the very least," Azriel muses softly, and I can hear the unspoken words in his hazel eyes, the kind that told me to be happy, to stop putting everyone first and think of myself. "You never know what could happen, brother."

I inhale deeply, the strength of my brother's stares weighing heavy on me and yet again, my violet gaze drifts over to her and this time I don't ignore the magnetic force that pulls me in.

***

"Another drink, Y/N?" Lin smiles, her slim waist curving as she turns her long legs towards the bar, a sparkle in her eyes as she glances from the bartender back to me. "I know I need another one."

"You don't need to ply me with alcohol, Lin," I muse, cocking my head at her and she shrugs nonchalantly at my knowing smile, an innocent pout gracing her red lips. "I'm having fun, I promise."

"Are you though? It's been a long month and I just-" Lin sighs, her manicured nails coming forward and curling around my hand, settling our hold against one of my plush thighs. I smile at the worry creasing her brow, dimming the radiance in her eyes as she stares at me, "I just want you to be happy, Y/N."

"I am happy, Lin," I scoff, ignoring the ache in my chest, duller than it had been a week ago and yet still an ever-suffocating presence that loomed over me like a dark cloud. "But you know what you could do to make me even happier?"

"Tell me," She leans forward, her lovely face melting into an even lovelier smile, and her hand tightens around mine, an anchor that I'm glad for. "I'll do anything."

"Well, you can go and talk to that ridiculously tall and attractive male who's been ogling you for the last two hours," I drawl sarcastically, taking a pointed sip of my drink as she glances over her shoulder, her blonde hair bouncing as she locks eyes with him. "Don't think I didn't notice the two of you eye fucking from across the room."

She giggles, a purely feminine sound and I smirk at the way the male watches her, his blue eyes darkening into storm clouds, raking down her toned and slender figure like he could see through her clothes and Lin grinned like she knew it.

"But this is meant to be a girl's day, me and you and endless drinking until we're vomiting and regretting it desperately tomorrow," Lin groans and my shoulders sag at the conflict in her eyes- the pity. She didn't want to abandon me, and I hated it.

"I think I've had my fair share of drinks tonight; I'll probably head home soon-" I gnaw on my lip, already seeing the protest in her eyes, but when I raise a brow, glancing at that male again, she sighs, "Go, have wild sex with a hot stranger and then tell me all about it tomorrow."

I can see the anticipation in her body, and I force down the teasing remarks dying to come out as I take a sip of my drink, the burn as it slides down my throat distracting me from my own infinite loneliness.

"Or you could go find a hot male and have some wild sex of your own?" Lin giggles, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at me but I roll my eyes, slapping her hand and trying to usher her from her seat. "Fine, fine, but are you sure-"

Lin pauses, the words dying out on her lips and under the fluorescent lights her tan skin goes pale, her eyes widening in surprise as she glances, not at me, but past me.

"Hey, are you okay?" I laugh, my brows furrowing as Lin's eyes turn back to me and the smile that tugs at her lips is odd- knowing, giddy almost. "Lin, what-"

"I'm fine, incredible even, and you're about to be too, I think," She bites her lip, giggling as she lifts from her stool and onto her platform heels, her eyes shining like stars as she slowly backs away. "Have fun, Y/N."

"Okay, you too," I say slowly, half-laughing, half-confused as Lin saunters away, her hips swaying as she moves toward that expecting male. His eyes meet hers and the tension goes taut between them. "Don't drink anything he gives you!"

I laugh quietly to myself as I turn away from her, tucking my legs under the bar and shaking my head at her bizarre behaviour- it seemed Lin was more of a lightweight than I thought.

"Hello darling," A smooth, deep voice, like melted chocolate, greets me from behind and my body shivers at the easy sound, "Is this seat taken?"

"No, it's available, this one too I'm just about to leave-" The placated smile on my lips turns to a surprised 'o' as I toss my hair over a shoulder, my bright eyes lifting- and meeting with a constellation of violet.

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court- and the male who had been there when I was at my lowest.

"High- High Lord," I stutter, my eyes widening and it's as if his presence spurs something deep in my chest and it has me shifting to sit straighter, my head angling up to meet his captivating gaze. "These seats are available-"

"Please, it's Rhys," He smiled, and I smelt the sweet aroma of night-blooming Jasmine and ocean breeze as he pulled out the chair beside me, his long, toned body elegantly taking a seat inches from me.

"Right, Rhys," I breathe softly, remembering how he had said the same thing that night. Though his eyes held more softness now, unlike that night no violence or death was gleaming in them.

"Can I get a bourbon on the rocks," I watch his handsome face glance at the bartender, and I can't help but run my gaze over him- the silken raven locks effortlessly tousled, the strong bridge of his nose, the tilt of his lazy smile, how he leaned back against the chair, his powerful form at ease.

"And another of what the lovely lady beside me is having."

My eyes snap back up to his at the words, and my cheeks burn at the sparkle in his eyes. The kind that told me he knew I was looking over every inch of him, and that I, like most females, liked what I saw.

"You'll stick around for one drink, I hope?" He questions, and my heart pounded in my chest as he leaned closer, his legs brushing mine and I felt the electricity of his touch lance through my entire body. "I could do with the company, darling."

Darling. The nickname made my stomach flip, the way it rolled off his tongue made it sound so erotic, sensual like he knew he could pleasure a female with just his words.

"One drink," I nod, swallowing thickly as the bartender places Rhysand's glass of Bourbon and my wine before us with a soft clink. "I suppose it's the least I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything, I hope you know that" His voice softens, his eyes do too, and I know he's picturing me as I was that night. Crying. Shaking. A mess. His throat bobs, ringed finger tracing the rim of his untouched glass.

"I know, but I want to," I manage a small smile and the heat of his eyes on me, I feel it over every inch of my skin. Not purely sexual but seeing, like he couldn't take his eyes off me. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for what you did that night, I really am grateful for you helping me-"

"Please don't," Rhysand frowns, and his body is stiff now. All the warmth, all the teasing, has vanished from his eyes. Replaced by one thing- sadness. "Don't make me out to be some kind of hero for that night, Y/N. Anyone would have done the same-"

"And yet you were the only one who intervened," I scoffed, and his face tightened. The violet turned dark like midnight. "So many people passed us, so many people saw him grabbing me, heard how he was speaking to me. They saw me crying, heard me say no-"

My back hit the wall. Arms caged me in.

'You're nothing but a worthless fucking slut.'

'No, no, please, don't,' I felt the side of my dress tear open, the cold wind prickling my skin.

'A fat bitch who never listens,' I could taste metal in my mouth, his hand clamped down on my jaw, pinning me down. 'A fucking tease, wearing this dress and then telling me no when I want to touch what's mine.'

'Please, you're hurting me,' He laughed as I sobbed, groping along my body, the smell of alcohol on his breath making bile rise up my throat.

I heard the sound of a belt unbuckling.

'Someone please help me.'

"Y/N," His voice was hoarse as he spoke my name, pained. And when he laid one of his large, ringed hands against my knee, fingers curling around my flesh, I released a tight, desperate breath.

"You saved me that night, you and no one else," I blinked away the burning tears and locked my gaze with his. Power thrummed from him in waves, and the shadows in his eyes told me he remembered that night as well as I did, that it haunted him too.

"Perhaps you're too humble to think so," I cleared the lump in my throat, throwing Rhysand a teasing smile, or as much of one as I could manage. "But as far as I am concerned you were my hero that night, Rhys."

"I don't think humble is the word my family would use to describe me, darling," Rhys's lip quirked, and I knew he slipped into a mask of charm and playfulness for my sake. It made the ache in my chest ease. "I think the words they would use are more along the lines of arrogant, cocky, smug-"

"Charming, charismatic, flirtatious," I continued with a sly grin, and as I brought my glass to my mouth, Rhysand watched every movement keenly, shadows eclipsing his eyes as my lips parted and I sipped. "Clever, witty, swaggering."

"Careful, darling," His eyes flashed when my tongue flicked out to collect the droplets of wine off my bottom lip and I nearly purred when his fingers curled around my knee tighter. "You're inflating my already massive ego."

"I'm not done," I mutter softly, setting the glass before me again. Rhysand raises a brow, and his chest is rising and falling so harshly now. "Alluring. Gorgeous. Seductive."

His eyes twinkled like a thousand stars bursting to life and I knew he could hear how my heart was thundering in my chest.

"I fear you've got us confused," He breathed, and my entire body felt alight as he swooped his thumb back and forth against my thigh, his touch so consuming it was as if he were touching my bare skin. His lip quirked as if he knew it. "Those are words that describe you, not me."

I scoffed out a laugh, rolling my eyes but I couldn't deny the way his words made me feel. The way he made me feel. Tracing over my bright eyes and beaming smile, down my neck and chest, across my stomach and hips and thighs, his power thrummed as he took me in.

"Did you come here alone tonight?" I angled my head at him, feeling hot under his stare. Again, his thumb didn't stop soothing against me, so soft I was starting to get dizzy.

"I came with Cassian and Azriel," Rhysand nodded over his shoulder, "It was actually them who encouraged me to come speak to you."

"Encouraged you?" I raised a brow, surprised and the chuckle that escaped him ran over my skin. "What happened to arrogant, cocky, smug Rhysand?"

"Apparently as Cassian put it, I became the creep who was staring relentlessly at a beautiful female for hours," Rhys drawled, and a surprised laugh burst from me at his words. He rolled his violet eyes, but I swear under these lights, I could see a tint of red staining his cheeks.

The High Lord of the Night Court.

The most powerful High Lord in existence.

Blushing.

"You're laughing at me?" Rhysand cocked a brow, hand coming to his chest in faux offence, " I've been mocked by my brothers and now by the female, I like. I'm wounded darling, truly."

The female I like.

Cauldron.

"Poor High Lord," I pouted, my delicate hand coming down and resting over his at my knee. I shivered at the feeling of his skin against mine, and his eyes flashed down to where we touched. "It seems you can't catch a break tonight."

"Oh, I wouldn't say it's been a total loss," He mused lowly, his eyes lingered on our hands, on how much smaller mine was compared to his before they lifted to meet my gaze. Shadows and stars. Utterly consuming. "I'm here with you, aren't I?"

"And I'm here with you," I smiled, and it was the most genuine smile I've had in a while. Rhysand's eyes softened as if he knew it too. As if he could feel my content right now as strongly as I could.

But it wasn't just content. As I stared at him, at this beautiful, powerful, captivating male before me, I couldn't deny the ache that spread through my core. Couldn't ignore how just his hand at my knee made my thighs clench.

His eyes fell to where my legs clamped shut and something wholly dark filled his gaze, something that made it impossible to hide my arousal. His throat worked, and I knew he could smell exactly what my body wanted.

"Would Cassian and Azriel mind if I stole you for the night?" I asked, soft, breathless, I couldn't get the words louder than a whisper. Because I was afraid- of rejection, of embarrassment, of saying it aloud.

But he heard me. I knew he did.

I saw the muscles in his thighs tense, his whole body turning hard as stone. Even that hand at my thigh seemed to turn stiff. His eyes met mine, his mouth parting- and then closing. Like he didn't know what to say.

"Oh," I forced out a strained laugh, humiliation burning through me as I sat up, pulling my thigh from Rhysand's hold and frantically looking anywhere but at him. "It seems I've read this whole situation wrong."

He didn't want me.

He was just being kind.

He was just trying to make sure I was okay.

Of course, he didn't want me.

"No, no, don't-" His voice was sure, strong. As I reached to grab my purse, his hand curled around my wrist, gentle but firm, keeping me sat where I was. I clamped my eyes shut, twisting my face so that I did not have to face him. "You did not read this wrong at all, not at all Y/N."

"Rhysand, it's alright," I mumbled, trying to pull my hand free from his hold, but he wouldn't relent. I heard his body shift until his thighs were pressed to mine and I knew he was inched from me. "You don't have to say anything, I understand-"

"No, you don't darling," He snarled softly, and my body shook when his hand came to my chin and turned my face to his. I blinked, barely breathing as I met his burning violet eyes so close to mine. "I can hear those thoughts running through your mind right now. Stop, stop and don't even dare think that for a second again."

His thumb brushed my cheek, and I couldn't breathe with how close he was to me. So close I could smell the bourbon and mint with every breath against my mouth, so close I could count the stars in his eyes.

"I would like nothing more than for you to steal me away tonight, to steal me away every night," He admitted, his voice stern and commanding. "Some very selfish, greedy, dark part of me has been staring at you all night picturing exactly that. Picturing just how we would spend those hours."

Low, sultry words that made my heart race.

"But?" I whispered, my voice shaking. My whole body was shaking now.

"But I do not want you to see me as a hero, to see me as some kind of saviour," His words were unsteady, pained and I hated the frown that tilted his lips. wanted to soothe out the furrow in his brow. "I don't want you to think you owe me this. I want you to want to."

I swallowed and melted into the touch, the callouses of his fingers at my face making me sigh. My hand curled around his wrist, strong and sure, and I met his eyes with certainty.

"I do want to," I said, louder this time, "You do not want to be a hero, fine. But I do not want to be a victim, Rhys. Don't try and make me one."

Surprise flashed in his eyes. And something else. Something akin to fire, like my words lit a blaze in him.

"Cassian and Azriel definitely will not mind you stealing me away tonight," He rasped, voice like gravel and my body shivered at the smirk he gave me. "Let me grab your purse for you, darling."

***

Walking back to my apartment with Rhys, it was hard not to remember that night.

How different it had been.

How I had been shaking and crying, wrapped in a blanket to cover the exposed skin revealed under the tatters of my dress. How Rhysand had been violently still, his eyes so black it was as if a void had sucked away all the stars in them.

And how that awful, pulsing black magic had coiled around his hands. The same black magic that had wrapped around that male's throat, that had ripped him off of me, dropped him to his knees and squeezed the air from his lungs until he turned purple.

I remember seeing Rhysand appear in a cloud of black smoke, looking like death itself.

My head spun with how he had looked at me as he guided me home, walking trembling step after step, and something so pained, so agonised had filled his gaze. I knew it was me and me alone that kept him from killing that male, it was his need to take care of me first that had quelled the unparalleled desire he had to destroy him.

And now, a whole month later, as we walked under the sheet of stars and moonlight above, I couldn't help how my stomach coiled, a mixture of nerves and excitement dancing through me.

"I'm sure it's not the kind of luxury you're used to," I smiled, turning the handle of my front door, and pushing it open to reveal the dark expanse beyond. "But this is it. Home."

The Fae lights in my living room flickered on, dousing the small space. I stepped inside, Rhysand's tall form ducking under my doorway as he entered. I couldn't help but glance to and from his face as I locked the door behind us, watching him take in my home.

It felt intimate somehow. Him being here.

"It's lovely," Rhys smiled, violet eyes bright as he took in the simple leather couch and oak table, the shelves full of books and ornaments. He glanced forward, to the kitchen attacked to the side, drink bottles littering the island.

"I don't really bring people back here, males I mean," I laughed awkwardly, my stilettos clicking against the floor as I led Rhys further into my house. "My roommate, Lin, usually has people, males and females alike over all the time."

"I'm honoured to be here, then," I stopped at the kitchen island, dropping my purse on the table. My eyes met his, saw them darken as a smirk lined his lips "And selfishly, I'm glad that you don't bring males back here."

"Why?" I breathed, my chest rising and falling in waves as he inched closer to me. Stopping close enough that my taut nipples brushed his hard chest. "Feeling possessive? I didn't think High Lord Rhysand was the jealous type."

"Oh darling, I am the jealous type. The possessive type too," He murmured, and my eyes fluttered when his hands fell to my hips, pulling me flush to his chest and kneading the flesh there. "Because when you're mine, you're only mine."

"And am I?" I tilted my head to meet his eyes and the look in my gaze made his fingers tighten at my hips. "Yours?"

"Yes, if you would like to be," His voice turned quiet, sincere. I smiled at it, at the softness in his eyes. "I would like you to be."

"I would like to be too," My hand came up and cupped his strong jaw, loving how he melted into the touch. "Especially tonight. Kiss me Rhys."

He groans like I'm going to be the death of him. And then his head is dipping, and those sweet, pink lips collide with mine.

Cauldron, I knew he could kiss. But this was better than I could have hoped for.

My back hits the island as Rhys claims me, lips moving slow and steady against mine, strong hands keeping me in place. My mind spins as he kisses me, working me through every lap of his tongue teasing mine, one hand moving to tilt my chin, before resting at my throat.

The marble at my back digs painfully, but I don't care, not as Rhys slips his tongue past my lips, wet and hot and exploring. He groans at the taste of wine in my mouth, and my pussy clenches around nothing at the heady sound.

"Rhys," I whimper at the feeling of his long, hard cock straining in his pants, and pulsing against my stomach. He kisses and nips at my jaw, and I can't help but rub against him, loving how he shudders.

"Darling, I suggest you stop doing that," He snarls softly, canines scraping my neck and his hands clamp down, halting my movement. "Unless you want me to bend you over this island and fuck you raw right now."

I moan at his filthy words, back arching when his hands shift down to cup and fondle my ass. He laughs, sinister and low, violet eyes flashing to mine and brightening.

"Dirty girl, you'd like that wouldn't you?" He muses, smirking as he kneads my ass, rings digging into me. "Perhaps another night. Tonight though, I'd prefer to be a gentleman and take you for the first time on a bed."

"I happen to have a great bed," I whisper, my hands on his chest, pushing at the corded muscle. He chuckles again, mocking me, but he does relent, pulling me along with him. "First door on the right."

"First you let me into your home, now your bedroom," Rhysand smirks at me over his shoulder, his large hand interlaced with my small one. My stomach tilts and whirls as he pushes open my door. "It must be my lucky night."

"Arrogant, cocky, and smug indeed," I roll my eyes, seeing his smile brighten when the lights in my room flicker to life. Before I knew it, we were inside, the door closed and locked behind us. Alone.

He must sense my unease because he turns on his heel, his face serene as he glances over my small room. The double-sized bed, the pink cotton sheets, the small dresser and cabinet and more shelves stuffed full of books.

"You like to read?" He muses, walking over to the bookshelves and running a long, slender finger across their spines. My breasts ached at the thought of him touching me with those hands. His eyes peered over a shoulder at me- dark like he had heard that thought.

"Yes," I managed to say, throat dry as I fiddled with my thumbs. "I was big on fairy tales as I kid. Now I like more... adult stuff."

"Adult?" Rhysand's brow rose and every inch of me was molten as he turned around to face me, leaning against my draw with his arms tucked into his slacks and his powerful body at ease. "Adult-like romance or adult-like females being pleasured six ways to Sunday?"

I burst out laughing at that and Rhysand's smile grew, broad and lovely at the sound. He made it so easy to be around him, made it so easy that the anxiety in my chest faded into nothing.

"The second," I said quietly, and the air turned still as I moved toward him, taking step after slow step. "Though I'm yet to experience it myself. Being pleasured six ways to Sunday as you so eloquently put it."

I stop before him. I place one hand on his hard chest, feeling his heart racing under my palms. And then I glance up, fluttering my dark lashes and praying this looks sexy and not creepy.

Again, he laughs.

"Allow me to remedy that for you, darling," He grins and when his hand cups my jaw, I let myself go slack against him. His lips against mine are heaven, I could kiss this male for the rest of my fucking life. He kissed me back like he shared that sentiment.

I stumble back with him, our teeth clashing and lips bruising as we kiss and my hands touch him everywhere- through his dark, silken hair tugging at the roots, scratching down his neck and broad shoulders, feeling his muscles ripple under my fingers as I claw at him.

My legs bump against the bed but instead of pushing me down, his hands move to my dress. To the ties at the back. He pauses, panting as he pulls his lips from mine. I groan at the loss of contact, nibbling on his teeth as he draws away. But he peers at me, and I can see all the questions in his eyes.

For a second, I feel different hands touch me. Vile and degrading and horrible, all over my body. I smell bitter alcohol, invading my senses, and it's almost as if I can feel the wind piercing through the rips in my dress just like it did that night.

But then I blink. And It's Rhys again. With that lovely smile and those kind eyes. With those exploring, gentle hands and those lips that taste like sin. It's Rhys. And he wants me.

"May I?" He mutters, brushing his lips across mine in the barest kiss. I sigh when his fingers rest on the knots at the back. If I gave him the word to stop, he would, no questions asked. That was exactly why I didn't want him to stop.

"Yes," I said, and my voice did not so much as shake. I met his eyes and showed him how I felt, how badly I wanted him and nodded again. "Yes, please."

Rhys smiled and his eyes never left mine as he tugged the strings at the back of my dress, something akin to adoration blazing in his eyes as it all came loose. I braced myself as his gentle hands tugged down the material, letting it fall down my body and to the floor.

I was in nothing but my underwear now.

Rhys didn't look down. His eyes stayed on me. My throat bobbed, but I nodded to him again.

It was palpable, the shift in his eyes the second they lowered from my face. Down, down, down. Over my bare aching breasts, over my perked nipples, across my stomach and hips, over all the fat there, and down my thighs, dipping between them as I clenched them shut.

Desire. I felt it vibrating off him in waves. Like he truly thought I was beautiful.

"I hate the doubt in your eyes right now, in your mind," He said softly, and my body shivered when he trailed one finger across my collarbone, and down my chest. "I hate that you can't see how perfect you are, how fucking perfect your body is."

I shivered as he traced his fingers over my taut nipple, a moan slipping past my lips at the feel of his callouses against me.

“It’s not easy for me to feel like that,” I whispered, my voice shaking as he cupped my breasts, pinching the nipple and letting the weight and feel of them fill his hands. “But it’s easier right now. With you, it’s easier to believe.”

Something shifted in Rhysand’s eyes at my words. It was almost emotional, like what I said meant more to him than I could ever know. I lifted onto my tiptoes and pressed a slow, exploring kiss against his lips. It was the kind that I had read about books, that I had dreamed about, his lips moved against mine and felt right.

His hands are sure as he guides me down to sit on the bed and not for a moment does he break his lips free from mine. Rhysand’s hands explore my body, kneading my flesh as he kisses and suckles down my neck, my moans mixing with the wet sound of his mouth against my skin.

I’m not sure I’m breathing as he runs his hands along my hips and thighs, mouth smearing spit and scraping teeth against my breasts. His fingers hook under my underwear and within seconds it’s tugged down my legs and tossed to the floor.

I flutter open my eyes and something molten spreads through me.

Because Rhysand was on his knees before me. And it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

“Do you like me this, darling?” He muses, purely male satisfaction on his face as he drags my supple thighs apart. His eyes drop between my legs, to the swollen wetness there and he moans. “High Lord of the Night Court, bowed before the prettiest cunt he’s ever seen.”

I feel like I might climax just from his words. Just from how fucking feral he looks as he takes in my wetness, his hands at my thighs bruising as he keeps my legs apart.

I rest back on my hands, my arms shaking as Rhysand’s smug face inches closer and closer to the apex of my thighs, the violet in his gaze almost as dark as midnight as my arousal fills the air. I’m burning hot, everywhere and the anticipation is killing me.

But mercifully Rhys is no tease. He doesn’t have the patience for it tonight.

“Rhys,” I moan, my toes curling when his head dips between my thighs and he licked a broad stroke up the length of my cunt. Taking all the wetness from my entrance and smearing it up to my swollen clit. He does it again, growling, and I can hear how wet I am.

“Relax, darling,” Rhys murmurs and I gasp in surprise when his hands hook under my thighs, tugging me to the edge of the bed- and then he goes feral.

“Cauldron, oh my- Rhys,” My body is shaking as Rhys tastes me, his tongue flicking over my bundle of nerves again and again, so hard and fast I can feel the pleasure down to my toes. He groans as he does so, the sound vibrating through my core and making my head spin.

My eyes close, my arms give out and I’m lying on my back, arching against my sheets, Rhys holding my thighs and hips like a boulder. He doesn’t relent even as my cries grow erratic, his tongue slipping down to fuck into my hole, hot and warm and knowing exactly what he’s doing.

One finger slips in. and then another. And another.

Three fingers and I’m clamped around him like a vice, his fingers fucking into me, his tongue suckling at my clit, my moans, his moans- it was dancing through the room like a symphony. It feels like minutes before that pit in me starts to grow and I know I won’t last long; I don’t want to last long.

“Rhys, please-“ I don’t know what I’m begging for. But he does, he knows what I need. Because his lips close around my clit and those long, graceful fingers curl up into a deep, spongey spot inside me, hitting a button that makes me scream.

Searing hot light burns through me and I can feel Rhys grinning against my cunt as my orgasm hits me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I cry his name again and again, my body on fire as he buries his fingers inside me, still sucking and nibbling on my clit. Dragging out every last inch of my climax.

“Rhys, Rhys-“

He chuckles, like a smug bastard, lips plucking back from my swollen clit and those three fingers slipping out of my pulsing hole. I shudder, sweat coating my skin and when he finally unhooks his arms from my legs, I sag to the bed, panting.

My eyes are closed and all I can do is catch my breath as tendrils of my orgasm coil through me, disappearing inch by inch.

The bed dips around me and I feel the familiar power and warmth as Rhysand ascends over me, two hands braced on either side of my head, my thighs wrapping around his waist. I blink my eyes open, seeing a constellation above, and the sweetest smile.

“Hello, darling,” Rhys smirks and I chuckle as I take in the pleased expression he wore, loving me so strung. He lifts one hand, brushing the damp hair from my face and I croon when he runs the pad of his thumb over my mouth. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” I say immediately. Something almost terrifying drapes across his face as I take his thumb past my lips and into my mouth, twirling my tongue around the digit and staring into his eyes. He plucks it free, looking like he could devour me. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Alluring. Gorgeous. Seductive.” Rhys muttered, voice like gravel and my entire body purred when he knelt back on my bed and began to undo his shirt. “Definitely the words to describe you, Y/N darling.”

I stay silent as I watch him easily undo one button at a time, the graceful movements of his fingers almost sensual as more and more skin, covered with dark whorls is revealed to me. I’m breathless as he tugs off the material throwing it off the bed, captivated by the lean, hard muscle, and the slender dip of a v-line at his waist.

He grins down at me as my hands come up to his chest, muscles flexing as I claw down his pecs, teasing his nipples, scratching his abs, tracing the faint dusting of hair all the way down to his slacks. His eyes burn into me as I fiddle with the ties, tugging the front of his slacks loose to free his length straining inside.

I undo the last button and my pussy clenches as his cock springs free, slapping back against his stomach. It’s the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen. Long and thick, veined and tan, small beads of pre-cum slipping down the head and dropping onto my thigh.

Not sure I’ve ever had a female tell me my cock is pretty before, darling.

The sound echoes through my mind and I jolt at it, surprised. My eyes meet his, see them twinkling and every atom in me throbs when his hands wrap around his length, and he pumps himself. I whimper, his eyes on mine watching me fall apart at the sight of touching himself.

Fuck me, Rhys.

I send the thought out to him through my mind, not knowing how it works but hoping he would get the message anyway. He did- I could tell just by how hard he fisted himself now, his pre-cum spilling down his hand as he stroked up and down.

You need it, darling? Need me? He teased through my mind, so arrogant it made me scowl at him.

Yes, asshole. I hissed, and he laughed aloud, eyes bright with amusement. I need you, fuck me, please.

He groans and I’m grinning as he leans forward, bracing his palms on either side of me, his powerful body atop of me now. I felt small under him, felt like I was completely at his mercy and that feeling seemed to make me even more wet.

“Wrap your leg around my hip, darling,” Rhys said softly, and I was more than eager when he guided my thigh up, wrapping it around him, fingers splaying over my flesh. “Wanna get as deep as I can into this sweet pussy.”

“Rhys,” I whined, my eyes fluttering as he dragged his tip through my folds, the pressure against my swollen lips and sore clit making me feel like I might explode. “Rhys- please-“

He slips his tip into me. And my eyes roll as he sinks and sinks and sinks into me. Inch after perfect inch. Stretching me so fucking wide that my head starts to spin. He stops when his hips meet mine, maxing out and I swear I feel the shape of him imprinted against my stomach.

“Fuck, you’re wrapped around me so tight,” Rhys curses and his fingers tighten around my flesh. I tilt my neck up when his lips meet mine, desperate and needy for the feel of him, the taste of him, as the pain between my legs slowly eases to mild discomfort.

“Move Rhys,” I claw up his chest and shoulders, burying my fingers in his hair.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He mutters, groaning as he slowly pulls his length out, my wetness making it so easy for him to move. I moan at the tendrils of pleasure that spark through me as he drags himself out and then in, again and again, barely moving.

“I can handle it, Rhys,” I force his eyes to meet mine and I know he’s holding himself back. For my sake. I roll my hips, and the moan that escapes him as he slips in deeper makes my toes curl. “Move, Rhys.”

Rhys snarls low in his throat. And then he pulls out to the tip before shoving his cock inside me in one full stroke until his hips slam against mine. I cry out and it’s almost euphoric how good it feels.

“That’s it,” He praises, jaw clenched and muscles hard as stone as he rolls his hips into me, hard and fast, tip brushing against my walls in a way that makes me endlessly moan. “Feel how good you fit around me, darling.”

I whine at the filthy words he snarls into my ear, canines nibbling at my earlobe as he fucks in and out of me. He lifts my leg higher up his waist and our moans sync when he sinks into me, so far, I can feel him hitting the back of me.

“Oh Rhys,” I cry his name again and again, his cock inside me feeling so full, every stroke stealing the breath from my lungs.

He ruts his hips up to meet me, the sound of him fucking in and out of me, so wild and demanding, is like music in the room, mixing with our moans, our low curses, and the way our hands wander over each other, unable to get enough.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Rhys commands, and I gasp, eyes fluttering open when his hand clamps around my jaw, tilting my neck to meet him. I see the darkness and depravity and need burning like fire through his eyes. Watching my face twist, my eyes roll as he fucks me, skin slapping skin.

“I’m so close, Rhys-“ I babble, back arching and my hand curls around his wrist still holding my jaw. My insides feel like mush as he hits that button inside me again and again. “I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah? You gonna come, darling?” He taunts, and I nearly start sobbing when his hand moves from my thigh, between our bodies and starts rubbing erratically at my clit. He laughs, like he fucking loves it, loves seeing me fall apart, “That’s it, come for your High Lord. Wanna feel you milk me dry.”

There’s something so commanding, so burning and domineering in his words, in those star-flecked eyes that when he dives his hips into me again, when his thumb flicks at my clit, my entire body erupts with my orgasm.

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys-“

I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body bucking and writhing against his hard muscles as release ripples over me like a tidal wave. Rhysand grunts as I clench around him, suffocating his cock inside me, the orgasm hitting me and lasting longer than I’ve ever had.

“Just like that,” He pants, and I feel his movements become sloppier, more erratic, more careless, driven to the edge by me coming around him.

My body trembles with the aftermath of my orgasm, edged on by the way Rhys still moved in and out of me, chasing his own high. And when his forehead rests against mine and he groans, guttural and heady and low, I know he’s found it.

My eyes blink open, desperate to watch him fall apart. And it doesn’t disappoint.

I watch, breathless, as Rhysand tips his head back, exposing the strong column of his throat and the sound that escapes him, the guttural moan, as he stills inside me has the walls of my room shaking. Pure, unfiltered power radiates from him and my pussy throbs as he spills inside me, hot and wet and endless.

I can’t tear my eyes off him as his orgasm fades and I’m smiling as he sags against my body, the both of us sweating and panting, melting into the other’s embrace.

He stays seated inside me and wraps his arms around my body, sinking into my warmth and softness and looking more than content. He sighs, pressing a kiss to my lips, once, twice, a smile curling his lips when I giggle.

“Darling,” Rhys whispers, his eyes tender as he lifts onto his elbow to meet my stare, “I meant what I said before. I want you to be mine. And not just tonight.”

There’s an ache behind my eyes as he stares at me, looking at me with so much adoration, so much love that I feel like he’s wrapped a hand around my heart and squeezed.

“I want that too,” I whisper back, cupping his jaw. He presses a kiss to the inside of my palm, grinning.

“As a gentleman, I should ask then,” He teases, inching his face closer to mine and resting his forehead against me. “Will you go out with me?”

I snort, eyes creasing as I laugh and Rhys beams at me, peppering kisses at my jaw and lips as I giggle.

“Yes, Rhys,” I say softly, drowning in those wonderful, tender, violet eyes. “I would love to go out with you.”

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