#unique shelving ideas

[vehandojo]

Living Room - Traditional Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[mind4everinthegutter]

Living Room - Traditional Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[ibminternetofthingsfi]

Living Room - Traditional Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[tryingsofter]

Living Room - Traditional Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[crimson-revolt]

Living Room - Traditional Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[kewlgifs]

Living Room - Traditional Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[saltverk]

Living Room - Traditional Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[bloody-vampire-lolita]

Living Room - Enclosed

Image of a medium-sized, elegant enclosed living room with a dark wood floor, beige walls, a stone fireplace, a ribbon fireplace, and a wall-mounted television

[kennedysteve]

Living Room - Traditional Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless enclosed dark wood floor living room remodel with beige walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[marchacampinas]

San Francisco Modern Living Room Living room - mid-sized modern open concept dark wood floor living room idea with a bar, white walls and a concealed tv

[junespringer]

Kitchen - Traditional Kitchen Inspiration for a large timeless light wood floor kitchen pantry remodel

[gay-dorito-dust]

How do you think the penacony guys + argenti would react to a reader who gets flustered super easily?

Aventurine loved the fact the he didn’t have to do much in order to make you flustered.

He could caress your cheek or kiss the back of your hand and wait for the precise moment where your eyes grew wide, breath hitched in your throat as your body went rigid.

‘Oh? Is someone perhaps a little flustered from such a simple gesture as me kissing the back of your hand?’ He’d ask teasingly as an amused smile grew across his face as his eyes memorised your every micro expression. When you didn’t respond but instead avert your eyes to try and avoid his gaze, aventurine got the response that he wanted.

‘You do don’t you!’ He cried as he got closer to you, putting a hand under your chin and moving pushing it upwards so that you were forced to look into his eyes. ‘Oh isn’t that precious,’ Aventurine coos as he somehow leant in even closer to you and whispered, ‘I’m sure with enough exposure we’ll be able to build up that endurance of yours. Okay sweetheart?’ He adds with mischief clear within his beautiful eyes.

He would make a game out of how many times he could get you flustered in under a single day.

Spoiler: He managed to make you flustered roughly 10-15 times and that was only during the day!

Aventurine has a way with words with his silver tongue and he would use it on you without a second thought until you were trying to hide yourself away in his side, clinging onto him for dear life as he only laughs and kisses the top of your head.

He’s never felt this deeply about someone before and your reactions to whenever he does express his affections only told him that you felt just as strongly towards him, and that was all he could ever need to reassure himself that his feelings towards you weren’t one sided and would treat you to whatever your heart desires.

Maybe even something that made you not so secretly match with him that he knows you won’t notice until later on?

Aventurine loves your easily flustered nature but he loved you even more. You getting flustered was merely a bonus for him that he’d take advantage of as long as you were okay with it.

Sunday grows somewhat addicted to the idea that it was his touch and his alone that had seemingly had you unraveling at the seems.

He could be grabbing a cup from the shelves to make himself a drink and places his hand on your hip as to keep you from moving as he reaches over you, smiling to himself as he heard you let out a small ‘eep’ and go rigid upon contact.

‘Are you alright my dear? You’re seemingly a little tense.’ Sunday asks as he moved his head so that his mouth was level with your earn, his observant eyes watching as the goosebumps arose and how your posture straightened almost immediately.

‘Yes! I’m fine!’ You’d exclaim and Sunday moved his hand away from your hip to your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly as if he wasn’t the sole reason you were so skittish and unable to maintain eye contact.

‘No need to shout my dear, I’m right here.’ He’d say softly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before going about the rest of his day with the image of a flustered you to keep him in a relativity good mood.

Sunday adored your reactions to anything he did, whether big or small because it made him special, unique in your eyes that it feed into his delusion thst you were fated somewhere down the line and now you were together as promised by a higher power.

He’d start putting on your shoes for you and letting his hands linger on your legs and thighs for far longer then he should, or only let you tie his tie and revel in how flustered you get just from being in close proximity to him and silently watching on as you struggled to keep your hands steady as his musky scent invaded your senses.

Boothill adored seeing your face grow flustered and his cuteness aggression towards you would go through the roof.

He’d pinch your cheeks, you’d get flustered and try to push his hands away from your face.

He’d hug you from behind and laugh as you hurried your face into your hands to hide away how easily affected you were, but from feeling just how warm the tips of your ears were, Boothill had a vivid picture within his head about how the rest of your face looked behind your hands.

Back when you weren’t officially together Boothill even went as far as to puts his hat atop of your head, an act you weren’t all that familiar of the meaning behind, until someone brought up the fact that it meant he wanted to see more of you. Needless to say you used his hat to cover your face upon realising that the handsome cowboy you fancied was interested in you.

Even now Boothill would still puts his hat on your head and smile at how quickly it took for you to use it as a way to hide away your flustered face.

Would he playfully bite you just to what you squeak in shock and surprise? Yes, yes he would because you being flustered at anything and everything he threw at you only made Boothill’s cuteness aggression towards you worsen as you were just too darn cute for him to deny!

You were practically trapped within his arms from first thing in the morning until nightfall.

Argenti

‘Are you alright my beloved? You’re looking quite flustered, should we sit down?’

Sweet, sweet Argenti would grow excessively worried upon seeing you get worked up so easily over a small act of affection, thinking that me might’ve done something wrong and if you weren’t currently at a loss for words, you would’ve been able to calm him down and bring reason as to why that was.

All he wanted was to sing your praises and show just how amazing of a person you were to anyone who’d stop and listen, so much so that he forgot that his words held a lot more power than he thinks, seeing as how his affinity to effortlessly waxing poetry on the spot about you and your beauty had left you flustered to the high heaves and too meek to speak up on your own behalf.

‘Why do you hide away your beautiful face?’ Argenti wonders aloud as he watched you intently with kind, sweet eyes that drank you in your entirety. ‘Do you not think yourself the way that I do?’ He adds and once again you were left with a sudden inability to speak and a parched throat.

Argenti doesn’t mind you being flustered, he finds that it makes you even more beautiful in his eyes and would even praise you about your easily flustered nature, much to your dismay as this would only further send you over the edge.

He can’t help it! Everything you did was beautiful and unique to your character that he whenever he sees someone else do anything similar, his mind brings him back to you, his beloved because no one else can compare to you and you’re unique reactions towards certain aspects of life.

[sebastianchris]

Formal - Living Room

[sodaabaa]

late night mischief 

anthony bridgerton x wife!reader reader gets dragged into a bit of late night mischief with the bridgerton siblings while anthony is away.

tw: slightly nsfw, spanking 

Y/N walked down the stairs of Bridgerton House, holding tightly onto the nightrobe she’d donned on her way out of her bedroom. She was having trouble sleeping due to her husband’s absence. As she walked past her husband’s study and towards the kitchen, she heard hushed whispers.

“Hush Eloise, you’ll alert the entirety of the house with your cackling!” 

“Benedict?” She muttered to herself. What could he and Eloise possibly be up to at this hour?

She pushed the door to the study open, slipping through the opening. She lifted her hand to cover her mouth, laughing silently at the sight before her. Eloise, hoisted up on a ladder rummaging through one of the many shelves in the dark room. Benedict, holding onto said ladder to prevent Eloise from stumbling. 

“What on earth are you two ne'er do wells doing?” She exclaimed, turning to shut the door before anyone else could be alerted.

Eloise turned abruptly, if it weren’t for Benedict’s hold on the ladder, she would have come toppling down. She smiled sheepishly, as did Benedict.

“Y/N! My most favored sister-in-law! Should you like to join us?” Benedict said, his eyebrows raised in invitation.

Y/N hesitated. The Bridgertons always played pranks on each other, it was part of what made this family so unique. They constantly poked fun at one another unlike the typical stuffy and overly formal families of the ton, including Y/N’s own. Pranking her older siblings was something she could never even dream of doing. She had yet to join in on any of the pranks the Bridgertons carried out but she’d been witness to her husband who found himself at the center of many a prank quite often. 

“Come now, you’ve yet to give Anthony some trouble, it’s quite the thrill to see the look of disbelief on his face,” Eloise said, imitating her eldest brother’s furrowed brow. 

She huffed, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Fine. But just this once, I do not wish to make a habit of troubling my husband, your eldest brother, I should remind you. He deserves some respect, does he not?” 

Eloise and Benedict rolled their eyes in unison, “He receives plenty of respect, why do you think he’s so pompous and arrogant half the time?” Benedict replied. 

“Come, you can begin by hiding his preferred whisky behind these dusty old books,” He said, gesturing to the crystal decanter on the wooden desk.

She walked over to the shelf, removing some of the books, a light cloud of dust billowing up at the sudden disturbance. She waved a hand in front of her face, “Dusty indeed.” Benedict shrugged, “I told you.”

She reached for the crystal decanter but before she could take it, Eloise cut in.

“Wait! We should each take a drink, imagine the look of horror on Anthony’s face if he knew we’d consumed some of his prized whiskey” She stepped down from the ladder.

Benedict chuckled, amused by the idea. 

“Well then, after you, Viscountess Bridgerton” Benedict poured a drink into a glass and handed it to her. Y/N didn’t have a habit of drinking anything stronger than wine but being in cahoots with the two most mischievous Bridgertons gave her a sudden rush. She eyed the amber liquid before she took a sip, instantly regretting it. She coughed, shocked by the bitterness of the drink.

“Is this even for human consumption?” She questioned, her face scrunched in disgust.

Benedict took the glass from her hand and only shook his head as he downed the rest of her drink. He coughed once, “Leave it to our brother to drink something as bitter as he is.” 

Eloise poured herself a sip as well, throwing her head back as she quickly swallowed the drink. She winced, “Oh, that’s awful.”

The three of them giggled, the alcohol worked quickly, warming them up and lowering their inhibitions even further. If Anthony were here to see them, she could only imagine the fury. Perhaps he’d make good on his threats to take her over his knee. Her stomach fluttered at the thought. Her husband frequently threatened to spank her, ever the authoritative viscount. Anthony hated when she made belittling remarks about herself every so often or when she teased him at dinner parties to get him riled. But he hadn’t ever gone through with it. Perhaps this would be his last straw. 

As if her thoughts had summoned him, the doorknob rattled and it felt as though someone had poured ice-cold water on the three troublemakers. They scrambled to find a place to hide, Y/N quickly shoved herself under the desk, lifting her knees to her chest hoping she’d disappear. Benedict sat on the other end of the desk, resigned at his fate of being discovered. Eloise sat on the chair, a book in hand hoping it’d simply look like she was doing some late-night reading. 

The door opened, Y/N could only hear what was about to happen. Y/N said a silent prayer for sibling-in-laws. 

“What the bloody hell are you two doing in here?” Anthony asked, not angry – yet.

“Oh, brother. How nice of you to join us. Drink?” Benedict offered, trying his best to remain nonchalant. 

“That was not an answer, Benedict. What are you doing here?” He enunciated, she could hear her husband’s patience wearing thin.

“Whatever could you mean, brother? Benedict and I could not sleep so we both had the idea of coming down here to lounge about” Eloise stuttered.

Anthony huffed, “Never mind. My wife is not in our room, do the two of you buffoons happen to know where she might be?”

Shit. 

Benedict and Eloise stilled, the latter’s eyes dropping down to where Y/N hid and then back up to Anthony.

“Eloise?” Anthony said pointedly, “Is my wife under that desk?” He huffed.

Eloise let out a nervous laugh. Y/N could feel the ground shake with each step her husband took. He towered over her, his head tilted to the side, hands on either hip. 

She looked up as innocently as she could, donning a sheepish smile in hopes it might charm her husband enough to overlook their mischief.

“Hello, dear,” She said meekly. 

Anthony rolled his eyes, reaching down to grab her arm and pull her out from underneath the desk. With his hand still around her arm, he looked at his siblings. 

“Bed. Now.” 

With that, the two scurried away, leaving Y/N alone with her husband. 

Anthony let her go, reaching behind her to fill his cup with a drink. He swirled the glass, staring her down as he took a sip and then, to her utter shock, downed the entire glass at once with no indication of its bitterness. She swallowed, suddenly intimidated by the man in front of her and his tolerance of strong liquor. He turned, taking a seat in his chair, knees spread. He rested his head in one of his hands, looking at his wife in thought.

She stood before him and although he was looking up at her, Y/N felt rather small. Warmth rose to her cheeks, Anthony’s gaze was intense and there was nothing she could do to escape it. He exhaled. 

“Come here,” he motioned with a hand. She walked towards him, hesitant. He grabbed her, pulling her to stand in between his legs. His hands trailed up until they rested at her waist. Her breathing quickened in pace. 

“You’re becoming quite troublesome, Y/N, what am I to do with you?” He murmured, his hands tightening their grip on her waist.

It must have been the alcohol for she had never been one to be so forward, especially with the man before her. Despite being married for nearly a year, she still found herself timid when he gazed at her with eyes filled with desire, and hunger. 

“I recall several threats of a spanking, my lord” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Anthony’s brows raised a smile formed on his face in amusement but his eyes darkened at the challenge. In one swift motion, he pulled her down over his knees. Her torso rested on one knee while his other knee lifted over her lower body to keep her legs in place. She stumbled forward but he quickly grabbed one of her arms, pulling it behind her to keep her steady. Her other arm rested on her side, against her husband’s chest. His other hand snaked up under her robe, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. 

“Count each spank,” he commanded. His voice rumbled through Y/N’s core.

She only nodded, failing to muster the courage to speak. Her breath quickened in anticipation, suspense prickling at her skin. When she least expected it, his hand came down harshly with a loud slap. At first, she couldn’t feel the impact but mere seconds later, warmth spread across her bottom. She gasped.

“Count," he repeated.

She inhaled, “One.”

His hand came down again. 

“Two.”

Again. 

“Three.”

Y/N’s face grew warmer, tears beginning to well in her eyes at the stinging sensation. She felt electrified. Her breaths came in and out rapidly as he continued his punishment. 

She yelped, and the warm sting finally made way to a more painful sensation. Anthony stopped, assuming she’d had enough. She struggled against him, trying to wriggle her arm out of his grasp. His rough hands gently rubbed her bottom, hot from the impact. Cooing and shushing her to calm her before he released her.

“Are you alright?” He asked her softly, releasing his grip and pulling her into a straddling position. She nodded against his neck, her cheeks still warm. He pulled her back and held her face for a moment, scanning her for signs of regret or fear. She gave him a sleepy smile. When he was satisfied that she was only tired from their activities, his fingers buried themselves in her hair, gently caressing her, causing her to grow even sleepier. She hummed, enjoying the tender moment between them after days of missing her husband. 

“I must say if this is how you’d like to end nights of mischief – I might allow for more opportunities,” her husband chuckled. 

She huffed a laugh, already falling asleep against his chest to the rise and fall of his breathing. She felt him press a kiss atop her head, murmuring something she couldn’t quite catch as she drifted off.

[inkspiredwriting]

The Great Birthday Present Hunt

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: Klaus being Klaus ;)

Five Hargreeves prided himself on his precision and efficiency, but shopping for a birthday present for his wife Y/N was proving to be a challenge. He wanted to get her something special, something that showed how much he cared. Realizing he needed help, he reluctantly turned to his brother Klaus.

Klaus, ever the enthusiast for anything involving fun and chaos, eagerly accepted the mission. "Alright, Five! Let's find the perfect gift for Y/N. And maybe have a little adventure along the way."

Five sighed, knowing this was going to be a long day. "Let's just try to focus, Klaus. Y/N deserves the best."

They started their quest at the local mall, an unfamiliar battleground for Five but a well-known haunt for Klaus.

The first stop was a jewelry store. Five pointed to a delicate necklace. "What about this? It’s elegant and beautiful, just like Y/N."

Klaus tilted his head, scrutinizing the piece. "Sure, but it’s kind of boring, don’t you think? Y/N is unique. We need something that screams, 'I thought long and hard about this!'"

Five rolled his eyes. "Fine. What do you suggest?"

Klaus’s eyes lit up. "Leave it to me!"

They moved to a quirky gift shop filled with unusual items. Klaus picked up a bizarre-looking sculpture of a cat wearing sunglasses. "How about this? It’s funky and fun!"

Five gave him a withering look. "Y/N isn’t a fan of kitsch. Let’s try to find something more meaningful."

Next, they wandered into a bookstore. Five’s eyes brightened. "Y/N loves to read. Maybe we could find a rare edition of her favorite book."

Klaus nodded approvingly. "Now you’re talking! But let’s spice it up a bit. How about we get a rare book and then hide little notes inside it, like a treasure hunt?"

Five considered it, a smile tugging at his lips. "That’s actually... a good idea. But we need to find the right book."

After browsing the shelves, they found a beautiful vintage edition of Y/N’s favorite novel. Five paid for the book, feeling more confident about their choice.

As they were leaving, Klaus spotted a toy store and couldn’t resist dragging Five inside. "Wait! We need to get something fun too. How about a giant teddy bear?"

Five frowned. "A teddy bear? Really, Klaus?"

Klaus grinned. "Come on, Five. Everyone loves a giant teddy bear. It’ll make her laugh!"

Against his better judgment, Five found himself agreeing. They picked out the biggest, fluffiest bear in the store and somehow managed to carry it out to the car.

Finally, they stopped at a craft store. Klaus had one last idea. "Let’s make a scrapbook of all your adventures together. It’ll be personal and heartfelt."

Five nodded, appreciating the sentiment. They gathered supplies and headed back home, where they spent the evening compiling photos, ticket stubs, and little mementos into a scrapbook.

On Y/N’s birthday, Five presented the gifts with a mix of nervousness and excitement. First, the vintage book with hidden notes. Y/N’s eyes sparkled with delight as she read the messages Five had written.

Next, the giant teddy bear. Y/N laughed, hugging the bear and shaking her head. "This is ridiculous, but I love it."

Finally, the scrapbook. Y/N flipped through the pages, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. "This is perfect. Thank you, Five. And thank you, Klaus."

Klaus bowed dramatically. "Anything for my favorite sister-in-law!"

As the day turned to evening, Five pulled Klaus aside. "Thanks for your help, Klaus. You actually had some good ideas."

Klaus grinned. "Anytime, brother. Just remember, the best presents are the ones that come from the heart. And maybe involve a little chaos."

Five laughed, realizing that sometimes, a bit of Klaus’s madness was exactly what he needed. And as he watched Y/N’s face light up with happiness, he knew they had found the perfect presents after all.

[sarahs-library]

Forgotten: Pretty Eyes

"You have such pretty eyes," Azriel's thumb dragged your lower lip down, his husky baritone stoked the fire of arousal coursing in your veins. "I can't wait to see you looking up at me, with my cock in your mouth."

A/N - Forgotten is giving me serious writer's block right now, so here's a little smutty snippet from the same universe before the story begins. You aren't together yet, the bond has snapped for Azriel but you remain blissfully unaware. Also I love the idea of meddling Nesta. This is also my first time publishing any smut, so hopefully it doesn't seem as cringey to you as it did to me re-reading it.

Word count: 4704

Warnings: Smut

Forgotten Part One ☪ Part Two ☪ Part Three

Your POV

Settled into the plush leather couch, you pulled the blanket up to your chin, creating a cozy nest for yourself. You balanced the book Nesta had given you on your lap, the worn cover a familiar weight against your skin. The floral sundress you wore fluttered around your legs, exposing the delicate skin of your knees, which you instinctively tucked beneath the warm embrace of the blanket. Once comfortable, you flipped open the hardcover to read the synopsis inlaid on the first page and snorted. Gratuitous smut, that much was predictable. But the story revolved around fated mates who couldn’t stay away from each other, despite every glaringly obvious reason to. Her recent recommendations had all centered on this theme, which you found puzzling. You couldn’t understand the Fae’s obsession with them, or Nesta’s for that matter.

Sure, you understood the religious aspect, most cultures had deities or worshipped magic in some form. Prythian’s Mother was no different in your eyes from the innumerable nameless gods you’d encountered in your travels over the years. But even so, the Fae's sanctification of basic biology was unique. You cleared your throat and looked up.

“Excuse me? House?” It felt strange, to address an inanimate object. You hadn’t quite believed Nesta when she first told you the House was sentient, a byproduct of her cauldron-made power. But it had seen to your needs enough over the last few months, often without prompting, that you’d found yourself creating a tentative relationship with it. “Do you have another book for me? Nesta’s been recommending so many of these, I’d rather read something different.” A moment later, a small pile of books dropped onto the table next to you. You thanked the House as you reached for the top book on the pile.

A God cursed to remain locked in his mountain hold until his soulmate frees him…You stopped reading with a frown, setting the book aside with the other before taking the next one. And then the next. You reached the end of the pile, all books about soulmates or fated mates or love pairs. Maybe the House had misunderstood you. You gathered the books up again, this time placing the one Nesta had lent you at the top of the pile and addressed the House again.

“Sorry, I meant do you have anything different than a romance? Maybe something with a bit of action and adventure?” The pile didn’t vanish, no other books appeared either. You waited for a few seconds. “House?” You knew it was close with Nesta, perhaps you’d offended it by inadvertently insulting her reading tastes.

You considered getting up from the comfy nest you’d created in the sitting room to go to the library and pick something off the shelves yourself. You eyed the book at the top of the pile again and sighed. Grabbing it you cracked open to the first page. Only then did the pile vanish, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. In its place stood a glass filled with fruity, fizzing pink wine from the Summer Court. It knew that you preferred it to the heartier reds more commonly found in the Night Court. You thanked the House and took a sip from the wine glass before turning your attention to the book propped open against your knees.

A dull pain in your neck drew you from sleep. Your dry eyes adjusted to the low lighting as you began to sit up. You groaned and massaged the sore muscles in your neck and shoulder, cursing yourself for falling asleep in such an awkward position. The book, still open at the last page you were reading, slipped from your lap and hit the floor with a dull thud. Fae light housed in a dark glass shade flickered to life on the table next to your empty wine glass. Freeing the blanket from where it was tangled between your legs, you bent to retrieve the book from the floor. The hand you reached out stopped shy of the cover, the tips of your fingers brushing against the shadows that teeming it, burrowing under the pages.  

They didn’t shy away from your touch. Instead, they pushed the book across the floor into your open hand. You grasped at the leather-bound spine, cool shadows curling between your fingers and sliding up the back of your hand.

“Thank you.” You inclined your head and righted yourself on the sofa, expecting them to disperse in search of their master.

“Don’t tell me you’ve joined Nesta’s smutty book club too.” Reflectively you gripped the book tighter as the voice came from behind you. After months of living together at the House, you were beginning to be able to decipher Azriel’s moods. Smooth, dark, and low his tone of voice rarely gave away what he was feeling. But the slight elongation of some vowels and the emphasis on the word smutty told you he was amused. A delicate flush rose on your cheeks, and you resolved not to look at him.         

“I mostly go for the wine. But Nesta said this was one of her favourites, though I’m not sure why.” The shadows that had helped you retrieve the book began to climb up over the edge of the sofa, to investigate further as you held it in your lap. You could feel him inching closer behind you, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Satisfied with their investigation, or at whatever silent command Azriel gave them, the shadows began to return to his side. You were unsure of how cognizant they were. As one of them brushed against the soft skin of your thigh, exposed from where your dress had ridden up, you wondered if it was intentional. You were glad to not see his face. Not while his shadows snitched to him about the colour dusting your cheeks and the very long, very explicit description of the mating frenzy between the main characters you’d been reading before you fell asleep.

“Too tame for you, sweetheart?” You’d been playing this game for weeks now. Glances that lingered a hair too long to be appropriate. Comments that bordered on suggestive but still gave plausible deniability. Any excuse to touch, to feel the other’s skin as you passed a dish at family dinner or assisted Azriel with demonstrations for the priestesses.

And you hated it, the effect he had on you. You knew, somewhere deep inside in a place you didn’t want to acknowledge, that he was part of the reason you’d taken advantage of Rhys’ hospitality. Why you hadn’t been itching to leave, to find another place after you landed unceremoniously, bleeding and half-conscious, in the Night Court all those months ago.

You sighed. “No, it’s not that.” Azriel was standing directly behind you now. When you took your next breath his scent, night-chilled mist and cedar, filled your nose. “I know she and Cassian are disgustingly in love, but I’d prefer her to give me at least one recommendation that doesn’t revolve and two people finding out they are mates, and then fucking for the next 100 pages.”

Azriel made a low, humming sound. Not in agreement, but in consideration of what you said. You thought he was going to speak, grace you with a sarcastic remark. Instead, he leaned over the back of the sofa. His face was so perilously close to your neck that you could feel the hot breath he exhaled, as he plucked the open book from your lap. He retreated as quickly as he’d come; you instinctively turned, reaching one hand up to stabilise yourself against the plush leather.

His hazel eyes met yours, and the triumphant smirk he gave you ignited both irritation and something primal. Held aloft in one hand, he lifted the book to his eyeline as the shadows flicked swiftly through the pages. Landing on the passage he wanted, he began to read aloud.           

“His manhood was hot and hard and thick with lust. He pounded into her rough and ready, their gasps puffing in the air, steam rising off their skin.” Your cheeks flushed deeper. You hauled yourself up the back of the sofa, resting on your knees, attempting to use the leverage to lessen the advantage his greater height gave him. Reaching out, you tried to snatch the book from his grasp only for him to move it away just as your fingers brushed against the cover. He took a half-step back, still within arm’s length but not close enough for you to reach without losing your balance.

Azriel arched a brow, eyes alight with thinly veiled amusement as he took in your flushed face. You noticed the way they strayed, just for a moment, following the path of your exposed neck down towards your chest. A traitorous part of you preened under the attention of his gaze. Instinct prompted you to press the advantage he’d unwittingly given you, using the moment of his distraction to vault over the back of the sofa and close the distance between you. Azriel’s wings flared behind him, but he didn’t retreat from the sudden proximity, even as your hand reached up to grasp the book over his own.

Dragging his eyes away from you, he feigned nonchalance as he continued to skim the pages of the book. You realised your mistake then, calf muscles straining to keep your weight steady as you stood frozen on arched feet. His eyes didn’t leave the page even as his other hand came up to rest on your hip. The fabric of your dress felt dangerously thin as the warmth from his palm and slightly splayed fingers seeped through. Thin enough to feel the callouses on the finger that skimmed tantalisingly close to the edge of your underwear.

“The male says such filthy things.” He allowed you to pull the book down but didn’t relinquish his grip. Hazel eyes met yours, darkened even in the fae light. Slowly lowering your weight back onto the balls of your feet, you held his gaze. You were acutely aware of how little space was left between the two of you. Cool shadows brushed against the bare skin of your legs, catching on the hem of your dress and skirting at your waist. The breath you inhaled, made ragged by the proximity, filled your lungs with Azriel’s scent. Lust fogged your thoughts, quietening the voice in your mind that warned you of the precipice you teetered on. Even through the haze, you recognised there would be no going back, not once you acted on this.

“Do you like it when your lovers speak to you like this, sweetheart?” His voice, guttural and slow, seemed to speak directly to the embers now burning within you. He edged closer, enough that the fabric of your dress brushed against the scaled leather on his chest. You backed away, even as you felt your body react, but kept your eyes trained on Azriel’s face. His shadows returned to him, agitating a breeze that carried the unmistakable scent of your arousal. Azriel inhaled deeply, savouring it like a man half-drowned. His gaze became predatory as he prowled closer to you.

You felt the brush of cool leather against the heated skin of your back and the curve of your buttocks. He stepped closer, muscular arms brushing your waist on either side as he rested his hands on the sofa, caging you in. You held his gaze, even as he lowered his face close enough that your breath mingled. You tried to grasp at something, formulate a scathing remark that would disseminate the tension, that would allow you to step out of this room with your friendship still intact. All you could focus on was how easy it would be to reach up, tangle your fingers into Azriel’s hair, and bring his face down to close the distance between your lips. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk and he feigned closing the distance, tilting his head before passing over your mouth and whispering in your ear.  

“You haven’t answered my question.” His breath danced over the shell of your ear, and you fought against the urge to arch your back and press yourself into his chest. His lips ghosted over the skin of your neck as he traced the curve down to where it met your collarbone.

“My preferences regarding lovers are of no concern to you.” He stilled against you.

“Is that so?” The words caressed your skin, drawled and meant to provoke as he made the return journey back towards your lips. You managed a breathy affirmation, even as he trailed fire in his wake. The barest of touches, feeding your desire for more of them, more of him. You didn’t notice the hand until his palm slid up to rest on the side of your neck, gripping your jaw between scarred fingers and thumb. His grip was firm as he pulled back to look at you.  

“Such lies from such a sweet, little mouth.” His thumb stroked a path up, sweeping across your plump lower lip. You parted them on instinct. Lust-darkened eyes met your own, and a moment of clarity passed between you both. One that spoke of more than just base needs or primal instincts. Hiding in his eyes was a promise of more. Something that neither of you were ready to address just yet.

"You have such pretty eyes," Azriel's thumb dragged your lower lip down, his husky baritone stoked the fire of arousal coursing in your veins. "I can't wait to see you looking up at me, with my cock in your mouth." His other hand moved to your hip as he trailed his thumb down, palm splayed as he traced your jaw; your neck to where the cut of your dress lay at the valley between your breasts. He toyed with the edge before moving his hand to trace down your other side, thumb brushing the underside of the swell of flesh you desperately wanted him to pay more attention to.

His grip tightened for a moment at your waist before he hoisted you into the air. You gasped in surprise at the sudden movement before he perched you precariously on the edge of the back of the sofa. The increased height made your face almost level with his, something that Azriel took full advantage of as he captured your lips with his own. Your hands moved to steady yourself on his broad shoulders, fingernails digging into the leather as you swept your tongue against his bottom lip. You opened your thighs in invitation, Azriel stepped closer so that your chest was flush with his. His hips settled between your legs; your thighs clenched on either side as he deepened the kiss. His skilled tongue stroked against your own as you moaned, breathing heavily through your nose.

His fingers tangled into your hair, pulling it aside as his other hand moved down from your waist to trace a path under your dress against the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His mouth left yours, moving to capture the soft skin of your neck, lathing his tongue against it in between delicate bites as his fingers slid higher on your thigh. You rolled your hips, trying to coax him as his fingertips grazed lace. You slid your hands over his shoulders, finding purchase as you pulled him closer. You felt him smile against your neck as he trailed kisses lower, freeing his hand from your hair, as he pulled the delicate fabric of your dress down roughly to expose your chest. You barely registered the sound of it tearing as one hand came up to clasp your breast, thumb running over the peaked nipple as he bent further to capture the other between his lips.

You groaned as he continued to nip and suckle and bite at the pert bud, hazel eyes observed your through dark lashes as you arched into him, bringing one hand up to tangle into his dark locks. He groaned against your skin as you pulled at it, moaning his name in between panted breaths.

“Fuck, Az. Please…” he sucked hard on the nipple caught between his lips, releasing it with an obscene pop and a parting flick of his tongue against the tip.

“Please what, sweetheart?” His mouth moved to capture the nipple under the ministrations of his thumb, the callouses rubbing deliciously against the sensitive skin. Words died on the tip of your tongue as the fingers dancing beneath your skirt finally brushed against sodden fabric, rubbing against the slick folds of your pussy. He grunted in approval as he continued to probe, pushing a finger into your aching hole as much as the lace would allow. You moved your hand from his shoulder, taking advantage of his bent position to trace two knuckles against the dark membrane of a wing.

Azriel’s growl was feral as he bucked his hips. His mouth left your breast to kiss up your neck, teeth scratching against the pulse thrumming at your jugular.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a wicked, wicked tease?” His lips once again met your own in a rough, opened-mouthed kiss. You purposely dragged your knuckles back over his wing, it flared out under your touch as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. You pulled back, your lip catching before he released you. He stared at you, panting and pupils blown wide. You smirked as you put your hand back on his shoulder, resolving to explore the sensitive expanse of his wings further another time. You trailed your fingers down, feeling the hard expanse of muscles on his chest and abdomen before settling on the strings of his leather breeches.   

“I may have heard something like that before.” You pulled at the knot, struggling to undo it with just one hand. Azriel’s hand left your breast, placing it over your own to still the movements. You furrowed your brow, questioning him with a gaze as he made no move to help.

“There’s something I need to do first.” He stepped back, moving out of your reach as you planted your hands on either side of the sofa to steady yourself. His wings flared for balance as he slowly lowered himself to one knee, then the other, maintaining eye contact with you as his hands slid under your dress. Tracing up to your hips he caught hold of the lace of your panties, slowly pulling them over your thighs and past your knees to drop over your bare feet onto the floor. His eyes never left yours as he rucked the thin skirt up to your waist, leaving you panting and exposed under his gaze. His eyes trailed down slowly as if committing the sight of you to memory, taking special note of the flush on your neck and chest, littered with a constellation of bruises he had sucked onto your skin. Lower still, until his gaze came to rest between your legs, fixated on the way your cunt glistened in the fae light.

“I can’t tell you how often I’ve dreamed of this.” He ran the back of his hand down the side of your thigh as you opened your legs wider for him to nestle his shoulders between your knees. “Of how you taste, what you’d look like underneath me, the sounds you’d make when you cum for me.” He made sure to catch your gaze again as he lowered his mouth towards your slick folds. The hand that wasn't tracing your thigh moved to part your lips as his tongue delves between them. He moaned against you at that first taste. Dragging his tongue in a long sensual stroke up, barely brushing the edge of your clit before returning to tease at your entrance. Biting your lip your hands found his hair, wrenching him closer as you slid your knees over his shoulders. He cupped your arse, rough fingers digging into supple flesh as he fucked you with his tongue. Languid strokes that brushed his nose against your clit every time he pushed in deeper.

You moaned, grinding against his face, the hand not tangled in his hair circled at your nipple still coated in his saliva. His tongue slid up through the wetness to toy with your clit, circling dangerously around the edges before he caught it between his lips, suckling on it hard. You cried out his name at the delicious pressure, bordering on pain, his eyes watching you through dark lashes as you writhe and grind against him. He releases your clit, pulling back after a small gentle parting lick.

“Look at you.” His thumb moves up to trace your clit. He looked debauched, lips swollen and pink, chin soaked with your pleasure. “Such a pretty little cunt.” His thumb slides down through your wetness as he teases it through your puffy folds. “So wet for me, just begging to be fucked.” You felt your pussy clench as he traced past the hole, dipping further down in between your cheeks to toy with the wetness around the puckered ring of muscle there. He returned torturously slowly to where you needed him most, before plunging one finger deep inside of you. You moaned at the intrusion as he curled his finger up, rubbing purposely against the sensitive wall before pulling out. He added another finger to the first, inserting them at the same glacial pace, finally looking away from your face as he watched your walls stretch to accommodate his thick fingers. It wasn’t enough, you needed more of him.

“Please,” you begged, tugging at his hair. “Please Az, I need more. I need…” You trailed off as another finger slid into your tight hole, the pace still slow as he watched you grind your hips against his hand, trying to fuck his fingers deeper and faster into you.

“Whatever my beautiful-“He stopped himself, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard, eyes on your face again. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.” And with that promise, he lowered his mouth to your cunt again. The speed of his fingers increased, fucking into you with abandon as he caught your clit between his lips once more, licking and sucking, dragging his teeth gently over the sensitive nerves. He skilfully brought you to the precipice of your release, alternating between curling his fingers and lathing his tongue against your clit before slowing down. You keened, undulating your hips against his face and hand. Shadows bled out the sofa, fixing your hips down as he continued to tease.

“I need to see you cum for me.” He growled against you before pressing himself deeper into your folds. Your legs shook as his fingers fucked you harder, as his mouth latched onto your clit with a hard suck. His hazel eyes were fixed on your face, watching as you climbed towards your peak. Your grip tightened on his hair as your release built. Until finally, it snapped. Sending you careening toward the most exquisite bliss you had experienced in your immortal life.

“Azriel! Oh Gods…” Your legs shifted on his shoulders as your muscles clenched under your release, trapping his head between your thighs. He continued to lick and suck you gently as you came down from your pleasure, fingers moving at a more leisurely pace now as he watched you, eyes filled with lust and awe. You relaxed slowly under his ministrations, enough to begin to bring you towards pleasure again despite how oversensitive your nerves felt. You unhooked your legs from his shoulders as you moved your hands towards them, pulling as his leathers. He released you from his mouth, pulling his fingers out and admiring the wetness left on his hand rolling down towards his wrist. He rose, allowing you to capture his face between your hands in a searing kiss. You groaned at the taste of it, both of you mingled together on the tongue he stroked slowly against yours.

Moving your hands down you broke the kiss, nestling into his neck and tracing the dark marks of his tattoos with your tongue. Under both your hands the knot holding his leathers closed came away easily. You pushed your fingers under the tight band, grazing the head of his cock with your thumb. Azriel panted into your shoulder, his grip on your waist tight as you continued to tease the head, rubbing circles slick with pre-cum into the sensitive skin.

Azriel became rigid under your touch. You pulled away from his neck, from marking him with bruises similar to the ones on your own, to look at his face. A dark tendril curled around his ear, whispering to the shadowsinger. His face darkened and he let out a vicious curse, pulling away from you and turning his attention towards the foyer.

You could hear footsteps now, heading in your direction. Azriel was a picture, rock hard against his leathers, hair a mess from where you’d carted your fingers through it, full lips swollen and red. You looked down at yourself, bare breasts peeking through the ripped fabric of your dress, skirt rucked up still baring your cunt to the room.

“Y/N! I know you’re here. You’re keeping us all waiting.” Nesta was in the hallway now, heading towards the only way in or out of the sitting room. You slipped off the back of the sofa, righting your dress and trying to pull the ripped fabric of the bodice closed with little success. Azriel’s eyes had turned calculating, all trace of lingering lust gone as he ran through possible ways to get you both out of this situation. If you were anywhere else, he could have winnowed you away. You cursed whichever of Rhys predecessors put such stringent security measures on the House to a painful eternity in Hel.

Shadows moved to open the large windows next to the fireplace to let in a breeze, biting cold and pushed through the room as Azriel’s siphons glowed. A fire started to burn, smoking more than normal, its acrid smell filling your nose. Azriel gestured to the sofa, the blanket still coiled on the seats.

“Get under.” You moved quickly, throwing yourself down as you used the blanket to cover up your ruined dress and bruises. Azriel strode toward the window, taking one glance back as you tried to settle yourself before he slipped out into the sky and the fading light. You rested your head against the cool arm of the leather, bringing your legs under the blanket as you feigned sleep.

Nesta’s footsteps stopped at the threshold of the open door.

“Y/N.”

You let out a low groan, stretching as you pretended to drag yourself from sleep. You rose so only your face was visible over the back of the sofa, blanket clutched to your chest as you took in Nesta standing in the doorway. Her silver eyes scanned your face as her nose wrinkled at the smell of the poorly burning fire.

“You’re late.” Silver burned in the eyes she fixed on you, angered at the perceived social slight.

“I’m sorry, I was reading. Must have fallen asleep.” Your heart pounded as she assessed you. You hoped she’d put it down to the shock of being rudely woken rather than your anxiety at being almost caught.

“Everyone’s waiting in the library, let’s go.” You nodded in agreement, mind whirring as you tried to figure out a way out of the room, out of your ruined clothes with the reek of arousal still clinging to your skin, without raising any suspicions.

“I’ll um, meet you there. I just want to quickly freshen up and grab the book from my room.” Nesta’s eyes scanned you, before inclining her head and turning to leave.

“Five minutes,” she ordered as she left, “or we’ll start without you.” You collapsed back into the sofa, relief flooding your veins as you tried to calm your breathing. You hadn’t noticed the way her eyes had fixed on the dark lace half-hidden underneath the sofa before she left.

Thank you for reading, to everyone who asked to be added to the tag-list I think I've included everyone I can but some blogs I couldn't tag so apologies if that's yours.

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