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#feyre x fem!reader
tadpolesonalgae · 5 months
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Feysand x f!reader: All Wrapped in One[*]
A/N: This started as feyre x reader but of course it would end up becoming a poly fic
Warnings: oral (f! Receiving), daemati shenanigans
Word Count: 2,173
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Her hands wrap around your middle, soft lips pressing a greeting kiss to the side of your neck.
The scent of warm spices fill the cozy space, wreaths of evergreen stitched through with sequinned pine cones and glittering red baubles, lines of sparkling tinsel and tinted, warm fae lights glowing about the ceiling’s edge. Mince pies that had been dropped off a day prior by your mate’s sister sit concealed beneath a glass dome, crystallised to look like frost at the base, to keep them fresh as the day they were baked.
“Morning,” she murmurs, nosing at the sensitive skin, pressing a small trail of nips and licks gradually edging toward the neckline of one of her paint-flecked shirts. A thrill tingles down your spine, softening into her arms, quickly forgetting whatever task you had been preoccupying yourself with. “Morning,” you reply, tilting your head slightly to one side, allowing her more access to the pleasurable area.
“You’re up early,” you mumble, shifting to turn in her arms, wanting to see her in that soft sleepy state she’s often wrapped in during the initial hour of waking. She allows it, elegant hands remaining comfortably on your wait, keeping your chest flush to her own, adorned in a deep blue woollen piece, some tiny snowflakes stitched in beautiful silver thread with tiny beads at their centre to appear more festive.
Rosy lips pull into a smile, nose bumping your own, eyes warm with tender adoration. “The bed was cold,” she murmurs, “was wondering where you were.” Her hands pull you a little tighter, and you catch a hint of her scent, warmth fluttering between your thighs. You avert your eyes, hands settling on her shoulders, trying to distract her as a flush begins to rise across your skin. “We should wait until Rhys gets home,” you reason, back curving a little with need, the simple hint of her desire for you enough to have your body reacting with equal want.
She hums absently, eyes dipping to your mouth with interest, clearly not having heard you. Lightly calloused fingertips swipe experimentally across the plushness of your lower lip, eyes flicking to her blue-grey set that are slightly glazed. “Feyre…” you mumble, muffled from her playing with your mouth. “Did you hear me?” You ask, an embarrassed flush settling beneath your skin.
Her eyes clear, sparking with a wicked gleam that has your legs feeling like custard. The edges of her rosy lips quirk, and you feel yourself melting, heat liquefying between your thighs. “Rhys says it’s fine,” she murmurs over your mouth, hands sneaking down over the curve of your hind, cupping and squeezing with appreciation before dropping a little lower. “So long as he gets his share this evening and all tomorrow,” she finishes, smoothly lifting you up onto the counter, a flick of magic clearing the surface so she can perch you atop it, settling between your thighs. A soft sound of surprise spills from your mouth, fingers pressing into the plush wool over her shoulders as she gently pushes your thighs apart.
Of course, Rhys had decided to take a day off from his business as the High Lord, putting aside the work Feyre’s still in the process of learning how to do. Teeth push to the inside of your lip at the thought of having them both around for an entire day—and hopefully more since the festivities have already commenced.
Her mouth settles over yours eagerly, and a quiet moan escapes your chest, her hands now freely roaming across your body, dipping beneath the hem of the paint-splattered shirt. Goosebumps prickle your skin with sensitivity, keyed to her touch as she explores the soft curve of your stomach, slowly making her way higher. When she dips to your neck, you melt like a marshmallow in a hot mug of cocoa, dissolving beneath the tender touch of your mate.
“Feyre…” you moan softly, hands pawing at the thick wool keeping her concealed from you. “Shouldn’t we… We should go somewhere else for this,” you manage to get out between the pleasure of the hot kisses she’s splaying across your throat. She seems intent on taking you right there though, despite being atop a counter in the snugly lit kitchen. “Feyre…” you repeat, hands threading in her hair, legs spreading wider despite trying to pull her away.
“What’s wrong with here?” She asks, encouraging your legs to squeeze her tight, wanting to feel how much you want her. “It’s the kitchen,” you reason quietly, unable to quite look away from her heated blue-grey eyes. “We shouldn’t be doing this in here.” Her gaze pins you with desire, keeping you still as she slowly pushes the hem of her shirt up over your thighs, practically tempting you to try denying her. You tighten around nothing at the actions, feeling how arousal has no doubt begun seeping through your underwear already.
“I think this is the perfect place,” she murmurs, leaning closer, rosy lips brushing your own teasingly, and you’re struck by the desire to have them playing with your breasts, skilful tongue flicking over the peaks of your nipples. “The kitchen is where food gets prepared isn’t it?” She asks lowly, fingers dipping into the band of your underthings, snapping it against your hip, pulling lightly on the string so it drags against your needy clit, lips parting on a silent breath. “And I’m going to spend the day getting you all nice and ready for us to enjoy tonight,” she drawls softly, pushing you back onto the counter, so your spine is laying flat against the cool marble.
It knocks any and all remaining fight from your body, content to let her use and explore to her pleasure. You swallow heavily as she smiles from between your legs, eyes glinting with heat as she slowly drags the cotton up over your stomach to reveal your soaking underwear. The smile widens with hunger, her fingers settling at the apex of your thighs before lightly trailing down, until she reaches the soft dip. Applies a slight pressure, watching as your back arches from the surface, hips shifting as you attempt to squirm lower, to have her fingers inside of you, pulling the sweet, sugar-dusted noises from your lips.
“Do you want me?” She asks teasingly, playing idly with the band of your underwear, dragging the tips of her fingers over your sensitive skin. “Feyre…” you groan, need building to the point of aches between your legs. You don’t know what you’ll do if she’s set her mind on edging you all day. If she decides to keep you from cumming until Rhys gets home… You had been the one to insist on trying to wait.
“Please,” you whine, pushing your legs wider in desperate invitation, nails biting into the softness of your palms. “Want you so badly, please.” Her lips part in a smile, hunger gleaming in blue-grey eyes, lowering between your legs as she takes the band of your underwear in her teeth, fingers hooking over the strings at your hips to help as she drags them down. Starving hunger intensifies in her gaze when she lays sights on your dripping wet heat, tongue swiping out to soothe the sudden dryness of her mouth.
A low curse rasps from her chest before she’s leaning forward, dragging her tongue up your centre, relishing in your taste, memorising the arch of your spine, how happily you put your legs over her shoulders, pressing the cotton-socked soles of your feet lightly against her back, raising your hips. Moans start spilling freely from your lips, enjoying the wet heat of her mouth once it’s sealed over your cunt, tongue swirling and suckling at your aching clit, giving you the attention you’ve been craving ever since she put her hands on you earlier.
A quiet laugh flutters from her lips, and you manage enough strength to push up onto your forearms, weakly peering down at her. “Rhys told you to open wider,” she drawls, and wild heat bursts across your skin. Look away shyly as you push your thighs to settle further apart on your mate’s shoulders, dipping your head at the thought of him watching through feyre’s eyes. What an intimate view he has.
Talons gently graze down your flimsy mental walls, and your back arches as Rhys slips inside your head, able to watch from whichever perspective he’d like.
You’re making concentration rather difficult over here.
A pleasurable shiver spider-walks up your spine at his deep, honeyed voice, roughened with arousal. Teeth push into your lip, desperate to have them both with you.
Feyre said you told it was fine… You send back softly—a little shakily, not entirely used to speaking like this. A low laugh drags through your sensitive shields, talons leisurely gazing inside your mind.
She told me she’d be having you on the kitchen countertop, and to get done with work if I wanted a taste before she tires you out.
Between your thighs, Feyre shoots you a grin, seemingly aware of the conversation going on, and a small moan flutters from your chest. Heat flushes your skin, but you make your reply anyway.
I can’t say I disagree with her…
Within your mind, you feel something shift, as if able to feel the build of his own arousal, awareness spearing directly to you to provide more stimulation.
I really have my hands full between the two of you.
I bet you do, High Lord, Feyre drawls, having joined without you noticing. Her tongue presses at your entrance, and you tighten eagerly, urging her for more.
Rhys groans lowly, and you feel your vision going in and out of focus as his arousal becomes more intense in your mind, the two of them curling together with you, making you dizzy with pleasure. An image appears in your mind, Feyre’s fingers slipping inside you in the same moment and you feel yourself reaching the curve of your high, where you’ll soar a little higher before making the pleasurable free-fall.
The High Lord does indeed have his hands full, one steadily holding the arm of his chair, the other stroking himself firmly, a pearly bead of precum nestled at his tip.
What you wouldn’t give to be on your knees before him—flick your tongue over the moisture there.
Your lips part, back arching as he takes a little of your control, moving your hand to graze across the softness of your stomach, hundreds of tiny muscles fluttering beneath the feather-light touch. His name moans from your lips as he makes you move higher, slipping beneath the hem of the shirt, reaching up to palm your breast, and you know he’s taking in every sensation.
Breaths turn shallow, wild heat bursting through your lower abdomen as Feyre’s fingers touch a spot inside of you, seemingly having been searching for it. Lips part in sheer pleasure as you reach that peak, tipping over the edge while she suckles at your sensitive clit, Rhys directing both your hands to palm your breasts, playing with your nipples as he floods your mind with filthy memories, filling you with touches, and scents, and tastes, utterly overwhelming as you babble.
Toes curl at her back, helping press her deeper to your heat as she continues working you within an inch of your life, fingers grazing those spots teasingly, mouth sealed over your heat so she can focus on your clit, easing you down from the high.
You pant heavily, needing to recover from the sheer intensity they’d put you through, muscles beginning to relax after being pulled taut with pleasure.
There you go. So good for us, aren’t you?
Your back arches at the rough drag of Rhys’ voice within your sensitive mind, tongue swiping over your lower lip. Blue-grey eyes latch on your own as she rises from between your legs, and your mouth has already opened by the time she lays her own atop it. Arousal mixes between you, one of her hands sliding beneath your shirt to graze across your nipple, playing with the sensitive peak.
Better get home soon Rhys, Feyre drawls across the bond, lifting herself up onto the counter in a single swift movement, and you hear him sigh with what you can only imagine is exasperation. A smile spreads across your features at the intimate sound, more than happy to shuffle further up the counter to give her space to move. Licking your lips eagerly as she crawls to settle her thighs either side your head, pulling her underwear to the side.
You two really are something, aren’t you?
As if to prove him right, you hook your arms over her hips, pulling her down onto your mouth while still feeling him in your mind, his arousal already building despite just having been relieved.
Hurry back, you send across softly, lapping at her entrance.
Then you can deal with us.
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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks
feysand taglist: @girlmadeofavocados @zara-aliza08
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buckyysdoll · 9 months
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❥ ☾⋆。 — ❝ 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 ❞ — 𖦹 °✩˚. ❥ 𝒔𝒖𝒃𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 — ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶
— REQS CURRENTLY CLOSED —
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 ➪ 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧!𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬
𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑: 𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐫𝐞, 𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐚𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥, 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧, 𝐦𝐨𝐫, 𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚
𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍: 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲, 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭
𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋: 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬; {𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐝} -> 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚; 𝐥𝐨𝐤𝐢, 𝐦𝐜𝐮!𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫
𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 {𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎}
𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑: 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞; 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠! 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐞𝐫𝐚! 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 + 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞?
𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒: 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡 ❥ ; 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒: 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 ❥
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
❧ 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 ➪ 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐠𝐮𝐧;╰┈➤ — request rules |╰┈➤ — 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 | ❥ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃
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fever-fluff · 5 months
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Cat's Out of the Bag, Claws and All
Synopsis: You’re sick of Cassian and Rhysand sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong. And Azriel’s tendency to let things slide when it comes to himself isn’t helping. Word Count: 4k (not proof read)
“I just think you’re becoming a bit…”
“A bit what, Cass?” Azriel was not in the mood for this. Sitting in Rita’s, in a booth right to the back while his two brothers pestered him on his love life was not how he wanted to spend the night after he’d returned to Velaris. You had been absent from his bed when he’d finally made it back in the early hours of the morning. Though he wasn’t worried. You had duties to attend to for Rhys as one of his foreign relations advisors, normally starting as soon as you woke in order to enjoy your evenings free of work to spend with him- even if he was the one still doing paperwork.
“Don’t you think she’s a bit too… extreme?” Azriel snarled at Cass’ blatant insult to you. But he held his hands up in peace, Rhys cutting in before he could do more damage. “What we’re trying to say, Azriel, is that it seems like you aren’t yourself lately. You’ve been showing up more recently, which is not a bad thing and we’re happy to see more of you. But it’s the reason of these increased showings that has us worried.”
Azriel supposed it was true. He had been showing up more – to social events that is. He was always present when it was just their inner circle, but the regular accepting of invitations to social events that didn’t need his presence was a new thing, something that you had gently insisted on since the two of you had become so close.
He was never one for meaningless interactions and had been pushing himself outside of his comfort zone for quite some time now by giving in every time you looked at him, pleading with those eyes of yours. He could never quite say no when you asked, and begged him, so nicely. But he nodded all the same to the two that he understood what they were trying to say, “I guess. I honestly didn’t think it was such a big deal. It makes her happy.”
“That’s the thing Az. Sure, it makes her happy. But does it make you?” Cass was trying, really trying not to say the wrong words and have this blow up in his face. Azriel thought for a moment, of all the times he’d watch you interact with others he didn’t even know the name of, never mind their importance to your work, while you linked your arm around his and had him trail along. He was always uncomfortable in the light, always wanting to slink back to the shadows. But you were the opposite, always blooming so lovely in the presence of everyone you deigned to offer your time to. He sometimes wished he could coddle you away from all their adoring eyes and have you all to himself. But he would never cage you like that.
“Not particularly. I do it for her, but sometimes I would rather sit at home while she goes about her work.” His admission was quiet, feeling that if he said it too loud it would carry on the wind and into your ear as you slept.
“What we’re trying to say, brother, is that spending your life with someone is all about compromise. You need to tell her when you don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” Since when has Cassian ever been so wise and all-knowing? He’d bet five gold marks Nesta had whipped that piece of sense into him after he’d thrown another of her books out the window, insisting on ‘a lovely stroll through Velaris’ instead. Azriel knew he was just jealous of the new male protagonist in her recent book series, garnering all her attention throughout the day.
But Cassian’s words had stuck in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Had he been compromising on his comfort for your own? You’d never pressed the issue with him, but he supposed he’d not put much of a front up against it in the past, agreeing almost immediately every time you’d asked for his company.
“You know I respect her and the work she does” Rhys had ordered another round as they settled in for the night of drinking ahead, “she’s one of the best at her job that I’ve ever seen, placating Eris is a testament to that. But she is intense, she has to be. I don’t want that to jeopardise you or your happiness with her in any way in the future. Putting up boundaries with her now is the best way to do that.”
Azriel knew his brothers had always had his best interest in their hearts when it came to things like this. Rhys’ intervention between him and Elain on Solstice years ago was a testament to that. He would have been hurt in a way he would never have come back from. Elain and Lucien’s bond was one of the strongest he’d ever seen – even rivalling that of Rhys and Feyre’s once given the chance. Then he’d met you. You had courted him from the minute you’d met, and he’d preened under the attention he’d longer centuries for. You weren’t his mate; no bond had snapped for him in the time he’d gotten to know you. But he’d worked past that and found that someone choosing to be with him purely of their own volition made it much harder to doubt whether he was worthy of you or not.
So, as they drank on, Azriel let their words mill over in his mind, finally agreeing with their concerns, and decided tomorrow he’d tell you how he really felt about all the parties you were asking him to attend.
Waking up to a hungover Azriel was a rare sight, but an amusing one none the less. You’d gone to bed last night early after reading a note he’d left, saying Rhys and Cass had asked him to drinks to catch up after being away for three months. You were upset, naturally, as you hadn’t seen him either during that time. But Azriel was a people pleaser, and he’d accepted their invitation with no qualms. So instead of wallowing in self-pity of not spending the first night with him back falling asleep in his arms, you had invited Mor and Feyre over to take your mind off it.
They’d left soon after midnight, Feyre wanting to get back to Nyx seeing as his father would be away most of the night. But all those sour feelings had left the second you’d awoken curled into his strong, tanned arms this morning.
Trying to shift in his hold, you’d felt him curl further into you with a groan, wing casting over the two of you to block the ray of sun peering in between the curtains. You laughed, sending a small gush of magic to pull it closed, cutting the bright light off. His hum of appreciation vibrated against your neck while you reached to play with the tresses of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. It was getting long again – which you preferred on him – but he’d cut it soon now that he was home.
“Good morning, love” you’d never tire of the purr the name elicited from the Illyrian warrior beside you, and it rumbled lowly as he reached into your touches further. “How were drinks with Cass and Rhys?”
“Long. Too long. Wanted to come home to you.” his voice, gods his voice. You loved it, the deep tones in the morning unlike anything else you’d ever heard.
“Yeah? I should have realised I’d need to rescue you, nab you back to have you all to myself.” One thing you’d realised in pursuing the Shadowsinger was his need for directness. His heart had been torn so many times that it wouldn’t beat for anything else. And you’d been more than happy to provide.
The morning was slow, full of sweetness and adoration you’d both been missing in his absence. Neither of you had been pressed to rise before noon until your stomach had grumbled its dislike of the lack of food. And so, you’d found yourselves sat at the small table in front of the windows overlooking Velaris, coffee and pastries in hand.
Azriel had woken from his drunken haze, and appeared caught in his own world, more so than usual as you noticed him missing the handle of his mug, for the second time. “Something on your mind, my love.”
His sigh was enough to know you wouldn’t like what he had to say, and your mind wandered to unpleasant thoughts of Rhys already assigning him to another mission far from home. “I swear on all that is good if that High Lord of yours assigned something else to you last nigh-”
“He hasn’t. And don’t forget he’s your High Lord also.” Azriel hated when you spoke against any decisions made by his family, which was rare. You were on the same page as them, mostly. But there were some things you disagreed strongly on. Not always living in Velaris had given you another taste of the world, and it faired well for you in your work here. But there were times when it caused temporary rifts between you and your friends, and you weren’t inclined to change if it could be solved with words instead of blades. But when it involved Azriel, you found yourself more and more inclined to picking up something sharp and slicing it into anything that wanted to steal him from you.
“We were… talking. Last night. About a couple things.” Azriel was not as sweet with words as his brother, but to see him lose them completely was new altogether. Putting the pieces together from the non-existent puzzle he’d left for you, you felt your breath hitch slightly, “About us?”
“Yeah…” you didn’t like this Azriel. The unsure and unconfident kind. He had a silent strength you’d admired since the first time you’d met. You’d fallen in love with the male that wasn’t this, and you hated seeing him act like anything lesser than he was.
“Azriel. Whatever it is, please speak to me about it. I want to know.” You’d moved from your chair, coming to sit on the side of his as you laid your hand next to his, letting him decide whether or not he wanted to take it. But the warmth that encased yours was comfort enough to know it wasn’t something that would break the two of you.  
“I – don’t want to go to the – social events anymore.” Your brows pinched in confusion, where was this coming from? “Care to tell me why?”
“I’m not a fan of them. At all really. And I realised I was doing something that wasn’t making me happy. It made you happy, which I’m glad, but I can’t do it anymore. S’ too much.”
You watched Azriel retreat into himself at the admission, but you said nothing as you saw his gaze flicker over the room until it finally landed on you, searching for any anger, or hurt. “If you think I’m angry, I’m not. I understand what you mean, and I’m glad you could tell me.”
“You are?”
You huffed a laugh, “Yea, I am. So long as they’re your thoughts and not your brothers, right?” he nodded, “They are.”
“Okay, no more unnecessary social outings, for you at least. I’ll still have to attend them, considering.” He nodded again, “of course, I wouldn’t assume otherwise.”
You kissed him lightly as you made to get ready for the day, the conversation ending quicker then it began. These mornings were all you really had alone with him, both your professions taking up the rest of your days and swallowing the majority of the daylight- and twilight.
He’d winnowed soon after from the garden after kissing you goodbye, seeming lighter now that he’d voiced his discomfort, and you released a sigh you’d been holding since.
There was a party in three days, one you’d assumed Azriel would attend with you. But now that he’d expressed his feelings about them, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Instead, you’d prepare yourself for the emotional and verbal onslaught to come without the Shadowsinger by your side.
You hated these things. Really, really hated them. being in a room full of fae looking to raise their status, their family name in the long list of nobles was always a tiring feet to be around, but it was a necessary evil to your work. Mor stood beside you in all her ethereal glory, and the pair of you looked nothing more than astounding. Emerie was somewhere in the crowd of people, charming her way through each table she rounded. You were sometimes envious of the support she lends to Mor at these times, the two made a good pair in these places, balancing the other out that lead to progress you would only dream of making in such short time.
But it seemed tonight all you would find for yourself was concealed and blatant admissions of fae asking about your seemingly juicy availability.
“Ladies, it’s an honour to have received an invitation to such a grand celebration, pray tell” the male who’d sauntered his way over to the two of you leered in you direction, “has the lovely lady finally been freed from her cage? Should I thank the Shadowsinger for his decision to set you free from you confines that is the Court of Nightmares?” You blanched at his obvious attempt but concealed it under a smile too easy that it felt tight, “I believe you’ve been fed the wrong fruit from the vine my lord, Azriel and I are still quite the pair. I do hope you don’t mean to sully his name when he is not here to defend himself?” your sinister pout had the blood leeching from the males cheeks, and he stuttered himself into a stupor until he could find his feet to walk quickly away.
Sighing, you grabbed a fresh glass of wine, the last going sour from the interaction. Mor’s head leaned to yours unceremoniously, “Mother, that’s the fifth one in the last hour! How often does this happen?”
“Any time Azriel isn’t with me. When he’s accompanied me in the past it stopped a lot of this for the most part. But with my reputation among the courts here and abroad, anyone will try to get their claws into the person holding the most honey pots.” You were feeling the effect of it much sooner than ever before, the mental strain making your mind lag. You’d really hoped Azriel would have been here tonight, but you couldn’t lean on his strength every time.
“That’s why you’ve been bringing him along…” something seemed to click with her. “You know he hates these things. But you wanted him here for support, for you.” You nodded without hesitation, confused as to why her face seemed so stricken by the knowledge.
“There’s something I have to tell you” Mor’s tone was sullen. As she explained, you listened and felt anger wash over you in gulfs. Oh, you were going to murder someone, and soon.
The following weeks after Azriel had admitted his feelings to you were…odd, to say the least. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. you had been the same as ever to him, loving and oh so understanding when it came to his every need. You didn’t press him to attend the gatherings you had to, opting to inform him instead of your departure. While you were gone, he would catch up on all the paperwork he had waiting, and by the time you came home, his arms would be open and waiting for you to fall into.
But something was still off. He felt it in the way your shoulders slumped more than they usually would after socialising all night. It was still taxing to you, but you had always smiled after when he had attended them with you. Now, you barely had enough energy to lift yourself from his hold, falling straight to sleep once he’d guided you to bed.
Those nights, when you’re too tired to tell him about your day, and instead just curl up against his side, Azriel thinks about the moments of when you’d first met.
Your connection to him was almost instantaneous, you’d follow him everywhere you could. The idle chatter you started with had eventually turned to long and deep conversations, sweeping him along into the early hours of the morning.
Your first kiss, when you’d found him after a more draining mission. You’d helped him bathe, nursing the tension from his back and mind with loving but firm touches to his skin. He’d turned to you in a burst of confidence and captured your mouth with his before he had anytime to think himself out of it. You’d melted into him almost instantly, and the rest had been a blur of tangled limbs and sheets.
The weeks after had been full of secret touches and longing looks, until Cassian had caught the two of you in a heated kiss after venturing to the kitchen for some late night tea. Always the one known for having loose lips, the whole house had known before Azriel could’ve knocked him unconscious, but you had laughed and squeezed his hand in reassurance, letting him know that you didn’t mind being claimed by him, if he were okay with you claiming him. No, he didn’t mind that at all.
Gods, he had been in heaven ever since. Having someone to come home to, to reach for in the long family dinner when before he had to watch the mated couples around him stare adoringly at one another. He now had someone to call his own, and he was so glad it was you.
But you seemed to be getting worse as the weeks rolled on, and he couldn’t quite understand why, until Rhysand pulled him into his office.
“She’s taking a leave of absence from her position.” Azriel’s world spun on the wrong axis as he processed the words coming from his brother’s mouth.
“She hasn’t spoken to you about this?” he shook his head, mind spiralling as to why you’d do something like this. You loved your job, more than anything. It gave you a purpose, something to give back to the world.
Cassian ventured in not long after, seeming to already know what was going on, “you’re not communicating again. Azriel, this is gonna really affect your-”
“Affect his what, Cassian?”
The three of the bristled at the sharpness of your tone. Azriel cast his gaze over you. Your eyes seemed darkened by a tiredness that hadn’t been there until a few weeks ago. Even your posture, always one to hold your head high, looked slumped against Mor and Feyre, who stood behind you.
“I was just saying that you both should talk a bit more about-”
“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of comments on what me and my mate should talk about.”
Azriel stopped.
Everything stopped.
Your- your what?
You sighed, your admission seeming to go amiss amongst the thoughts swirling in you mind, but Azriel couldn’t comprehend how you’d said something like that so…so… casually.
“Azriel, Can I speak to Rhysand and Cassian – alone?” he didn’t feel himself answer, but Mor and Feyre seemed to understand and guided him into the hallway, where the three of them waited with baited breath to hear the onslaught you’d ensue. It wasn’t a secret, how much you detested some of the decisions they made in this court. Hels, you had even come to Eris’ defense more than once during the time of the alliance to put him on the Autumn throne. But this was different, and he knew it deep in his bones.
Mate. You’d called him your mate. But there was no bond. Nothing had snapped in all the time you had known each other. He loved you, infinitely. but that had been a choice you had both made in all that you had gone through, not for some fate woven between you.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in” it was Feyre, “I think we should sit down, get some tea while we wait until they’re finished.”  
So the three of them walked away from the voices on the other side of the door, and made for Feyre’s studio.
“You two need to butt out, now.” You were fuming, white hot rage consumed you as you looked to the grown males in front of you. But they weren’t acting like that, not in all the time you’d known them.
“You-you called Az your mate?”
Shit. Had you? Oh gods he was probably going insane with the thoughts in his head. No wonder he hadn’t answered you. How were you going to explain hiding something so profound from him for as long as you’d known each other.
“What of it.” you were snapping now. You don’t ever snap. That was your charm, ever the collected one, no matter what. But gods they had stuck their noses where it didn’t belong. And you detested it.
 The statement had seemed to shut the two of the up quite quickly, so you continued, happy for the lack of interruption. “I understand you’re looking out for Az; I do. But this is getting to the point where it’s ridiculous. Have you ever considered the weight in which Az holds your words? They’re like gospel to him.”
“We were just trying to help, nothing more.” You snorted as the High Lord’s words. Feyre and Mor have known of your secret since you met Azriel, but it seemed the two of them have truly kept it privy to your circle of three.
“Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong does more damage than good?” you were breaking now, the emotions you had welled up the past while cresting. “I wasn’t asking Azriel to those gatherings because I wanted him out of his comfort zone. Gods, I know he detests them.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because I needed him. It’s not easy listening to fae ask about your hand in marriage while your mate sits happily at home.”
You took a breath as the two said nothing more. “I came here to tell you that my leave was because I was overwhelmed. It’s a lot sometimes, even for me. And I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Az without interruption since we met. I was going to tell you both today, about… the predicament. But it seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag, claws and all.”
Gods, how were you going to explain this to him? You’ve kept him in the dark for months. He’ll never forgive you.
“We-acknowledge our misstep. We truly didn’t mean to hurt you, or Azriel. And for that I apologise, for us both.” Rhys’ face was sullen enough for your anger towards the two wash away, and you nodded. “Believe me, you’re not the one who’s hurt him.”
With nothing else to say, you made for the door. Cassian’s voice stopping you just as you reached for the handle, “Just, make sure you get him to listen. He’ll go into his head, and its not a good place.”
You nodded.
 “I know.”
There will be a Part II
1K notes · View notes
illyrian-dreamer · 8 months
Text
Our Girl – Part 4
Azriel x Cassian x fem reader angst
Summary: Deeming you unfit for a mission, the Inner Circle have betrayed your trust and shattered your life’s mission to avenge you sister. And the two males you love most were at the centre of it all.
Word count: 7.3k
Warnings: Smut [18+, minors DNI]
You stared at the gold invitation, cursive writing announcing Cresseida to be wed in a months time. And there was your name printed, Y/N and partners. You had scoffed when you first saw it – maybe in another life.
You were chewing your lip, lost in thought on whether to attend or not. You knew at the least, Rhys and Feyre would attend the wedding – that meant seeing them. And word would surely spread of your work at Spring Court once you got to chatting to other guests – that would reveal your location. 
“Whats bothering you, young spark?” Finbark asked from the kitchen, busy chopping vegetables as a pot of stew boiled behind him. He looked up briefly, spotting the invitation in your hand. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of not attending?” 
“I don't want to risk what I have here.”
“Y/N, everything you’ve worked for is already yours. Your home here, your work, even your privacy, no one can take that away from you now, not even a High Lord or Lady.”
“I know, you’re right. It’s just… I've so enjoyed my little bubble away from everything that happened. Seeing them… they made me feel so small Fin, so helpless. I don't know if I can stand going through that again.”
“So much has happened since then. Look at all you’ve done, all you’ve accomplished. Thousands of fae, gods, even the entire damn court is mending thanks to you. You were never small, and you have proven that to yourself over and over again.”
A wobbly smile jerked at your lips, tears pricking in your eyes. He wiped his hands, leaving the vegetables to come cup your face, brushing away your tears.
“You cannot lock yourself in Spring Court forever, sweetheart. Don't punish yourself for their mistakes, expand your horizons, celebrate with friends that are equally yours as they are theirs. And celebrate yourself, you deserve that even more.”
You reached for your uncle’s rippled hand, holding it tight. “Thank you, Finbark. You mean the world to me.”
“And you me, young spark.” 
So it was decided. You would attend the wedding, without any partners.
————
“Where are we going?” you called from Podie, Tamlin a few paces ahead on his own horse. He was leading you through a trail you weren't familiar with.
“For the umpteenth time Y/N, it’s a surprise.” He called back without turning his head. 
You let out an audible sigh, to which Tamlin chuckled. You did your best not to admire his ass as he straddled a horse – it helped neither of you how handsome Tamlin looked in his riding clothes. You pressed your heels to Podie, coming to trot beside him.
“You should know I hate surprises,” you sang.
“Even the good kind? What a shame,” Tamlin responded, clearly not letting up on where he was taking you. You poked your tongue out, earning another chuckle.
It had been several months since your first dinner with Tamlin, and you had fallen into a comfortable pattern with the High Lord. You enjoyed a regular drink or meal together when your work crossed paths, and he had even consulted you on advice for his court, which flattered you. His company was a consistent pleasure, and you treasured the friendship you had formed – the Gods knew you needed it.
You managed to bite your tongue for another twenty minutes, and just as you were about to pester him again, Tamlin spoke. “It’s just up this trail.”
Pulling the reins of his horse, Tamlin led you down a steep path, hidden much by overhanging trees and bushes, only to reveal a clearing.
No, not a clearing – a field, blossoming with rows of carefully planted pink flowers. And as you got closer, the size of the field was revealed, bordered by a low wooden fence. It was… a farm?
You drew in an audible breath as the scent of the flowers hit you. You widened your eyes at Tamlin, who was grinning at your shock. You dismounted Podie quickly, rushing to brace the fence as you took in the site with awe. 
“Wild Gernaium?” you choked, your eyes still wide. 
“The healing flower,” Tamlin nodded. “It took a while to learn how to farm them, months in fact, but Spring has Prythians best botanists.”
“And here I thought they could only grow in the wild,” you shook your head with disbelief. “Tamlin, these are so rare, how on earth you were able to farm this many?”
“Spring Court is a land that gives back, the soil here is rich of nutrients and the weather forgiving. It is of course only something we were able to do, thanks to your mission work to help recover the land. This is your accomplishment as much as it is theirs.”
Tears pricked in your eyes then. The amount of fae that could be helped with this crop – it was an overwhelming thought. 
“And they are for you, of course.”
You gaped at the High Lord, who laughed again. 
“For me?”
“Of course, for your work. Whatever you need – farmers to pick the flowers, a factory full of workers to grind and bottle the pigment – say the word and it’s yours.”
“Tamlin, I… I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Please, don’t. It’s not a thanks I deserve, I’m just… trying to look out for my people. Just as you do.”
“Well… you’ve done a Gods damned good job,” you said with raised brows, blowing out a loose breath at the extend of the farm. 
Tamlin threw his head back and laughed, and you grinned at his happiness. You reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Nice work, High Lord.”
Tamlin squeezed your hand back. “It wouldn't be without you.”
He pulled on your hand then, leading you through the flowers as you admired the plants up close. He explained that a factory could be built at the farms edge, attached with a pressing mill and grinders. Your heart fluttered with excitement, your work could extend past manual labour, you could now offer medicine and healing. There was a force brewing inside you, something unstoppable and good, something that lay dormant for centuries, finally unleashed and free.
You still held Tamlin’s hand as he lead you through the field, making your way to a lush hill that overlooked the farm. You sat together, Tamlin listening contently as you excitedly spoke through your ideas on how to harvest the medicine, noting that your small growing team of mission workers could also help to distribute throughout the court.
“How many aid workers have you recruited now?” Tamlin asked. 
“Seven, and we’re currently inducting Nyvya in the east. She’s a trained healer, so will be delighted to hear of the Gernaium.”
“That’s wonderful,” he smiled. 
“It is,” you said warmly, and it occurred to you that you owed Tamlin a truth. An idea you were planning to run by him at a much later time. But with the offer of the Gernaium, the access to this kind of healing, that changed things. “It is,” you repeated almost flatly, chewing at your lip as your eyes fell distant, dancing with thought.
Tamlin caught the movement, and he frowned slightly as he shifted from his lounging position. “What is it?”
Your heart rose in anticipation – you felt sheepish. So you stared at him, deciding on whether it was in fact the right time.
“You can say it – whatever it is,” he said gently, taking your hand. Your silence lead him to start guessing. “Are you leaving Spring?”
“No, no I–”
“Because you are free to come and go as you please. I know my past behaviour speaks for itself, but I would hate to think that you feel trapped or–”
You grabbed his shoulders then, squeezing the muscle underneath. “Tamlin, gods I know that.”
The action seemed to stun him, and his lips pressed into a thin line. You felt a slight twang of guilt for drawing out such a distinct shame in him. 
You took a deep breath, pulling your hands to your lap. “With the mission work expanding, along with my team, we have been able to help fae at the borders, some from Summer, even a few from Autumn.”
Tamlin nodded assuringly, a sign for you to continue. He didn't startle over the technicality of Spring members helping foreign fae – that was a good sign. 
“And it felt good to help them Tam, they were isolated, and just as vulnerable as some of those in Spring.”
“Of course,” he said softly.
You had to take a deep breath, and your eyes found the horizon beyond the rolling hills around you. 
“You know,” you spoke softly. “My ambitions to help and protect others, it has always existed beyond court borders.”
You could see Tamlin shift, before giving a slow nod. 
“After talking with my team, we believe our mission work could gain traction in other courts, should they be willing. We could share knowledge, resources too if it was agreed, and provide aid across Prythian without being conformed to borders.”
You forced your eyes to Tamlin then, grimacing at what you might find written on his face. But it was just as neutral, his eyes soft, his jaw chiselled and handsome and – damn him.
“This is not the way I wanted to propose this to you Tamlin, please know. Especially after your generosity with the Gernaium, I understand completely if you have grown them purely to aid your own subjects. But that doesn't stop the need for mission work across Prythian. I plan to gain the support from as many High Lords and Ladies as possible, and I would be honoured if that started with you.”
Tamlin eyed you with those sharp green eyes, the kind of look that made you shift under the weight of it. And after an insufferable silence, he spoke. 
“You are incredible.”
You blinked in shock, Tamlin’s lips pulling at your reaction. 
“Truly,” he smiled, grabbing your hand to kiss it. “I have never met anyone who was to see a need as great as this, and think to grow it beyond borders. Magic anchors a High Lord or Lady to their Court, it makes us territorial and protective, violent even. But you, this,” he said waving his hand to you, before sighing, contemplating how to say what he felt in words. “You are what this world needs.”
Your eyes welled before two fat tears rolled down your cheeks. “Tamlin,” you chocked, unable to think of anything else to say.
He shifted closer, brushing the tears away with his thumb as he cupped your face. “You have my support Y/N. Thank you for teaching me to be better.”
Emotion surged through you, as if flushing you from years of doubt and hate, replaced now with inspiration, kindness and good, honest love. And then your lips were on his. 
Taken aback, Tamlin caught himself on one strong arm as you held his face and kissed him. You pulled away, worried to have overstepped your boundaries. But then a strong hand laced around your waist, his other propping himself up as he leaned in, closing his mouth over yours, a sharp breath drawn as his nose brushed against your. Friendship, understanding, a blossoming love – how quickly Tamlin had welcomed you to a world capable of healing, of growth. 
Every fibre in your limbs begged to be closer to him, to bask in the vulnerability he had shown you, and you him. In only half a year, you had grown together, healed together, and learned to love one another. You did, you loved him, for whatever he was to you – a dear friend, a High Lord, it didn't matter. It was equal, and genuine, and you craved it in every way. 
Fuelled in by dizzy passion, you quickly straddled his lap, pulling at his broad shoulders to bring him further into you, letting him encompass your senses. 
Tamlin’s own hands slid across your back, moving up to your neck, gripping at the roots of your hair, the other grasped at the flesh where your thighs met your hips. 
He seemed to realise where this was heading, pulling away with a sharp breath through his nose. “Y/N–”
You shook your head, dismissing him immediately with another kiss, your tongue begging for entrance to his mouth. “Tamlin.” His name was a plea.
“Are you cer–?”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish his question, peppering kissed in between words. “I’ve–never–been–more–certain.”
A low growl rumbled from his chest, and goosebumps pricked at your skin as you felt it vibrate through to you. Your excitement peaked, it had been so long since you had shared yourself with another, and your core fluttered with anticipation as every fragment of you seemed to chant yes, yes, yes. 
Which is exactly what you moaned as Tamlin entered you, your skirts pulled high, his riding pants pulled low. You placed a flat palm on his chest, your eyes clenched shut as you stretched around his girth, your walls already throbbing as you slowly slid down. Tamlin let out a stifled growl, one laced with satisfaction and a lot of restraint. 
Strong arms hugged you then, and you began to writhe together, moving gently and sensually as you ground against each other. Chasing release was far beyond you, there was so much pleasure to be had in sharing your bodies, relishing in the trust you both had found in one another.
Tamlin did his best to keep a leash if his instincts, his beast form begging to be released and he grunted and growled when you moved your hips in a certain way, nipping at your neck and ear as claws now ran down your back. You ran your fingers through his hair, using it to guide his face to yours as you kissed him and fucked him how you pleased. His own hands moved to grip at your ass to do the same. 
“Y/N,” he breathed, his deep voice breaking, strained with pleasure. 
“Tamlin, gods, you feel–”
“So. Good,” he gritted, finishing your sentence. You leaned back, head thrown back as your hands found balance on his thighs as you rode him in the warm spring air. 
Pleasure found both of you again and again in that afternoon. You climaxed on his lap, and not twenty minutes later he was pushing into you again, your bare thighs spread on the lush green grass as he moved above you. You clung together, a writhing, sweaty mix of passion and pleasure until the sun began to set over the rolling hills. 
Tamlin reached for you, his fingers lacing with yours as you ate the last of the berries he had packed. He kissed your forehead before turning you to rest against his chest, not wanting you to miss the view. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your hair. 
Stroking his arms that were tightly wrapped at your waist, you swallowed, debating on what to say. But no, Tamlin deserved the truth, you must always choose truth. You sighed , saddened by what was churning through your head after such incredible sex.
“I’m thinking we need to discuss what this afternoon means.” 
You loved him, you did, but Tamlin was bound to his court, and your life called beyond it. It wouldn't work, no matter how much you cared for each other.
Tamlin knew this too. “What if,” he spoke softly, brushing your hair away from your neck so he could place a gentle kiss on it. “What if we enjoy this moment for what it is, just for today.”
You smiled, kissing his hands. “Tomorrow then.”
“Plenty of problems await,” he joked, and you laughed before settling further into him. You smiled cockily as you felt him harden against you. Tomorrow indeed.
————
One month later
Peering from the carriage window, your heart thundered in your ears, drowning out the clap of horses hooves as guests arrived at the summer estate, music floating gently from within.
Dawned in all colours, you watched guests gasp in awe at the beauty of the building. This was one of many of Tarquin’s estates - one you had never visited. It was an open, grecian style home, golden columns holding the impressive entrance carved with shimmering vines. Fae flocked in groups, sparkling wine already in their hands as they made their way to the gardens, no doubt where the service was being held. 
“Are you alright?” Tamlin asked, the velvet of his deep green suit brushing against your bare arm. 
“Uneasy to say the least,” you said thickly, your tongue stiff with nerves. “And you?”
Tamlin looked beyond the window, eyeing each of the guests. “One step at a time,” was his response as he squeezed your knee. 
————
The curtesy wine offered to you at the entrance was gone within the first few moments of arriving. You wouldn't make a fool of yourself here, but a little wine to take the edge off couldn't hurt. 
Tarquin stood proudly, wearing a fine turquoise suit detailed with gold thread, shaking hands as he welcomed guests. 
“Y/N,” he beamed, taking your hands and kissing each of your cheeks. “I’m honoured you came.”
“The pleasure is mine, Tarquin. Thank you for having me.”
“Nonsense, both Creseida and I might have forced you here if you had not come willingly.”
You laughed freely. “How is she?”
“A wreck of nerves,” he chuckled. 
“I’m sure she looks beautiful,” you laughed lightly back. 
“She does, just as you do,” he winked, raising your hands he still held to take in your dress. A silken, soft blue dress fell of your body, its back open as material gathered just before your rear. The dressmaker had done an incredible job, fitting style and colour alike. You had politely declined her suggestions of a sage green, a Spring Court signature. It was kind, but you were courtless for over a year now, and proud of it. Instead, you had asked for sky blue – as no one ruled the skies. 
Blushing, you let out another soft laugh. “You are too kind, High Lord.”
Tarquins eyes flashed behind you, catching Tamlin as he spoke with some familiars a few paces away. “Have you…?” he questioned, trailing off.
You smiled knowingly. “I’ve come alone. Tamlin and I shared a carriage, journeying from the same court. You remember of my work there?”
“Remember? Sweetheart, there is talk of your mission throughout my court. There are guests here who are very keen to meet you. And we will need to formally discuss your work, and give a proper thanks to the aid you have provided at the border.”
You were smiling wide now, shaking your head with gratitude. “I would like that too, but perhaps not here.”
Tarquin grinned. “No, perhaps not. Welcome, sweet Y/N, please enjoy the festivities, and accomodation.”
You smiled politely as Tamlin approached, exchanging a firm handshake before raising his brows at you. “Shall we head in?”
Nodding tightly, you let Tamlin guide you with a hand at the small of your back. At the very least, the warmth of his skin against yours was a small comfort. 
The estate was even more impressive the further you ventured, white marble and golden staircases twisting this way and that, leading to corridors of rooms, each door carved to perfection. These were the guest accomodations, and included your own for the evening. 
But the jewel of the home was its view, where a perfectly groomed garden now catered to almost a thousand fae, overlooking the crystal blue Adriatic, the waves beneath crashing the cliff quieted by the string quartet. It was an overwhelming beautiful home, and you were glad to be lost in a sea of guests. 
 A golden arch was set at the end of a the aisle, a High Priestess exchanging words with a groom you did not recognise. But you smiled – you were happy for Creseida. 
“An impressive turnout,” Tamlin muttered, sipping his wine as his green eyes turned sharp, scanning the crowd. You ignored the glances being cast your way, whether it was from your attendance with Tamlin, or Tamlin’s presence alone, you didn't care. What did these fools know of either of your stories to judge.
And you tried not to look, to not let your heart beat fast as you scoured for a rare set of wings amongst the finery of the wedding, telling yourself you wouldn’t turn your heel and run at the site of any siphons or shadows or night. But you were thankful to not find any. 
That was, until you felt them. Muscles jerking, goosebumps pricked your skin as your power began to tingle sharply, spreading across your body like a rash. Shit – you hadn't anticipated to lose your lid in such a way, your power had been so forgiving this past year. 
A small gap parted in the crowd of guests at the stairs of the estate, and the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were revealed. Arms loop, night curling around them in the fashion that impressed and threatened all at once. Rhysand shook hands with a nearby male, Feyre kissing the cheeks of a curtsying female. 
It shocked you, how quickly your spy instincts found you. As if in one of your many life-threatening missions, your senses narrowed, the noise in your brain focusing to immediate details – taking in only what you needed to survive, just as Azriel and Cassian had trained you. Your vision barrelled to the couple who still greeted others some distance away. Scanning behind them, you anticipated the remainder of your old family, and of course, your exes. 
Yet no one followed. Not even Mor. It seemed the High Lord and Lady had attended alone. It was strange – had things turned bad at the Court, that even the Morrigan had forgone a wedding?
Rhysand wore a handsome smile as he guided Feyre down the stairs to the garden, guests parting even further, bowing as they strode through. They were getting closer, and you ignored the clench of your heart as their scent filled your nose, before mixing with others. It was the smell of home.
No. it wasn't home. Not anymore, and not for a good while now. You hated that instinct, to curl into it, to let it welcome you, claiming you still. 
You glanced behind, conscious that they would find you standing with Tamlin. But he was no where to be seen, and you thanked him silently for the courtesy of having stepped away.
Rhysand and Feyre glided closer and closer, exchanging nods and accepting bows. And then they halted, violet eyes scanning before locking to yours, grey eyes shortly followed. And Rhys’s smile, the one that he used in the face of the public, it softened, his eyebrows twitching upwards almost unnoticeably. 
Feyre’s hand gripping at his arm tighter, and you could hear her heart fasten from where you stood. You almost resented how in-tune you were to them, these micro-behaviours. 
Glancing between them both, you followed the order of those next to you, lowering yourself to a polite curtsy. 
They couldn't reach you, not without drawing attention, not without the watchful eyes of hundreds of guests. So with a nod from Rhys, and a soft smile from Feyre, they continued on, finding their seats in the queues. 
————
Cresseida was the most beautiful bride you had ever seen. Golden vines were cuffed along her arms, as a silk gown as white as her hair trailed behind her as she walked the aisle, Tarquin proudly at her side. 
You smiled through your tears as she was married. You were happy for her– you were happy –you were… An unmarketable emotion filled you as you couldn’t help the run of tears that continued to pour, even after the ceremony ended. 
————
“And is it true that you were able to help the children at the border?” questioned one of Tarquin’s emissaries as she leaned in, raising her voice over the music. 
The party was in full swing, food had been served and hundreds of fae drank and danced, celebrating Creseida’s courtship, each of them eager to get even a glimpse at the bride and groom. 
“Yes, we were lucky to have an experienced healer join the mission, and she was already aiding some of the fae in Spring.”
The female smiled, and squeezed your arm. “On behalf of my court, we are grateful.”
“Not at all,” you smiled back. “Your authorities were notified, and from what I heard your own healers were already on their way. We were simply closer to that area, and had supplies to spare.”
It had been hours, and your company was still in high demand as endless Summer Court members were eager to meet you. Tarquin, it seemed, had been spreading you just as much praise as Tamlin. You had danced with many, exchanging jokes and stories, enjoying the festivities with some familiar faces and many new ones. 
It was a struggle to keep your eyes from averting, your instinct to find Rhys and Feyre in the crowd was loud and stubborn. Old habits, you supposed. 
Tamlin approached you then, having made himself scarce from your company for most of the evening, something you both had agreed to do. But you were comforted by his presence as he easily slid into the conversation, slipping a glass of fae wine into your hand without even asking. You smiled, giving his shoulder a thankful squeeze. 
There was an itchy, uneasy feeling that tugged at you, and you knew you were under watchful eyes. You found them, surrounded by their own acquaintances, and while Rhys masked his curiosity perfectly, Feyre’s stare bored into you from across the dance floor. 
Taking a large sip of wine, you let it warm you as you squared your shoulders. You would not cower, you would not shy away. And now was a better time than any.
So you strode directly to them, Feyre’s stare softening as Rhys pardoned himself from his conversation. Then, they were walking towards you to. 
You stopped a few paces shy from each other. Staring. It was…. awkward. 
But then Rhysand smiled. Warm and genuine and familiar. You hoped he didn't hear your silent curse to him. 
“You look well,” he said. 
You nodded, acknowledging the half-compliment, sensing their relief. No, you weren't that broken withered girl you were when you left. 
“How is Nyx?” The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them. You would have been more annoyed at yourself, but your care for that child was pure, and you knew they would never withhold him as currency. 
“He’s well, growing every day,” Feyre replied. “And walking all on his own.”
Your smile, be it small, was sincere. 
“He still… asks about you,” she added. 
Pain sliced through your heart then, and you weren't quick enough to hide it in your face. “Don’t,” you whispered, your voice strained. Gods, that didn't take long.
“I’m sorry,” Feyre said quickly, hands reaching out before she quickly drew them back in. “I didn't mean–“ she cut herself short, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”
You cast your eyes to the side, blinking away the sting of tears. “It’s alright.”
Rhysand watched you intently. “Perhaps we can all use some fresh air? I spotted a terrace, free from other guests.”
The choice was yours, you knew that. You had things you wanted to say, and you were sure they did to. You nodded, following their lead as you quickly cast a look backwards, Tamlin offering you a tight nod as you left the room.
————
“So, mission work in Spring?” Rhys asked, wine swirling in his hand as he leaned casually against a column, warm summer breeze surrounding the three of you as the party continued faintly below. 
You nodded, your arms crossed at your chest. 
“It’s very impressive,” Feyre added from where she sat, offering a genuine smile. 
You didn't respond, unsure of how much detail to reveal. Rhysand caught on, sighing slightly. 
“We didn't bring you here to interrogate you for detail, It’s only that your work and whereabouts is quickly becoming widespread knowledge. We thought it was best to acknowledge that we know it too.”
“And what of Cassian and Azriel?”
“We have held true to our bargain on that.” You believed him. 
There was an award silence, unasked questions looming. 
“Are you safe there?” Feyre asked quietly.
“Very much so.”
“And Tamlin is–”
“A friend,” you said quickly. 
“– respectful to you, was what I was going to ask,” Feyre said with a knowing look.
You sighed then, running a hand through your hair. “I didn't do it to hurt you,” you said, with a straight face. You owed her no allegiance, but, you were done hurting others, and her concern did no one any good. 
“I know,” Feyre acknowledged, with the grace of a High Lady, of someone who knew that the past was the past. She shook her head then, before adding. “We worry for you, that is all.”
“He’s changed.” You were shocked at how quickly those words left your mouth. 
It was Rhys who threw you a condescending look. You hated how small it made you feel. 
“Look, I appreciate your warning, but Tamlin has shown strides of growth, he has acknowledged his mistakes and is working endlessly to undo them. When was the last time you looked within yourselves?”
Rhys flashed his eyes at you with warning, bringing an arm to comfort his wife. “Careful,” he said plainly, but a flash of darkness passed through those violet eyes. 
Damn him. And damn Feyre too. “You didn’t so much as try to stop them,” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears as you focused on her. Gods damn it – you thought you were past this, past them. But it was as if a year away meant nothing, you were just as hurt as that night you left the Night Court. Feyre watched with a pain expression as your lip wobbled. “And you didn't so much as try to apologise,” you whispered, your voice moments away from breaking. 
Feyre’s eyes now glistened with the same tears. “You shut us out,” she countered, and you could see how much your own choices had wounded her.
“What choice did I have?” you asked, brushing away a stray tear. “You think I want to be this way? You think I wanted to cast myself out? You broke my trust and lied to me, alienating me from this family. And I was supposed to come to you for an apology?”
Feyre gulped guiltily, looking at the floor. Rhys watched you intensely, a concerned frown on his face. 
“You’re right,” Feyre said quietly, grey eyes now finding yours. “But you must know Y/N, I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since the day it happened. I thought it wise for Azriel and Cassian to want to protect you, but I realised very quickly how it was that kind of thinking that trapped me within warded walls,  and that had me fleeing my home all those years ago.”
You nodded, casting your eyes upwards to not let the tears stain your face yet again. “We can't keep doing this.”
“What’s that?” Rhys asked gently. 
“This,” you gulped, waving your hands between you. “These sorry confessions and apologies, it hurts us all.”
“Alright,” Rhys said neutrally. “But you acknowledge our apology?’
“Yes.”
“Do you forgive us?”
Your lips pressed tight as you grimaced. 
“That would be a no,” Rhys said sadly, his smile broken. Feyre couldn't force one if she wanted to. 
“I want us to move forward,” you offered instead. “There is no use in resentment. It may be that we’ll continue to cross paths, and it is important to me that you know I will not respond illy.”
“Of course,” Feyre nodded, smiling. 
A sharp pain throbbed at your temples then, the kind that came about when you had to keep your emotions and powers under tight strain. It was instinct to rub at your temples. 
“Can I heal that for you?” Rhys was now standing in front of you, his smile remained but his eyes – heavy, saddened. 
You blinked up at him before flicking your eyes to Feyre who waited eagerly for you to respond. Was this a test? Could it be, after all that had happened, you could consider them just…friends? You searched within yourself for the right answer, but nothing came about. It was just too soon. 
But there was no harm in letting Rhys work some of his magic. “Alright,” you replied, and you heard Feyre loose a breath. 
Rhysand’s hands cupped the side of your face, his fingers pressing to your temples as the familiar feeling of him slipping into your mind sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in you, something impossible to kill that was comforted by his touch. He was, after all, your High Lord of decades. He had been your home, your family, and maybe there was some part of that would always remain. It upset you how much you had to resist the urge to wrap your arms around his waist, to pull Feyre in too, to sob of how much you missed home, your family, how much you ached while you were apart. 
It was over as quickly as it began, Rhys slipping from your mind, leaving no trace of a headache behind. You hadn't clocked that you had closed your eyes, your lip quivering as your cheeks were now wet with tears. Rhys kept his hands on your face, brushing them away. 
“Y/N–,” he said softly, his face pained. You knew what he would say – come home, even if you hate us, come home. But you wouldn't give him a chance. 
“T-thank you,” you stammered, pulling away from Rhysand’s hold and fleeing the terrace, leaving the two to their shock. 
————
You were brushing away hot, fast tears as you fled the wedding, racing towards your guest room. 
Gods, what was wrong with you today? You hated feeling like this – an unstable, blubbering mess. Nothing had changed in a year, not really. You were still the same, broken and alone. It hurt just as much to see your family now. 
To hell with this wedding. You craved a sleep tonic and to be rid of this night. That was when Tamlin fell into side-step with you. 
“Are you hurt?” he asked simply, muttering the words to avoid drawing attention as you passed through the crowd. 
“No,” you managed to say, and you could have kissed him for playing into the nonchalance. He seemed to respect privacy, even when there was little to be found. 
“I’ll walk you to your rooms.”
“No, Tam, I’m fine, you should–”
“Nonsense,” he replied, and you knew you wouldn't shake him. So you walked to your room,  sniffing through your tears as you tried to calm the current brewing at your fingertips, Tamlin by your side.
You reached your quarters, a private corner in a long corridor or rooms. The door was carved in  unique artwork, familiar somehow, as if beckoning you to enter from within. 
“If you’re sure you’re alright,” he said with an unconvinced look. 
“I will be, Tam, thank you.” 
You gave his hand a quick squeeze, before turning the handle to the door. 
And made it two paces in, before shadows filled your vision. 
————
You swore as strong hands held your shoulders, blue siphons a blur as shadows cast around you. You fought on instinct, but it was impossible to shake Azriel’s grip. 
“What in Mothers name–?!” you cursed again. 
“You’re safe,” Azriel spoke with relief. Despite yourself, your skin ignited at the husk of his voice.
“Get your damn hands off me,” you gritted, taking in the room as the smog of shadows finally cleared. 
Cassian was between you and the door, where Tamlin still stood, completely stunned. The General’s hands quickly curled into fists.
No one moved, each of you just as shocked to see the other. They had come for you, yes, but you were certain Tamlin was an unpleasant surprise. 
“Fuck,” you ground out, almost rolling your eyes as you knew the strife that now awaited your friend. 
Azriel moved you behind him, as if you needed to be shielded, protected. “What are you doing here, traitor?”
“Let her go at once,” Tamlin growled, stepping into the room. 
You stepped out from behind Azriel, your mind reeling at the sight of the two Illyrians in you room. You hated them, but something in you churned - a yearning. It was easy to stamp down as a rage took over. 
“What are you doing here?” you countered.
Azriel gave you a piercing look, running his eyes down your body. There was love in that look, but a sternness too. 
“Answer me,” you ground out. 
Cassian was still facing Tamlin, his siphons so bright they radiated heat. “Did you hurt her?” he growled at Tamlin, a shaking rage consuming him. 
“You hunted me? Like a mare?” your voice was ice cold, colder than any of these males could ever hope to perfect. Your trust, betrayed, again. 
That voice snared their attention. Cassian casting a look back at you, desperate, like he wanted to give you all of his time, to never stop drinking in the sight of you. 
You prowled closer, fingers twitching as your power grew so strong zapping could be heard. “Rhys’s promise to me, the bargain. You broke it,” you spat.
“Y/N.” Cassian said your name, begging you. His pain cut through to you, your power dampening as a sick, sick part of you folded at his plea. Go to him, that part of you begged. 
The room was filled with a sharp coldness and breeze as Rhys and Feyre winnowed into your quarters, Feyre’s face one of shock, Rhys’s one of fury. 
“What in Gods name are you doing here?” he growled at his brothers. 
“You left us no choice,” Azriel seethed back at Rhys, his wing stopping you as you silently moved to join Tamlin. 
You glared at him. “Try that again,” you growled. 
Azriel’s eyes were dark, predatory, but his brows pulled with a softness only reserved for you. “I do not trust him.”
“And I do not trust you,” you spat back. 
“The promise,” Rhys growled, glaring between his brothers. 
“Y/N, we had no idea they had come,” Feyre spoke with a desperation that you had to believe her. 
“Leave. Now.” Rhys ordered, but the males ignored him, his power underwhelming in another court. 
Cassian’s brow pulled, his face truly broken as he spoke to you. “You left us. And joined him?”
You snapped at the accusation. “I joined no one, because I belong to no one. I pursued a life beyond you, and I am a free female. Free to roam wherever I please, and fuck whoever I want.”
You words landed their mark, because both Azriel and Cassian recoiled.
And then Cassian’s face turned grave, as he slowly faced Tamlin again. “You-you touched her?”
You cursed yourself for the pointed insult – you should have known it would put Tamlin in the firing line. To his defense, Tamlin held a high chin. 
“She is a free female. Nor you or I can rob her of that.”
Azriel snarled, and Cassian was on Tamlin in an instant. 
“Stop that! Get off him! You will not hurt him!” you cried, broken at the thought of Tamlin being hurt because of you. 
But before you could throw yourself at Cassian, night magic filled the space, pulling the males apart, commanding the room to its master. And you were surprised to see Feyre walking towards them, her palms outstretched, night pouring from her as her eyes now glowed with silver. 
“Sensless violence ends now, I don’t care about the circumstance.” 
What did she mean by that?
“Leave,” Cassian snarled at Tamlin, but Tamlin held his ground. 
“He is welcomed to stay so long as Y/N sees fit,” Feyre spoke coldly, forcing Cassian’s eyes back to her. Now that, was a High Lady. “I can not believe you two–“
“You weren't invited?” you interjected, untrusting of your exes as you scowled between them. 
Rhys shook his head from across the room. “We went as far to hide the papers.”
You gulped as you stared up at Azriel. “Pray tell, how you found me, then?”
Azriel wore no remorse as he said “Amren – she possessed an invite and–”
Exasperated sounds from each of you filled the room. Amren, of course. She was the only one to know to play games above Rhys and Feyre’s head, and cunning enough to pull it off. 
“And what is your plan, then?” you added coldly. “Drag me back to the Night Court, kicking and screaming?”
“No, of course not,” Cassian responded softly, stepping towards you, stopping as you retreated back. “We had to know that you were safe.”
You stared at him, the sorrow in his voice, the bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders sagged. He was broken. 
“You were not well when you left, Y/N. It’s been killing us not knowing how you are faring now,” Azriel added, his eyes soft, looking just as worn as his brother. You knew he sang silently to his shadows as they coiled in on themself, they would be begging to reach you. 
“Please, don't be angry,” Cassian begged, his eyes welling. “We’ll go, we’ll go now, it’s just–”
“We love you. We- we need you,” Azriel interjected, his own brow clenched with pain. 
Each of their words were a dagger to your heart, piercing it’s way through the walls you had built. 
“Stop that,” you whispered, your hand pressing against your chest to ease the pain. Were these your feelings, or theirs?
“It’s true,” Cassian continued. “You’re our girl. We'll do better, Y/N, we promise. Please.”
It was painful to hear, and you faltered slightly as your body jerked in pain. Something was breaking within you, crumpling around something else, something buried deep. 
“Please Y/N, come home.”
Your knees gave out as you let out an anguished cry, your heart tearing and swelling to the point where you thought you just might die. 
“Y/N!” Tamlin called in panic, but Azriel and Cassian were already at your sides, holding you, asking where it hurt. 
Palms braced on the floor, you tried to breath through laboured breaths as you finally felt what was concealed for so long. It was unmistakable, a tether of sun-lit rope, tying you to the males at either side of you. You felt it all – their fear, the instincts to take you far from this place, their overwhelming, unconditional love. 
And you hated it. 
“No,” you gasped, your hand finding your heart as you tried to calm its pounding.
Azriel glanced at Cassian, who gave a single nod in confirmation. Feyre gasped from where she stood. 
“What is it?” Tamlin panicked. “What’s going on?”
“No!” you repeated, standing quickly and backing away from the two males. It couldn't be – you were free, you had left…
They watched you with saddened eyes at the horror that beheld you. 
“The Mother is cruel,” Rhys tutted, lowering his head in sympathy.
“What in the gods-forsaken realms is going on?” Tamlin yelled.
“No, no, no, no! Please, no!” You clutched at the roots of your hair, your mind reeling as you begged to no one. You were bound to them, whether you liked it or not. An enslavement of kinds.
“It snapped,” Feyre answered to Tamlin without ever turning his way.
It was too much to bare – their instincts, your newly ignited ones, their love, your hate. Your brain scrambled for sense, fighting itself over and over as you shook at your knees. 
A final ‘no’ pushed past your lips before your body gave out, the world tipping and your vision darkening as strong hands caught you. 
You succumbed to the gods damned mating bond. 
-------
Part 5>>>
AN: Helllllllllo my lovelies! I am so so bloody excited to share this part with you! It was a rollercoaster to write, hope you held on tight for this angst-train! Always, always, ALWAYS want to hear your thoughts and feelings on where this story is heading, so please drop a comment anytime. And thank you endlessly for your support with this fic - it means the world. MWA!!
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thehighladywrites · 23 days
Text
— “You were flirting with me?”
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pairing: Azriel x fem!reader
summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls
warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,
amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗
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You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.
Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.
Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.
“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.
“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”
You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”
And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.
Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.
He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.
With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.
The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.
But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.
So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.
Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.
Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?
He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.
Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.
He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.
“Hey.”
You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?
“Yeah?”
He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.
“How have you been?”
You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.
“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”
Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.
Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.
“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”
A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.
Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.
”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”
Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.
"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.
"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.
"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.
"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.
Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.
“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.
“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.
“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.
You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”
Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”
Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.
“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.
"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.
Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.
As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.
You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.
Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.
"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”
Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.
“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.
“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”
Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”
Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.
You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”
Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”
You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”
Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”
The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?
“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.
Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”
Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”
Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”
Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”
Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,
“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”
Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”
Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”
Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.
You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.
As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.
You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.
Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.
His presence was undeniable.
Azriel was here.
Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.
"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.
"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.
"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.
Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows
"You look absolutely breathtaking."
Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.
You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.
”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”
Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."
A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.
"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."
Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.
As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.
Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."
Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.
Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”
You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.
"May I-"
"Yes."
It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.
His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.
You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.
Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.
Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.
“Are you okay?”
“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.
With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.
“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.
Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”
The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.
“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat
“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.
”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.
“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.
You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.
As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.
“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”
In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.
You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."
"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.
Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.
"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."
You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.
Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.
“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.
You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”
extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:
Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.
"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.
Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.
"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.
Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."
Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."
Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."
Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."
Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”
Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”
Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."
Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"
Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."
Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”
"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.
Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”
Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”
Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.
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sarawritestories · 3 months
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Unwavering Presence Chapter 1
Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)
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A/N: Hi, I am so excited to share this first part with you! I wanted to point out that I am following major plot points in the books, however, this is in the Reader's perspective so some of the interactions may not line up with the text exactly but the major plot points will be there.
Content warnings: Nightmares, Grief, mentions of death, mentions of trauma,
Summary: Y/N accompanies her twin sister to the Nigh Court after Rhysand crashed Feyre's wedding. Where the reader finds herself lost in the memories of under the mountain and finds herself in the company of a Hazel eyed stranger
Word Count: 3.1k
tags: @hellodarling1357
If you want to be added to the tag list for this series let me know!
“Hello, Feyre, Darling.”
My head whipped toward the end of the aisle; the High Lord of the Night Court was flicking an invisible piece of lint from his dark lined suit. My gaze moved to my sister who before his arrival, had looked like she was ready to bolt from Tamlin. Lucien’s casually stepped closer Feyre as the Violet Eyes meet my own, “Y/N.” His gaze lingered on my long sleeve pink tulle gown, “You look healthy.”
I straightened my posture and tried to hold the arrogant air that would make Nesta proud, “Rhysand,” His gaze lingered on my long sleeve pink tulle gown I responded, trying to move toward my sister, a firm hand keeps me in place causing me to still completely.
Tamlin’s voice roared in my ear, “What the fuck do you want, Rhysand?” The High Lord of the Spring gripped my arm too tightly and I clenched my jaw to prevent a wince.
Rhysand did not miss the little action and tucks his hand in his pockets, “I am here to collect Feyre and Y/N. Unless Feyre Darling wants to go back on her end on the bargain.
I grimace as the memory of Feyre making that bargain:
I couldn’t keep my body from trembling, I knew I had a fever and Feyre was trying to bring my temperature down by putting a soaked piece of her shirt and pressing it on her forehead. Amarantha had split up the challenges between the two of us.  Taking the first challenge, The Middengard Wyrm was more challenging than I had originally anticipated. When we were living in the human lands, I would occasionally go out hunting with her and she would teach me a few things and those skills came in handy when going up against the Wyrm and was able to slay the beast.
  It wasn’t until we were back in our cell that I was aware that I had the gaping wound. It only took a few days for the infection to seep into the wound and my fever spiking.  “You must hang on just a little bit, Lucien will come and help. You just have to hold it out for a little bit longer.”
Steps could be heard down the hall from our cell and the grating of our cell door creaked open and Rhysand stepped in. Feyre covered me with her small frame, “What do you want?”
The Violet eyed male simply ignored her question and made is way to my side. I was to weak to cower away his presence alone was intimidating. He reached out his hand about to touch my wound when it was whacked away by Feyre, “Do not touch her,” she said through gritted teeth. The High Lord gave my twin a playful smirk in response.
A groan of pain escaped my lips as a violent tremor tore through my body both Rhysand and Feyre gazes meet mine, “I’m only here to help.” Rhysand says.
“We don’t need your help.” Feyre spat, tucking me closer to my chest always the protector.
Rhysand’s face began to blur in and out of focus but in a brief moment of clarity I saw his face hold a cool indifference as he met my stare. “Would your sister agree with you, Feyre?” In a fever haze it sounded as though he said her name like a prayer. “She will die if you don’t act quickly. Make a bargain with me and she will be safe.”
Feyre took her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes met mine, I gave her what I hoped was a smile but was probably more of a grimace as a coughing fit erupted from chest. Feyre’s grip on me tightened as tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at Rhysand, “We were told not to make bargains with fae.”
I closed my eyes listening to his voice, “And yet you still made one with Amarantha. If it wasn’t clear she’s dying.”
Feyre shook her head, “Lucien will be here, and he can help us, I trust Tamlin.”
Rhysand sighed and I opened my eyes, my lids feeling heavy, and I used most of my energy to keep them on the former High Lord. “Lucien could get here tomorrow, or five days from now,
I gripped my sister’s hand and gave it a weak squeeze, “Feyre,” My voice cracked my throat and my mouth extremely dry from dehydration. “I trust him.” My gaze met Rhysand’s and I could have sworn there was a flicker of stars in his gaze I reached out my hand to him, he quirked his brow, but my hand met with Calloused ones. “I trust you,” A fit of coughing took over and there was a brief squeeze of my hand from his almost comforting.
 “What do you want?” Panic laced Feyre’s voice as my eyes began to flutter shut, loosening my grip on the High Lord’s hand. Rhy’s grips may have tightened but my mind was in a haze.
“I heal her, and you come and spend two weeks in the Night Court with me.”
“No,” Feyre said her voice strained. “I won’t do it.”
My eyes creak open slightly, as the feeling of soothing circles are brushed against my wrist. “Well, that’s a shame,” Rhysand released the grip on my wrist and rose.
Feyre shrieked and amplified my already pulsing headache. “No wait!” Feyre’s eyes meet my gaze tears are brimming, “Five days. I will give you five days, but my sister has to be with me.”
Rhysand scoffs, “Bargaining?” There was a pause, “10 days.”
Feyre countered, “one week.”
Rhysand hummed for a moment, “One week it is. You have a bargain.”
There was a flash and I slipped unconscious.
I met the stare of the High Lord of the Night Court, and he looked as though he was recalling that memory as well. As Tamlin snarled, “You cannot take them,” His grip on me tightening to the point of eliciting a small whimper that caused Lucien’s head whipping over to mine. A scolding look to his friend caused Tamlin to release me as I moved swiftly to my sister as I lace my fingers with hers.
“You want to wage a war on interfering with a bargain that Feyre willingly agreed to than by all means Tamlin be my guest.” He approached my twin and I and held out both of his hands with the palm. “Ladies, if you don’t mind.”
Feyre looked at me, fear extended to her features I gave her hand a comforting squeeze and a nod of my head that seemed to put her at ease. She reached out her free hand and I followed suit. Rhysand grips our hands and before Tamlin can make a beeline toward us, we were consumed by darkness and landed on a balcony and Rhysand ushered us inside to a large dining room area with dark red and black décor.
I looked back at the balcony ignoring Feyre’s bantering with the High Lord. Where we were, was on the side of the mountain and the scenery was breathtaking, the sun glinting off the snow on the mountain. The sun is beginning to set in the sky turning to hues of pink and purples painting the sky. I wish Feyre would take in the scene in the hopes that she would find inspiration to paint again.
Rhysand yelp of pain pulled me from the beautiful seen to see that he was rubbing the back of his head. Feyre has her second slipper in her hand, “Don’t you-“Rhysand growled as she threw the second slipper at him and the High Lord catches the slipper and smirks.
Feyre just scoffs, “Just take us to our room.” Tapping her now foot impatiently the way she crossed her arms I could have almost mistaken her for our eldest sister.
Rhysand’s lips formed a tight line. Crossing his arms in answer to hers, and I had to cough to cover up my laugh. The High Lord’s eyes twinkled with amusement and in a blink, it was back to normal, and he was scowling at my sister. “Follow me.”
Rhysand walked away not waiting to see if we were following him, I began to follow him and a small hand gripped mine. I paused and looked at Feyre her eyes were sunken, and her face had thinned since we came out of Under the Mountain, “I don’t like this.” Feyre whispered, “When we get home, I’m going to see if Tamlin can break the bargain.
I gave her a comforting squeeze giving her a warm smile fighting the disgust at her calling the Spring Court home. “Keep an open mind, Fey.” You paused, “He did save my life,” I looped my arm into hers, “Come on.” I dragged my sister into the hall and rushed to catch up to the High Lord who was leaning against a set of double doors.
“I figured the two of you would want to share a room.” Rhysand smiled and pushed off the door, “Does that work for you?”
I was shocked as I thought back to when we were taken to the manor in the spring court.
Feyre and I had our hands intertwined, the only thing preventing them from shaking, as we followed the High Lord of the Spring court through his manor. Tamlin, as we found out his name, was on our journey to the fae lands. The blonde fae male paused at one of the doors and opened them, “This is where room for either of you. Which one is up to you, of course.”
Feyre and I exchanged a look of pure panic, Feyre was the one to speak first, “Can’t we stay in the same room?”
Tamlin bristled, “You have spent the last few years in a room sharing a bed with your two other sisters and you still want to share a room?”
I glowered, “Well maybe, we’re in a strange place, with strangers and strange creatures, and maybe we seek comfort in each other’s company.”
Tamlin returned my glare and through gritted teeth, “You have two separate rooms, use them or don’t, I don’t care.” Tamlin walked past the two of us purposely bumping into my shoulder. “Dinner will be ready in a couple hours. Feel free to join.”
“Prick.” You muttered. As you and Feyre walked into one of the bedrooms.
“Y/N?” Feyre’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, bringing you back to the hall, Rhysand’s brows furrowed in what looked like concern. “Are you alright?”
I nod and give a smile, “I’m fine, are you okay with us staying together? I know that our ‘arrangement’ is different back in Spring.”
“You can call it home,” Feyre straightened, as if she realized who was standing and listening, “I’m fine with sharing a room.” She once again gripped my hand and dragged me to the room and slammed the door, not even muttering a goodnight to our host.
“My home is the cottage in the human lands, Feyre, considering,” I tuck my hair to reveal my round ear, “By their standards, I shouldn’t be here.  The only reason I’m here and tolerated is because of you.” Feyre flinched at the confession. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Look, I don’t want to fight. You asked me to stay with you and I will, but please let me adjust at my own pace.”
Feyre nodded and, in a flash, she grabbed you and embraced you in a hug, “I love you, Y/N,” you wrap her arms around your sister and squeeze. “Thank you, for everything.”
“Of course,” you pull away and flick her nose, “Alright let’s get you out of this hideous dress.” She laughed and nodded. As if on que the doors of the wardrobe opened and there were two-night outfits. One was in a beautiful violet that looked too small for me and one in a ruby red.  “Well, that’s convenient.” I mutter as I pull out the red shirt and pants, running the cool silk through my fingers. “I have to say,” Feyre blue eyes, met mine, “The Night Court has style.”
We changed into night outfits, and I grumbled over my exposed mid-drift and how they accentuated my curves but overall, they were comfortable. I took a glance at Feyre and my heart ached. I could see her ribs protruding, I knew she was having a hard time, but every time I would ask her about it, she would brush off my concern, tell me that others had it worse under the mountain. Tamlin could barely look at me most of the time, so I was never able to bring it up to her betrothed.  Lucien made himself scarce ever since Ianthe came to stay on the property, so no one was there to help me help her. Feyre smiled at me, “Shall we get some rest? It’s been a long day.”
I nodded and we crawled into bed and cuddled close together and fell asleep.
Tears were falling down my cheeks as I watched Amarantha raise my sister’s body off the ground and throw her down like a rag doll. I was ready to run up to her, but Lucien pinned me to his chest concealing me from Amarantha’s sight. Feyre’s mouth moved and the rage on the red haired fae’s flared in her eyes. Amarantha smirked, “Well you figured it out, but you failed to be specific of when I free you.” Rhysand lunged at Amarantha and with a flick of a wrist he was flung against the wall.
Crack
The tether to my other half had snapped, and Lucien gripped me tighter as I screamed, my sobs uncontrollable. Lucien was whispering in my ear, but I couldn’t discern what he was saying, past my screams. I didn’t even notice how he stilled as the power shifted, and Tamlin unleashing his full power on Amarantha. “Feyre,” you whimpered as Lucien returns to consoling you as Amarantha was torn to shreds. Lucien let me go as I crawled to my sister; her limp body unresponsive. “Feyre, wake up, please wake up.” I sobbed leaning over body sobbing into her should, “Come back to me. Please I can’t do this without you.”
I jolted awake from the nightmare of a memory that plagued me every night these past three months. Sweat coated hair clung to my forehead as I turned to find my sister sleeping peacefully beside me her now pointed ears, proof that she was alive. It should have been me. I thought to myself. I shook the thought, knowing I had to be brave for her. Knowing she needed me to be strong enough to help her through this. I silently slid off the bed and snuck out of the room, knowing full well I would not be able to fall back asleep I figured I would explore our home for the next week.
My feet pad across the carpet and wander through the hall, as far as décor goes the halls are bare. Though the walls are dark the fae lights create a comforting ambiance. A door creaks open that catches my gaze, and I press myself against the wall hoping the shadows conceal me though no one ever came out. Deeming it safe to peel myself from the wall I walked toward the open door and my eyes widened. I stepped into the room and was mesmerized by the books lining the walls and the fireplace sending warmth down my spine. A window showcased the night sky, the room was breathtaking, and I began tracing the tomes with my fingers.
Nesta and Elain sometimes would pull me aside and teach me how to read when we had spare time. Though I could never read books at the same rate they do. Some words were still hard, and my understanding of the words sometimes went amiss so by the time we lost our fortune I had given up on it entirely.  Though I always loved the idea of reading to get lost in a story and transported to far off places.
“Someone having a hard time sleeping?” The deep voice that could cause anyone’s toes to curl, caused me to jump and I spun to find the source of that voice. My eyes met Hazel ones and I came face to face with the most beautiful male I had ever encountered.
The male was tall my head barely met his chest, dark raven hair the same as Rhysand’s fell to his shoulders his face was one blessed by ancient gods his chiseled jaw line and sultry lips. He wore red jewels on his chest and atop his hands and I gaped as I noticed his wings were tucked tight to his body as he leaned against the door frame. His face showed concern. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” He spoke again. “Are you Feyre?”
I shook my head words lost on me, I shook my head and continued, “Afraid not, though I am her sister.” I picked up the book that was in my hands and put it back on the shelf, “I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t sleep and the door kind of opened on its own I was curious.”
The male raised his hand, “Rhys wants you both to feel comfortable while you’re here. You are more than welcome to be here.” He walks in deeper and faux whispers, “I technically shouldn’t be talking to you right now?”
You take a tentative step closer to him and faux whisper back “How come?”
He gives a wolfish grin, “He doesn’t want us to scare you away.”
I quirk a brow at him, since he made his presence known I’ve only felt this overwhelming comfort. “Are you someone I should be scared of?” I asked.
His hazel eyes glance at my night ware and it’s then that I notice that the color matches his rubies, interesting. His eyes linger on my exposed stomach that I wrap an arm around feigning a chill. His eyes meet mine noticing the shift and gives me a full smile showing his teeth, “Here? No. On the battlefield? Absolutely.”
I laugh, a sound I haven’t heard out of my mouth in a while. “I don’t think I’ll be on the battlefield anytime soon, so I’ll have to take your word for it.” You noticed how eyes are bright, “Well, it’s late and I don’t want to deter you from whatever it was you were doing.” I walk around him as he straightened, “It was nice meeting you.”
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He asked right as I reached the door. He turned to face me.
I shrug, “What keeps anyone from sleeping? Nightmares.” I give him a small nod, “Goodnight…”
“Cassian, my name is Cassian.”
“I’m Y/N. Sweet Dreams, Cassian.”
I leave and I could have sworn before I did, I heard a soft, “Sweet Dreams, Princess.” Before bolting back to my room to my twin.
Chapter 2
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utterlyotterlyx · 28 days
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Cassian and writing prompt #21, “Stay”
I’m desperate for more Cassian x Reader fics!! Thank you :)
Arsonist's Lullaby
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Cassian x Fem!Reader
Summary - Cassian thinks he knows best when he pushes you away, to protect you, but nothing prepared him for a threat on your life and no one can stop him from reaching you.
Warnings - angst, smut smut smut, fluffffffff, swearing, mentions of death
Word Count - 4.9k
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Sunlight speckled over your skin, its warm embrace curling around like Cassian once did, glittering its unwavering love across your paled surface, willing it back to life.
It wasn't out of the ordinary for you and Cassian to fight, but something about that fight felt different. More final in a way.
Cassian was always worrying over you, his mate, and what harm his title could potentially inflict upon you. He had been pushing you away, had been spending more time away from you; you knew why, you knew he was scared of being the reason anything happened to you but that didn't mean that he had to shut you out.
Your mate had done everything to prepare you for any potential attack, any risk to your life, you were a skilled fighter thanks to Cassian, even Azriel broke into a sweat sparring against you and Cassian smirked with pride at the image.
Weakness was not a part of your vocabulary, he knew that, but he still treated you as a fragile swirl of winter warmth and you weren't appreciating it.
Confronting Cassian had ensued an argument that would shatter any unmated couple, you had both hurled abusive words to one another, you had called him spineless and unwilling to fathom your ability to be able to care for yourself like you had during the war against Hybern when you had used your rare gift of Solakenisis to hurtle spheres of radiating flame across the battlefield. In return, Cassian had called you weak and pathetic, he had called you reckless and immature, and landed his final blow of calling you jealous of the other women in your circle for having the freedom and strength that you would never be able to wield.
Such an argument left you both panting, with raw throats and wet cheeks, with snarls of hatred sculpted to your usually attached lips.
Cassian had left you then, had left you alone in your shared home with a bag in his hand without a word of when he would return to you. It felt final. It felt damning.
So you decided to leave yourself, but instead of leaving to escape the too-large-for-yourself home to the sanctuary of the residence of your family, you chose to leave the city altogether and chose to not tell a soul, not even Rhys as he tapped on the walls of your iron clad mind once he had felt your essence float through his wards.
Sunlight continued to kiss your skin as you lay in the familiar comfort of your Day Court bed, in the room Helion had promised to always keep for you. Helion was your older brother, well half-brother, but he wouldn't let anyone mutter a word about your bastard heritage, your shared father had been quite the rake in his prime, and such actions birthed you, his bastard daughter with the power to harness the destructive powers of the sun.
It was baffling for you to comprehend why exactly Cassian was so worried for you when you had the ability to unleash heavenly fire across Prythian if you so wished it. That, and the fact that the bond had snapped for Cassian one evening in Day was why Rhys had lobbied for your presence in his court in the first place all those years ago, long before Amarantha.
Amarantha was intrigued by you, you were the only individual she wasn't able drain power from, your abilities were other-worldly, untouchable. So, she gave you an option, stay uninvolved and advise her or watch your brother perish before your eyes. You chose the former.
All you have is your fire. Use it.
Amarantha erupted into flames when she had killed Feyre, unable to free herself from the bindings you had chained around her limbs. She had screamed, gargled in fact as you stood behind her, hands at your sides and your mind ripping her apart from the inside out. Boiling and burning her alive. Fire danced through your hair, it burned brightly in your eyes, sunlight pulsed around you, a blinding thing, a warning to others.
Your power was not yours to gift, it was not for anyone else to yield but you, Helion knew as much and was stern as he told Tamlin that you were not to offer up any of your power to save the human girl in his arms.
That said human girl, Feyre, now your High Lady, had grown to be a very good friend of yours.
Rising from the depths of the cream silken sheets, you touched your rough cheeks, crying for hydration from the tears you had poured upon them for the eighth night in a row. The bond had gone cold by your own foolish wish, you had locked it off, you had refused any attempts of contact, and Helion had obliged and denied your presence in his court when Rhys and Cassian had reached to him, Helion had even gone as far as to plant a seed in Feyre's mind that you may be in Autumn since Eris was a good friend of yours despite his relationship with the Night Court.
Autumn was the one place they would have difficulty infiltrating, and Eris was more than happy to play along if it gave you some peace.
Eight days was the longest you had gone without Cassian, without anything flowing through the bond, without seeing him, without being wrapped up in his body as he fucked you relentlessly into oblivion.
It was exhausting.
The Day Court sun brought some life back to you, cascading her glow upon you and enriching your skin with her gentle loving shimmer. She had always doted on you, the energy she bestowed upon you was unmatched, and you often found her watchful eye following you wherever you walked, whispering to you always.
The sun had chosen you, her vessel, to right the wrongs of the world, and Cassian always chose to look over that fact.
Your home court was known for its elaborate fashion, the ornate gold jewellery and accessories that you had found wrapped around your hands and feet, and the halo crown caressing the back of your head. The dress you had worn held a solid gold bodice of intricate swirls that allowed your skin to peek out beneath it, that attached to a pale shimmering skirt, and golden chains draped across your collarbones and fell down your spine. It moulded to your figure perfectly.
You were not weak or jealous, or reckless, you were a child of the sun, a strong and formidable creature. No one, not even Cassian, could take that from you.
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Cassian had been cursed out by every member of your shared family when he had arrived at the House of Wind looking like shit with a bag between his fingers.
He thought he was right. He thought he was protecting you. But after having his ass handed to him by Azriel and Rhys, and Feyre and Mor's stern words, and Amren's glare of pure disgust, Cassian knew he had fucked up.
Cassian had raced back to your shared home, one that was a harmonious myriad of light and dark, of sun and night, and found it solemn and empty. He had raced up the stairs, he had looked in your drawers and saw everything still in place, then he had headed to your vanity and inhaled sharply when he saw that the small picture of your mother had gone, which meant you had too.
Screaming down the bond, Cassian was met with a stone cold wall of rippling silence, and he broke. Cassian fell to his knees holding one of your dressed between his fingers, it still smelt of you, of hot salted ocean breezes and fresh roses, and he cried.
He had spent the next week trying to locate you, being turned away from every court, even Helion had no idea where you had gone, but had told Feyre that you may have gone to Eris, your friend, as you knew that would be the one place he couldn't get to you.
Rhys had demanded entry to Autumn, which Eris had refused with a sly smirk on the boarder, his hounds circling through his legs. Eris was enjoying Cassian's pain far too much and had the gall to quip, "She doesn't want to see you, Lord of Bloodshed. Perhaps you listen to her this time, considering you have a habit of refusing to."
A spit in the face of his love for you. Cassian had gone to step over the threshold only to be held back by Azriel, Eris' hounds were snarling and barking at the three Illyrians trying to enter their home, "You would risk war?"
Eris grinned, fixing the lapels of his jacket, "A war would take y/n from you forever. I don't think you'd be that stupid," he turned from them, whistling for his hounds to follow, "As long as she's here, she will be fine. I suggest you go home and mull over the ways in which you have failed her."
Missions were the only thing that would give Cassian the opportunity to relent his frustrations, his force was sickening, he broke the bones of their enemies with his bare hands, he ripped them apart with his own self-loathing fury. Azriel had never seen Cassian in such a state, he blamed himself for your disappearance, and rightfully so, any of them could have told him that you were capable of destroying him if needed, let alone anyone else. Though, Azriel didn't blame Cassian for trying to protect you, for believing that your bond could bring harm to you, Azriel would think the same if he were in Cassian's shoes.
"Cass, we do need at least one of them alive," Azriel followed his brother on his war path, he watched him in concern as he drove his sword through the hearts of many soldiers.
Bodies lay broken around them, blood coated the ground and walls, it was a monstrous sight to take in. Cassian's hair lay unbound on his shoulders, matted with sweat that coated his brow, his wings were tense as he swung, they shuddered in fear of his force.
Cassian grunted to Azriel, whipping his air away from his face and facing him with a dead glare behind his hazel eyes, "Fine," he smirked and sheathed his sword, motioning to Azriel to approach the singular male who was moments away from death.
Blood coated his lips, his eyes had dimmed, but he still wore evil like a brooch on his heart, he spat the contents of his bloody mouth at Azriel as he bent down to grasp him by the collar, "You're going to tell me of your plans to attack Velaris, you're going to tell me and I may spare you."
The male chuckled low and sinister, hatred blazed in his faltering eyes and he smiled, toothy, but blood coated the once yellow tinged teeth. There wasn't much time to get answers, "We're already moving, you're too late."
Azriel cocked his head to the side, "I'm going to need more than that. I can make this much more painful for you," Truthteller dragged across the males bobbing throat, he knew of the Shadowsinger, he had heard to rumours of his ruthless torture.
The males gaze flickered to Cassian who stood behind Azriel, leaning against the bloodied wall looking disinterested, "You can thank him for that," his finger twitched in Cassian's direction, "Do you really believe that your High Lord is the protector of your court?" The male leaned forward, "Your greatest protector, the most powerful being in Prythian, is no longer being hidden by your court. She is elsewhere, we have been watching her, preparing for the perfect moment to snatch her away. With her power in our grasp, we will be unstoppable."
Cassian felt panic settle in his soul as the male continued, bitterly laughing as he spoke, "Y/N. A child of the sun, back in her home court, ready to follow her destiny. You can thank your Lord of Bloodshed for accelerating our plans."
Azriel turned to Cassian with wide eyes, eyes that Cassian matched. It was never about attacking Velaris, it was about capturing you, using your power for their own tyrannical plans, bleeding you dry and taking your power from your body.
"Cass-"
But Cassian was already moving, turning on his heels and pelting from the room as fast as he could, flexing his wings to ready them for flight whilst calling out to Rhys to meet them at the Day Court Palace as fast as possible.
Cassian flew as fast as he could, he would never be able to forgive himself if anyone harmed you, especially when he had made it so easy for them to reach you. He had to find you, he had to stop it, he had to save you.
Helion growled at the intrusion of the three Illyrians entering his personal library that was three times the size of the library at the House of Wind, but his snarl faltered when he saw the frenzied eyes and the blood coating Cassian and Azriel's armour. He rose from his seat quickly, not having a moment to say anything when Cassian paced over to him, "I don't have time for pleasantries. She's in danger. Where is she?"
Helion noted the fire in Cassian's eyes, the way his siphons glowered dangerously in awaiting answer, "How do I know that this isn't some elaborate ruse to take her?"
Azriel stepped forward, voice low in warning, noticing Cassian's fists clench and his chest seethe with anger, "Our enemies have been hunting her, they wish to drain her power and unleash it on the world. We need to find her."
Helion's language shifted, he faced Cassian with equal fury, going toe to toe with the Lord of Bloodshed and bit, "If anything happens to my sister, I will end you."
"I will end myself before you ever could, now tell me where she is."
A wild wind bellowed through the open arches, enough for Helion to wince at the forceful impact. That wind swarmed through the palace, it was wild and cold, it was a warning from the world to run and hide. Helion fought against it toward the balcony, his locks whipping around in the tornado that had encased his court, his eyes focused on the forest in the distance and he pointed, "She's in there."
Then, from nowhere, bright thunderous light quaked from the sky as large spheres of sun fire raced past them and slammed into the ground below, where you were. The trees lurched with the impact, splintering and sprouting in differing directions, wailing at their demise, and the ocean dragged itself back to a safe distance. Fire rained from the sky, but the wind was too forceful for any of them to fly to you.
"RHYS!" Cassian bellowed to his brother, their eyes locked and he nodded, catching Cassian with a free hand with Azriel in the other, winnowing them to where they needed to be.
The scene was sickening. Trunks lay cracked and broken, simmering fire trickled along the earth that rumbled beneath their feet with each impact of fire that slammed against the ground. They couldn't see two feet in front of them let alone much else due to the heavenly light that emitted from you, but Cassian felt you, for the first time in what felt like centuries, he felt you.
Cassian felt your fury course down the bond, it was mixed with fear and guilt, and it lead them straight to you. In return, he threw all of his love down the bond as another sphere of your fire hurtled down through the sky, and he swore he could have heard you gasp and pause.
The light dimmed, and their eyes adjusted to see you in the clearing metres ahead from them, surrounded by bodies, some bloody and other burnt beyond recognition. A dagger was glued between your fingers and you let our a shaky exhale, like you didn't realise you had been holding your breath all that time.
The clearing looked more like a crater, a once plush area of wildlife that you sought comfort in was now a crater of ash and broken souls, and Cassian watched your cracked eyes survey your surroundings, hating what you had done.
Cassian rushed to you, slamming his body into yours and cradling you into his chest, "Are you alright?" He pulled away and cupped your face in his hands gingerly, wiping away the ash that had settled on your cheeks, "Speak to me, my love."
"I'm okay," your voice was hoarse and quiet, your eyes connected and he saw the tears pool in them along with the devastation that coursed through the bond, "I'm sorry. You were right-"
"Don't apologise," he told you, wiping away the tears that spilled down your ashen cheeks, leaving streaks of sunlight flowing down them, "I was wrong, so wrong. You don't need anyone to protect you, you aren't weak or jealous, you are strong and more capable of protecting yourself more than anyone I know. You are your greatest protector, not me. I'm so sorry, I was just trying to keep you tucked away and safe. But you've always meant to shine, I never should have tried to stop it."
"You were trying to keep me safe, Cass," your voice trailed off and you examined the scene, paying no notice to Rhys and Azriel at the edge of your crater, "What have I done?"
Cassian's fingers ran through your hair, "You did what you had to, alright? It's okay. If I hadn't pushed you away then none of this would have happened. I'm so stupid. I'm so sorry."
Your hands lay on his chest and you sighed, "Take me home, Cass. I can't be here."
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Cassian had doted on you the moment you were back in his arms, he ordered Rhys to winnow you both back to your shared home whilst Azriel stayed to assure Helion that you were fine and in need of some much needed time with your mate.
The searing heat of the tub wound around your muscles and soothed the ache in your soul. The water was far too hot for Cassian to climb into, so he instead sat on the edge of the tub and washed your hair, picking apart the knots within it and allowed his large hands to unwind the bundled nerves in your shoulders.
When the water had gone cold, he lifted you from the tub and dried your limbs, he brushed your damp hair and dressed you in a thin nightgown, and not once did he stop apologising to you, not once did his lips stop peppering kisses along your shoulders and forehead.
You stood before him, needing much more than just sweet kisses and kind words.
"Tell me what you need," he had said when he saw the look in your eyes, one that radiated doubt but also desire.
Cassian stood still in front of you, his hands resting on your hips and you stood on your tiptoes to capture his lips in a searing kiss, one that he hummed into, allowing his hand to cradle the back of your head as he deepened it. Cassian had missed your lips too much.
Against his own building desire, Cassian gently pushed you backward, "My love, you're hurting," he didn't want to take advantage of your vulnerability in that moment.
"Do you love me?"
Cassian frowned, and let out a disbelieving scoff, "More than anything."
"Good," you pressed your lips to his again, pulling back slightly and peering at him through your lashes, "Because I need you to fuck me like you don't."
His cock twinged at the words and he closed his eyes, opening them to see you push the straps of your nightgown over your shoulders, revealing your peaked nipples to him as it fell down your body. Cassian knew why you needed it, you needed to feel something other than the pain of destroying one of your most sacred places, you needed him in the most passionate way possible.
"Are you sure?" Fire spread through him when you used his forearms as leverage to capture his lips on yours again, in a starving embrace, one that sent blood pooling to his cock that throbbed against his leathers in knowing that where it needed to be was only inches away.
Cassian walked you backwards until your legs hit the back of your bed and you lowered yourself onto the mattress. Fierce lust was laced within you, you propped you heels up on the frame and spread your legs to your mate, that feral animalistic need to be rutted filling the room illuminated by flickering candlelight.
Wasting no time, Cassian ripped his leathers from his body and fell to his knees before you, his muscles contracted in the golden hue of the room, he grasped your thighs and dragged you toward him, his warmth breath fanning over your core as he placed kisses down your stomach and in the creases of your thighs, making you suck in a shaky breath as he placed a final peck to the bundle of nerve that were aching for his tongue.
"I've missed the taste of you so much, my love," the movement of his lips on your skin made electricity course through you, the stubble of his beard scratching against your inner thighs.
Whining, your back arched when he drug his tongue up your slit, the groan emitting from his throat vibrating against you threatening to blind all of your senses. He smiled against your core, winding his tongue around your clit and sucking on the nerves, his fingers dug into your thighs to stop your squirming as his pace became relentless. Sucking, biting, and swirling his tongue in the ways he knew made you turn into a mewling mess, he pumped his cock in his hand to relieve the building pressure, to allow him to focus on you, his beautiful moaning mess of a mate completely at his mercy.
Cassian lapped up your taste, groaning in pleasure at it as he pumped his digits in you, pressing down on your stomach with his free hand to make that rough spot inside of you meet every brush of his touch. He noted the hitch of your breath and the way your fingers found his hair, pushing his face into your cunt, telling him how close you were from falling from grace. Cassian kept his pace, taking your throbbing clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it as his fingers hit that spot again and again until you were crying out his name and tensing around his fingers.
Your mate continued his tirade, pulling two more orgasms from your lips before his pace slowed and he removed his fingers from you. Humming, he sucked your juices from one of his fingers and then slid the other into your mouth as he hovered over you, his cock ready and weeping on your thigh.
He threw your clenched legs apart and nestled between them, "You can thank me tomorrow," he told you, no doubt alluding to the fact that your lips hadn't found his cock yet, "I just need you."
Without warning, he pushed into you, and his delicious cock stretched you out, you threw your head back and moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he lowered himself and captured your lips hungrily against his own, transferring the taste of you to your tongue. He moved, slowly at first, and you met his hips in the rolling rhythm he had created, then he became more desperate and picked up his pace, biting and sucking at the skin on your neck, no doubt marking it for everyone to see once he would allow you out of your bed after fucking you on every surface possible.
Cassian groaned into the crook of your neck, his fingers held a bruising grip on your hip as he slammed into you, the tip of his cock smacking against that rough spot inside of you, "I love you, y/n. I love you so much," his brows were furrowed, like he knew how much force he was using and had to tell you how much he loved you just in case he was taking it too far.
Panting, you replied, "I love you too, Cass. I love you," you were cut off by your own moan, your hands flew above your head encased in his own, he gripped the sheets and snarled and he pulled out of you and flipped you over, pushing your head into the mattress and growling as the tip of his cock teased your entrance again, and you took it in it's entirety, groaning so deliciously that it took everything within Cassian to not explode at the sight of your ass bouncing on his cock.
Cassian bent down, his fingers delicately wrapped around your throat and pulled you upright, his fingers stayed there, restricting your oxygen in the best way imaginable as he pushed up into you, sucking and nibbling on your earlobes and neck between his own rough moans of pleasure.
As long as you had Cassian, there was nothing else you'd ever need to feel fulfilled. He was everything, your life and death, your shoulder to sob upon, your cock to cum on. Cassian was yours, his soul belonged to you just like every fibre of your existence hung onto him.
"Stay. Don't ever leave me again," his voice was full of emotion in your ear as he fucked you into the whispering depths of the ocean that was your bond.
Cassian's free hand twisted at your nipples before travelling downward, resting atop your stomach and pushing your hips backward to meet his relentless thrusts, and you felt the familiar pressure building there, holding on wasn't possible when his fingers travelling further, finding your clit and tracing slow circles into the nerves, smirking into your shoulder as high pitched cries flowed from your lips.
"I'll never leave you," you were breathless, and you hardly felt him pull out from you as he pushed you onto your back again, throwing your leg over his arm and pounding into you until he began to falter. His lips found your nipple again, sucking and biting on the sensitive nub of skin, and his fingers continued to flicker over your clit, "Cass, please. I'm going to-"
"So am I," he groaned, pressing his forehead to yours, "Cum for me, my love," Cassian pressed his lips to yours, capturing your orgasm in his mouth before releasing your lips to allow you to scream his name as that searing white heat consumed your entire body.
Cassian could have swore you began to glow as it consumed you, and you basked in that warmth, he basked in the clench of your walls quivering around his cock and milking him until there was nothing left to fill you with. Your mate fucked you through both of your highs, groaning your name and growling as he filled you, panting as he slowed his pace and lay on top of you.
In the comfortable silence, you found him staring at you with wonder, he hovered over you propped up on his elbows, tracing his fingers along your glistening skin, "What?"
Cassian smiled, "I want a baby," he admitted, "I can't stop myself from being scared about losing you, a part of me will always be terrified. But, what I can stop is myself holding back in the life I dream of with you," his hazel eyes scoured your face, and peace settled between you, "I want a product of us, of our love and strength. I want a family with you, a big family full of love and wonder and adventure where you have to tell me off after our fourth for wanting another," you giggled tearfully beneath him and he wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb, "The idea of losing you is my greatest fear, y/n. I don't want anything to happen to us, and I don't want us to be left with nothing if-"
"Cass," you cooed to him, pulling him from the devastating thoughts in his mind, "I want all of that too, I want the picket fence and enough children to drive Az insane. Enough cousins for Nyx for them all to grow up in their own inner circle and replace us all one day. I want a life with you void of sadness. I want you, forever, even when our day comes to leave this reality, I will want you and I will guide you to the heavens so that we may live in an eternity of love waiting for everyone we adore to join us."
Cassian pulled you up the bed and encased you in his arms, draping a thin sheet over your forms and running his fingers through your hair whilst you kissed his chest softly, "You found me in darkness and we made our own light. We burn brighter than anything that may await us," he kissed your forehead and gazed into your eyes, a smirk worked its way onto his face, "The sun has nothing on you, you know."
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Authors Note
Daddy Casssss
Hope you love it! x
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m4tthewmurd0ck · 1 month
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IN EVERY UNIVERSE
── Azriel x Fem!Reader
(i try to be as non descriptive as possible but do use she / her, and mention reader being shorter than all the guys.)
CHAPTER ── INTRODUCTION
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Ever since you were little, books have been your escape. Whether it was needing to get away from a bad day at school or an immature fight with a friend when you were a kid, or a rough day at work as you got older, reading allowed you to temporarily forget all of that.
You imagine what the characters might look like, you dream up scenarios for them that don’t happen in the books. And like so many others who do the exact same thing, you can’t help but wish characters were real so that they could sweep you off your feet. Ugh, what you wouldn’t give to have a certain one-armed super soldier call you doll.
You thought the MCU was where you wanted to exist the most… and then you were introduced to ACOTAR.
It didn’t take long at all for you to become another one of the many girls to fall for Azriel. You dreamt of what he might look like. And of course, knew he’d fall in love with you. Would you guys follow the enemies-to-lovers trope? Childhood best friends turned significant others? Or would it be a love-at-first sight moment for the shadowsinger, who would do everything in his power to get you to notice him? The answer depended on your mood, of course.
As much as you loved to fantasize, you also knew you had to be realistic. Azriel didn’t actually exist, at least not in your world.
One night, you even go so far as to convince yourself that all the hopeless dreaming had to stop. From that moment on, you’d still enjoy books, but you wanted to do your best to stop imagining a life for yourself in worlds you’d never get to visit.
It’s definitely easier said than done, but you go to bed that night confident that it’s the right thing to do.
Only, when you wake up the next morning… something is off. This isn’t your bedroom. The clothes you’re wearing, you’ve never seen before. And why does the man that has just entered your room look exactly like how you pictured Azriel?
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TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES ONLY ── if you requested to be tagged and your name isn’t clickable, it means i wasn’t able to tag you! also sorry to anyone who might’ve gotten their hopes up thinking this tag mean i posted it, but i promise it’s coming sometime this week! this is just so i’m able to keep track of who asked to be tagged.
@namelesssav | @cinnamoodles | @orphicmeliora | @flowerprincezz | @blushingfawnsposts | @kylaisra | @princessbelleinthetardis | @msoldier | @ccacotartoglover | @vickykazuya | @thecourtofnightmaresanddreams | @mirandasidefics
TAGLIST FOR ALL THINGS AZRIEL ──
@bakananya | @thisiskaylin | @saltedcoffeescotch | @melmo567 | @chelsiemp | @lilah-asteria | @r0sluvs | @imagoddessinmystories | @sandramalikstyles-blog | @minnieoo | @durgenyx
IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THIS SERIES TAGLIST, LET ME KNOW! (you can specify just this series, or all things Azriel)
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fantasyandshit · 16 days
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Something is wrong
type: Oneshot
Pairing:Azriel x reader
Masterlist
"where are you going?"
"Oh, Az!" Yn turns as her wings unfurl- "Im headed to Windhaven to check on things up there for Rhys- When did you get back? I thought you were still in Day?" "I-I returned last night. I'm sorry, you said your going to WindHaven?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Rhysand asked me to? What's the issue with that?"
The shadowsinger notes the females face contorting into one of confusion, "Well it's just- Myself, Cassian, or Rhys are the ones that usually go up?"
Now the confusion morphs to anger and annoyance as she speaks, "Oh? Am I not capable shadowsinger?"
"No No! It's just that they are dangerous as they are- and well, your a female far more powerful than any of them-who knows what they may try to do to you?" The words fly out of Azriels mouth in a blur.
"Your right, i am more powerful than them-If I must I will fight them-inf act I'll do it in front of the whole of the camp as a lesson." the Illyrian females eight, bright green, siphons flare like green flames licking within the small gem shapes.
"Just-just be careful ok?" Azriel knew he couldn't fight the female-couldn't convince her to stay, and he knew she was very capable, powerful, but deep down he couldn't' help the gut feeling that something was going to go wrong- that she would be hurt.
"Always shadowsinger." She smirked as she dropped backwards off the balcony railing, falling for a moment before her wings flared open and she soared for the mountains- always with the dramatic exit.
-----
As I make my way through the frigid night to the cabin I am staying in I hear footsteps- ten separate sets of them trailing through the snow-following me. I whirl around only to be caught off guard by a punch to the face, I stagger back- quickly kicking my attacker in his kidney. The male lets out a groan, kneeling to the floor before before i kick him again, this time in the face. As I use my power, effectively killing the brute; another male comes up from behind, pulling my head and exposing my neck, just before I'm able to fling him off I feel a needle in the side of my neck. Shit.
I feel my body start to go numb, my knees giving out as the male behind me catches me. I barely get another glimpse before my eyes are rolling back as I go limp in his arms.
-----
"I'm telling you Rhys- its been five days, you said she'd be back in three. There has been no warning of a longer stay and no-"
"Azriel! Stop it! Yn is capable- you know that better than anyone, she will be fine!" A sigh, "If she doesn't come back within two days-we will go after her. ok?"
Knowing he wouldn't win this, Azriel bows his head before stalking out.
-----
The next day the doors to Rhysand's office were thrown open, the Shadowsinger storming in. He knew something was off with yn and he was not going to sit around any longer. He just, he just knew she wasn't ok and the fact no one seemed to care made him blind with rage. He didn't understand this feeling, he'd never been nearly this mad at his family before but he couldn't shake the fire burning underneath his skin.
"Im leaving and you're either coming with me or staying out of my way." Azriel didn't need ti explain, everyone in the room knew what he was talking about- well more like seething like a wild animal, his hair tousled as he glared ahead.
The high lord lets out an exasperated sight, "Az- we talked about this, if sh-"
"No! No! What of it were Mor? What if it where Feyre, or Nesta?"
"That's different-"
"No its fucking. Not. Now are you coming with me or no?"
As he turns to leave the room, Cassian moves to him,p placing a hand on his shoulder as he tries to reason, "Maybe-"
"Let. Me. Go."
"Az-"
"Let him go Cass."
The Illyrian let's his brother go sighing as he does so.
-----
Azriels shadows are in a frenzy as he lands in the camp- hurt- experiments-torture-ten-hurt-help-help!- Help her! Now! Faster!
The male sprints, running faster than he ever has as his shadowsa lead him deep into the woods where one lone cabin stands.
'basement- ten males-she's hurt-save her'
As the door is pushed open a man jumps for Azriel, he waist no time, sending his shadows down the mans eyes and strangles him as he slumps to the floor, the next males ends with a dagger in his head, the one after with a slit throat, choking and spluttering on his own blood, the fifth with shadows circling his body, pooling into the open whiles they find. The next is thrown from the house with Azriel's power, the next just obliterated, the eighth and ninth are thrown into each other, going on conscious before being stabbed in the throat. The final tenth one stands at the top of the stairs, thrown down and ending with a sickening crunch.
Azriel stomps down the stairs, being met with a sight that nearly makes him throw up as he rushes to the female. Yn lays naked and strapped to a cold metal table, her body covered in blood, vomit, piss, and puss that oozes from concerning wounds, her body is also littered in bruises, slices, and what look to be needle injection sights. And her wings, gods her wings were shredded, hooks tethering them to the ground. As he moves to her he notices a journal lying open...
they were using her as a fucking experiment- they had pushed who know what into her body, torturing her slowly.
"Az?" Her usual strong, sassy voice replaced with a weak whimper.
"Hey, hey I'm here." He brushes her hair behind her ear softly, his face softening immediately as he stares at her. she looks tired, so tired.
"You came for me?"
"Yes, I always will. Ok sweet girl, I need to release your wings ok? It's going to hurt."
She says nothing as she stares forward, Azriel grabbing the first hook and ripping it out- a small cry leaves her lips but she's out of energy, screaming far to much these past few days. Azriel moves to the next wing, pulling the second hook out, her wings drooping as he moves to unbind her. He slowly pulls her up and into his arms, cringing at the whimpers and squeaks she releases. "Oh sweetheart. I am so so sorry."
Azriel knows he can't transport her in this condition so he quickly calls for Rhys.
'Rhysand!' his panicked voice rings down to the other males mind
'Azriel? What is it?'
'It's Yn, bring Madja-quick.'
'I'm on my way now.'
"Az?"
"Yes?"
"Come here."
The shadowsinger leans his head down- surprised as Yn surges forward ever so slightly, pressing their lips together, molding them to each other like they were made for each other. Before any more can happen, Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian, and Madja appear in the room.
-----
Azriel watches as Yn's chest rises and falls slowly. She'd been out nearly three days now and Azriel couldn't leave her side, nor could he stand to look his family in the eye. They were part of the reason they were in this position right now, why Yn still lay on her bed, deep in sleep.
-----
The next morning Azriel is woken up by a soft voice. "Az?"
"Yn. hey, your awake." The male rushes to her side as he helps her sit up slowly. As the two make eye contact Azriel feels it, and judging by the gasp she lets out, Yn does too."
"Mate?" They speak at the same time. Smiling like two kids in a candy shop as they simply look into each others eyes for a moment. Unable to help himself, Azriel leans in, kissing he mate softly.
-------
Sooooo, hey guys! I felt like writing a feral Az but also wanted some sweetness sooooo here you go. Some of this did get inspired by the lovely work of @afandomangel but it was original work of mine, I've wanted to write feral Az for a while now. I want to leave this saying- Guys PLEASE send in requests, part of the reason I haven't been posting as much is because I a having serious writers block and my inbox has been open-and empty- for...well since In opened it and I needdddddd you guys to send in requests, I write everything and I write for a lotttttttt of fandoms, not just acotar so please please send in requests. Anywt\ay love you guys and I hope you enjoyed
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0hmyg0th · 23 days
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𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲, #𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 ★ ( modern au! headcannon )
★. . . introducing a new series and a new fandom 𓆩♡𓆪 this is a modern alternative universe of a court of throns and roses. this is only a headcanon! i'm not sure if i'm going to make this into a drabble. we'll see how this goes :) ★ . . . synopsis ⸻ you accidentally throw one to many parties a few... many times and now all of a sudden your landlord is kicking you out. who knew!? and on that unlucky day your angel from above found a "roommate needed" poster on one of the bullent board at school. desperate times calls for desperate measures. who knew this day and every single day after that would turn into the most luckest days in your life. 𓆩♡𓆪 ★ . . . note ⸻ female!blackreader, "the inner cirlce" will only consist of rhys, cassian, azriel for now and mor is not related to rhys in any shape or form.
it's been 3 months since the boys ⸻ ( not azriel apparently ) opened their hearts and their homes to you! and you still couldn't believe how things drastically changed, like you almost found a box to live in! Basically. but in all seriousness, you were extremely grateful. you didn't know where you were gonna end up 3 months ago so now, you carried nothing but gratitude in your heart.
however, living with three grown men can be a hassle and sometimes it can be overwheleming. with their scents suffocating you with every step they took around you and oh! did i mention that they are bigggg like fuck! with their muscle straining against their shirts and sometimes you would get caught staring at them; moslty rhys. but in all honselty it wasn't your fault!, like they should as least put on a shirt once or twice when you are around the house.
which brings up the topic of: ground rules you felt like yall needed some especially after the countless of times the boys would walk in on you changing or walking in on them. so it was perfect time to bring up this conversation
"honey, i'm home" cassian sang the words, with rhys snickering in the back and if you listen real close you can hear the huffs and grunts of azirel.
"hello, boys" you purred, you rose to your heels; trying carefully not to ruin your freshly panited nails. "i need to talk to yall." you stated clamly. the three tall giants gazed over you, azirel was puzzle, rhys show signs of concern and cassian just stuffed his big mouth with trail mix while the crumbles dropped periodically onto the shiny hardwodden floor.
you leaned back onto the kitchen counter, supporting yourself by your elbows. the small movemnet caused your chest to rise towards the celling and with your relaxed posture made the boys feel at ease. all three of them are insanely attractive that it even hurts to look at them.
rhys sat on the arm chair with his legs spreading wide as he steadied himself on it. your eyes didn't faltered, you didn't look down there you told yourself  it was a trap to look there and oh boy there were countless of times where rhys caught you looking.
cassian sat on the edge of the cushions with his elbows perched on his kness.
Azriel standing the farthest away from you and the boys. brooding and letting the shadows of his bedroom engulfed him as he leaned against his doorway.
"so.." you trailed, and they watched intensively. your eyes dropping to rhys to your dried toes. they let you gather your thoughts, “We need to lay some ground rules, or like at least mention it"  The invisible weight dropped off your shoulder, and so did they.
“oh, that's not so bad. you had me worried" cassian confessed. they all agreed in union.
you laughed, “How do feel about me bringing in guys over"  You swallowed. your eyes darted to Rhys, whose expression was shocked to Cassain who tried to hide his smile and Azriel looked puzzled. as if,  you looked like the type to never have a boyfriend or even mention a boy before.
 you felt offended, "well don't look so fucking shocked" you spit out. rhys inhaled deeply as his mouth began to move, "no no, i-its just-
"we don't mind"
your eyes landed on Cassain after he cut off Rhys. you locked eyes on him and somehow he had you under his spell, he was so easy to talk to, and by easy you meant; all he had to do was look at you, and then all of sudden your lips were moving and he's giving you nothing but warmth.
"good, cuz-
"no overnight stays." azriel stated firmly. he locked eyes with you.  holding you into his stare, like some sort type of competion.
 you pushed yourself of the counter and nodded your head in agrument.  "of course, this isn't a bed and breakfast. they leave before the sun comes up" you reply quickly. not backing down from he's intimate stare
"just keep the ...noise down" rhys mutters. you would of thought that you guys was talking about the bird and the bees in front of yall parents.  like im pretty sure they bring in girls here all the time, well.. actually you haven't see that or you haven't even seen them with a girl in the first place. and you are 100% sure that their asses is not celibate.
it kinda makes you wonder a bit.."so um what about you guys ?" you curled you lip behind you teeth. rhys drly chuckled, he turned around to face cassian and azriel. which made you even more curious to know their sexual relations. i mean, its none of your business but at the same time you can't help to wonder. like do they share women secretly? or are they embrassed to bring with them around because you're here. 
"uh, let's refocus. any more rules you got sweetheart?" your attention left rhys's who didn't stop staring to cassian who cheeks stained a pinkish color. you rasied your eyebrows, oh yeah they are definitely hiding something. and you have every intentions on finding out what. 
but for now you continue with your ground rules,
number one: one night stands leave before breakfast 
number two: knock, always knock. 
number three: no snooping. ( az looked at you when he said that )
number four: help with grocery, dishes, cooking etc. ( duh ) 
number five: split household chores/clean after yourselves ( the boys are clean people for the most part but just in case )
number six: no being half naked or naked in the presence of eachother ( very important!!) 
⸻ you know, you thought living with three full grown men would have cause you to pull out your hair in distress but now with ground rules in place you wouldn't mind living here full time. instead of a temporary stay, like you planned in the beginning. 
author's note: i wanted to write more but tumblr got this thing about can't go over 4000 thousands word count so i hope yall enjoy this!
comment and rebloging is appreciated not required :)
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surielstea · 2 months
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What if
During a night on Calanmai: Tamlin got a female pregnant without knowing it? Tamlins daughter then grows up only to find herself falling for the Heir to the Night court, Nyx.
Tamlin’s daughter!Reader x Nyx (secret/forbidden romance | fluff | angst)
I’ve been thinking about a Tamlin’s daughter x Nyx for so long! I’ve already written a few excerpts for a oneshot and I’m obsessed but I don’t know if you guys would be interested?? Let me know in the comments if you are and I’ll publish it! 💙💙
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tadpolesonalgae · 1 month
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Give and Take
Feyre x reader
Day 1: Lady of Many Faces
Synopsis: as High Lady, many citizens of Velaris have come to know her as kind; compassionate. Lending mercy where others would falter. As her lover, you bear witness to her more…unforgiving, tendencies.
a/n: I can’t manage a whole week, but I thought it would be nice to participate in @feyreweekofficial for a little 🧡💛
warnings: smut, references to poly!feysand though it’s strictly feyre x reader, slightly mean!feyre, face sitting, pussy spanking
word count: 2,096
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Feyre sends you a dark glance as Mor looks away to check on a friend, a stern warning if you’ve ever felt one.
She pastes a warm smile back on her rosey lips as Mor returns her attention to the two of you, shifting to stand closer, raising her glass to sip from, smoothly concealing her steadily thinning patience. The bubbly blonde gives a wince, making an excuse to slip away and check on her partner, leaving you alone with your mate.
“Enjoying the evening?” You ask lightly, hastily searching the room for a group to escape to, able to feel her tension rippling down the bond. “Not as much as you, apparently,” she replies, blue-grey eyes flicking sharply over the rim of her glass.
You offer her a sheepish half-smile, still searching for your third, maybe the only one who’d be able to spare you from her growing impatience. “Feyre, we were just joking,” you try, reaching to take her hand, “you know, having some fun at a boring party.” She hums, unfaltering from her position, pulling her hand away to pluck your glass away. “I think you’ve been having a little too much to drink. Maybe you should retire for the night.”
In a move of alcohol fuelled stupidity, you roll your eyes, huffing. “Jealousy isn’t a pretty colour, feyre,” you pout, shifting your weight to one leg, folding your arms over your chest. You offer a small smile, stepping into her space, both hands wrapping around her free palm, eyes twinkling. “You could retire with me…?”
Piercing blue-grey sweeps over you, and you press closer, breasts brushing against her ink-laced arm. She moves, lightly but firmly gripping your hip, keeping you still. “You have ten minutes,” she whispers beside your ear, hair prickling at the nape of your neck. “If you aren’t ready when I find you…” Her gaze cuts to you, but it’s not your High Lady, nor is it your mate.
The gaze you meet belongs to the ruler of the Hewn City.
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Pleasure shivers down your spine, cool air pebbling your skin into goosebumps as you strip away your dress, fabric pooling in a lake of pale silk upon the hardwood floor.
You’d been anticipating a reaction of some kind, but not to this extent, and you find yourself relieved to have slipped into the lace beforehand. Pulling the ribbon from your hair, you allow it free, excitement unspooling in your lower abdomen as you move toward the bed, spine curving as the mattress dips beneath your knee, crawling to its head.
The doors open barely even a second after you’ve settled down, a wolf hunting her prey, herding you to right where she wants. An easy meal, her eyes gleaming with vulpine hunger, sweeping over your bare skin. Greedily settling on the blue-grey underthings you’d slid into while preparing for the ball.
She stalks forward, slowly discarding her dress like a second skin, the kind, adoring mask of the High Lady giving way to starving hunger, those years in the forest not leaving her without scars. Her ravenous touches burn at your skin sometimes, so intense, so set on devouring you whole you’re convinced along with her powers she carries the magic to drink straight from your soul, feeding off your adoration.
“Want to try and explain your way out of it,” she drawls lowly, elegantly climbing onto the bed, crawling toward you. “Or are you going to be quiet and accept the inevitable?”
Your head dips, heat flushing your body as your toes curl, meeting her simmering gaze as you part your thighs, making room for her to settle. Her rosey lips curve, eyes gleaming with menace, “the latter, I suppose?”
“What do you want me to do?” You ask softly, bracing your upper body on your forearms, jaw inclining to peer up at her as she pauses above you. Keeping you in. She angles her head, watching you with predatory interest, sizing up her next meal. “Make it up to me.”
Blinking, your lips part, tongue swiping out over your lower one as heat unravels through your body. “Any way?” You murmur, mind already considering what you could do. “Whatever you think suitable, considering your actions,” she drawls, knowing how all the options will surely overwhelm you. Every fantasy you can create playing out behind your eyes, easy for her to observe.
Feyre feels arousal warm between her legs as your eyes dip to her mouth pleadingly, any sort of abrasiveness melted away beneath her attention, your attitude fading now she’s giving you what you want. She can practically scent how soaked your underwear is, how eager and ready you are to take and give and devour.
Your mouths meet, and former thought is washed away, lips slanting hotly against one another with a familiarity that has both of you fracturing a little. Moving with a swift undercurrent, tension tightening as teeth come into play, growing rougher and hungrier with each passing second. Hands tangle in hair, bodies press tight, tongues lick over one another.
Desire gets the better of you first, your hand sliding down her spine, encouraging her to arc against you, breasts flushing with your own, and you moan into her mouth. Palms settle over her hips and you roll over, her silky hair cascading over pillows like a messy halo, her cheeks warm and flushed, eyes glinting with demand. A queen waiting to be served.
You’re more than happy to obey.
You kiss down the length of her throat, licking and sucking where you can, ultimately focused on your end point as you inch down her wonderfully trained body. The muscle of her arms that helps her handle you into position when you’re being insolent, the thighs that trap and squeeze you when you’re being a brat beneath her, those lovely inner muscles that clamp down around your tongue and fingers when you eat her out.
Teeth drag over your lip, half a thought and the lace over her breasts vanishes, eyeing up her dusty pink nipples with arousal at the feast before you. Without any more pause, you dip down, giving an appreciative lap to one before fully putting your mouth over her as she moans lowly. Fingers tangle in your hair, gripping as her legs wrap around your hips, pulling you closer so she can find friction.
“Sweetness,” she warns when your teeth nip out, unable to resist. You blink up at her with false innocence, and you’re rewarded with a disciplinary tug on your hair, reminding you of your task: making it up to her.
You offer a smile in response, thumbs skating across her nipples before reaching where you want. Palms run over the tops of her thighs before slipping beneath her knees, bending them so she can be spread wider, more than familiar with the mechanics of her body.
You waste no time in dipping forward, pressing your face between her thighs, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure as her arousal washes over you, stark and concentrated. Heat bursts in your lower tummy, both of you moaning as you bury deeper, nosing at her cunt, fingers dancing over the tops of her thighs, ticklish and light. Feyre rolls her hips down, hand still kept in your hair to hold you in place as she gently finds her pleasure.
Arousal dims your mind, wanting to taste her, to lick, suck, and touch everything you can. Your mouth opens over her clothed cunt, dragging the wet heat of your tongue over her sopping underwear, sealing your lips against her, drinking her flavour from the fabric. Feyre groans lowly, foot dragging over your back, raising her hips out of instinct to invite more pleasure into her body.
You moan, swept away as she encompasses your senses, eagerly applying yourself to her until neither of you can take it.
“On your back,” Feyre breathes, hurriedly shifting into motion, causing you to whine as she pulls away. “On your back,” she repeats, harsher this time, and you hasten to obey. To do anything if it’ll return her to you. You need to feel her weight on your mouth, set on your tongue.
The second you’ve settled, she’s swinging her thigh over your head, having already discarded her underwear and you hardly have the time to comprehend that before she’s sat down, rightfully over you. Your eyes roll back, able to feel the heat that rolls from her cunt, her thighs, the wetness that glosses your lips, surely gleaming on your cheeks as she winds over you.
“Fuck,” she groans lowly, thighs spreading wider as her hands roam over your chest, thumbs flicking over your lace covered nipples before she vanishes the clothing. “So pretty. So fucking pretty.” You moan, tongue flicking out, lips sealing against her cunt as you swipe over her, pushing at her entrance, circling her clit eagerly, suckling on the sensitive bud, pressing closer between her thighs.
You gasp as she travels lower, fingers dancing over your abdomen, snapping the band of your underwear back against your hip teasingly, hauling a whimper from your chest. She laughs breathlessly, “should I touch you?” Beneath her you whine, thighs parting, urging her on as you make out with her cunt with a conviction that has more arousal dripping onto your tongue.
She hums, amused by your determination, raising her palm and you whimper at the lack of attention.
You yelp when she brings her palm down, connecting with your heat, slapping your cunt with a sharp, unrelenting motion. She gives you no reprieve before repeating it, unforgiving and relentless, keeping you beneath her as she takes her pleasure. One, then another, and another—unending as surprising arousal and heat gathers in response, so desperate for her touch you’d take pain over numbness.
“How many do you think you deserve, sweet girl?” She muses lightly, rolling her hips down, your mouth remaining open beneath her cunt, licking eagerly, drinking her down. “Five more? Ten?”
Your toes curl, thighs pressing together, heat swirling down your spine as she laughs again, gently plying you apart. “Start misbehaving now and it’ll only get worse,” she reminds, amusement prominent in her tone. “I thought you’d decided to be quiet and accept what’s coming?”
Again you whimper, arms wrapping over her hips to show your conviction, your need for her pleasure, to have her releasing on your tongue.
Feyre pauses, feeling how you’re blindly reaching for her across that mental bridge, stumbling through the dark in search of her. Her lips curve, bringing you in, opening the gates to allow access, curious what you have to offer. It’s not an image, but senses flood her own, the heat, stark arousal, the wetness that you’re licking through, obscene slurping sounds emphasised through the bond, receiving pleasure in both the mental and physical parts of herself, and the high hits her hard.
She gasps, movements increasing in pace, hips grinding over your mouth, pressing her clit to your tongue as she flutters with mind-numbing pleasure. Waves rush her body, rolling beneath her skin, palming her breasts as she sits back on your mouth, indulging in the repetitive flick of your tongue until the heat begins to fade.
You continue lapping gently, desperate to clean the release from between her thighs, to commit her flavour to memory as her hips still, panting softly above you. “That was good,” she pants, smiling faintly as she eases off you, threads of saliva joining from your lips to her heat. “So good for me, hm?”
You lick her flavour away, certain your skin is gleaming, but neither of your care as she crawls over you, pushing her mouth to yours eagerly, lapping at her taste as you share the slice of heaven with her. It’s hot and messy, open and needful as arousal twines gently between you until she pulls away, straddling your hips.
“But you know, you still need a little more discipline,” she breathes lowly, reaching back, loving how you flush when her hand cups your wet heat, underwear drenched. “Are you going to be good and take it?” She asks, smirking.
Your lips part on a gasp as she slips her hand down your underwear, the pads of her fingers brushing against the bare heat of your clit, locating it effortlessly.
Pushing the heat away, you manage a nod, meeting her lustful gaze.
“I’ll take it,” you murmur, hands settling on her hips, and she smiles.
“Good girl,” she croons, palm pulling back. “Just five more.”
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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria
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lanitalay · 6 months
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Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 6
a/n: this is the longest one yet and also my favorite. enjoyyyyy
Word count: 3.5k
warnings: brief mention of a toxic relationship
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“When do we leave” 
“Tomorrow after breakfast” you were giddy with excitement. “Are we going to the Manor?” You hoped he said yes, wanting to see the exiles. “Yes, I’ll drop you off there for a day while I take care of something further south and then I’ll pick you up on my way back. How does that sound?” “A bit tame but a million times more fun than what I’m doing here” he looks at you, unimpressed. You smile sheepishly. 
You’re so excited for a change of pace that you barely register the fact that you’ll be flying with Azriel having grown accustomed to being winnowed. It’s only when he motions for you to get closer to him that your stomach drops. “You better fly steady or I’m walking” you warn as he picks you up. “I’ll do my best, y/n”. 
“Welcome back, realm traveler” Jurian greets as he opens the door to the Manor. You smile and throw your bag into his arms. He huffs, expecting a hug instead. “I just couldn’t stay away from your pretty face” finishing the sentence with a wink. He seems to appreciate the compliment, leaving to go put your bag in your room. “I better be on my way, y/n” Azriel pulls you from your scan of the Manor, nothing has changed in the two long weeks you’ve been gone. You frown “so soon? I thought you’d at least have lunch or something” he shakes his head “I need to get there as soon as possible. But listen, stay near the house, don’t go into the woods alone and if you encounter someone you don’t know, lie. About your name, where you’re from, everything. These lands are vulnerable to… intruders as of late. Present company included” he adds the jab at the end in an effort to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. He offered to bring you here to get some fresh air and a change of pace but now that he has to leave you… he doesn’t want to. So close to tumultuous Spring and villages still recovering from war with only Lucien, Jurian and Vassa to offer any protection. He pulls a small dagger that he always keeps concealed in his boot and hands it to you “keep this on you at all times, don’t hesitate to use it”. Your eyes go wide and you grab it but you don’t know how to wield a knife, not to hurt someone “I wouldn’t even know how to use it though”. “When we get back home I’ll give you some lessons but still, keep it with you” you nod, placing it between your sock and your boot. “I’ll be back tomorrow in the afternoon” he stands with his arms stiff at his back, not sure how to say goodbye, he settles for a pat on your shoulder and leaves. His shadows linger a bit and curl around your legs and arms, more affectionate than their master. “He’s so ridiculous, you are perfectly safe here” Jurian blurts as he reappears. “He’s sweet” you defend your friend “sure, sure, come on, I’m going into town. You can take Lucien’s horse” at that you smile. You haven’t been with another human except Jurian and he barely counts as human. 
The ride was fun, you managed to follow Jurian with only a few minor hiccups. Your horse  stopped to eat and when you tried to get it to move you accidentally spooked it and it tried to throw you off. But it was so much more exciting than the long days in the stuffy library. “What are we going to do?” You ask as you see smoke appear in the distance, you must be nearing the village then “oh I need to get bread, milk, meats, other foods”. We are grocery shopping, yay. 
In all fairness it was a fun outing. Jurian got everything he needed and then some. “What’s for dinner” you asked, stomach grumbling rather loudly. “Soup and bread”. That sounds divine. The human lands were still warm enough for light clothing during the day but now that the sun was setting there was a creeping cold weaving its way into the house. You go up to your room and grab a sweater from your bag. 
When you walk into the kitchen Jurian tasks you with getting firewood for the hearth. “Doesn’t Lucien usually light it?” it was dark out and you were ashamed to admit that the woods creeped you out at this time. “Does it look like Lucien is here to light it?” He’s so moody. “Fine, I’ll go” that did irk you though. You hadn’t seen Lucien or Vassa since you’d arrived. You make your way to the small shack where the firewood was stored and grabbed as many logs as you could carry, cursing at yourself for managing to get at least three splinters. “You’re new” a low voice echoed and from the fright you dropped the logs, all of them landing on your foot. “Fucking hell” you winced as you tried to put weight on it but it just caused you more pain. A low chuckle caressed your ears and fury burned in your chest. “I heard rumors about a fourth exile but as for first impressions go this has been-” a tall, a very very tall auburn haired male stepped out of the shadows and looked you up and down “underwhelming”. You pick up the wood in a haste and limp back to the house “I don’t know what you’re talking about”. Jurian could take him. I hope. I just need to get close enough to scream. “My brother has always found himself in the company of misfits” he approaches you in three easy steps and takes the wood from your hands “but adding a defenseless human to the mix is a bad move, objectively speaking. You’re a liability” Brother? You grit your teeth, patience was never your strong suit and this male was getting on your very last nerve. “Who the hell are you?” He takes a step back “Apologies, I’m Eris Vanserra” Lucien’s brother. You didn’t know the details, but his brothers had a terrible reputation in the Night Court. You continue your limp into the house and call out “Jurian you have company!” There’s panic in your voice, Azriel’s words from earlier ringing in your ears. Jurian walks out and sags when he sees Eris “Oh, hello Eris. Lucien isn’t here”. Eris places the logs in the hearth and with a flick of the wrist throws a glowing ember towards it. Soon enough the room is engulfed by the warmth of the fire. “I’ll wait then” he walks towards one of the couches and sits. “What happened to you?” Jurian looks at your weary stance “I dropped the wood on my foot”.  He rolls his eyes and you hear him muttering to himself as he walks back into the kitchen. You sit on the couch opposite of Eris, taking off your boot to see if anything was broken. You grimace when you take your sock off and see blood coming from the beat up nail on your big toe. Great, a broken toenail. You try to wiggle your toe but the pain won’t let you. And a broken toe. You look at the red haired male and scowl “this is your fault”. He raises his eyebrows “I don’t see how it’s my fault, but that looks unpleasant”. “It feels unpleasant” you sit there, unsure of what to do. It hurts to walk but you have to wash the blood off. With a deep breath you get up and limp towards the stairs “let me help you” he approaches you but you hold out your hand to stop him “you’ve done enough”. He steps away and says “I’ll get you a bucket and some cloth so you can clean that thing down here”. That would be more convenient. “If you insist” and sit back down. 
Eris returns with the first aid materials and places them in front of you then sits back down on the opposite couch. You are pleasantly surprised when you place your foot in the water and it is a nice warm temperature. You clean it up as best you can and then wrap it up with the cloth. “I hope you’re not waiting for me to thank you, this is the least you could do” he shrugs “I don’t expect anything”.  That’s when you hear footsteps approaching and soon enough Lucien and Vassa are walking through the door. “Y/n!” Vassa exclaims and walks over to you but stops as she spots the bloody water, the wrapped foot and the Autumn heir. “What happened?” Lucien asks and you tell him more or less the events of the night. “And why are you both here?” You answer “visiting” and Eris answers “we have things that need to be discussed”. 
Lucien took Eris to the library and shut the door while Vassa kept you company. “It’s so nice to see you again. How are things going with the research?” You fiddle with your sleeves “the priestesses are doing the best they can but it’s… slow”. Vassa nods “I’m sorry, and how is the Night Court treating you?” At that you perk up a bit “it’s great, they’ve really taken me in and made me feel comfortable, Azriel was the one who brought me here because I was going stir crazy in that library” she offers you a smile “I’m glad”. After dinner Lucien offered to carry you to your bed citing that “you’ll probably fall down the stairs and break your whole leg if you do it yourself”. He seemed tense after talking to Eris. 
The following morning your foot was feeling a lot better, it was pretty sore but you could walk. No longer limping around. The morning routine was the same, breakfast with the boys and then they went about their business. Azriel was supposed to pick you up later today so you had time to do something. After testing your foot out you decide that you’ll take a walk around the Manor. It was a beautiful day and by nightfall you’d be back in the mountain top castle with zero trees around. You stay on the path, remembering just how badly things ended last time you didn’t, stopping only when you saw a pond. A beautiful pond that beckoned you to swim in it. You hadn’t swam in ages. And the pond looked so inviting and refreshing after walking for who knows how long. You approach it and look around, making sure nobody is nearby. Unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing and kicking off your boots at the same time like there was no time to lose. You had to get in, you had to swim, you had to- “are you trying to kill yourself?” Frozen in place you look toward the voice. What is he doing here? “No, I was just going for a swim” Eris’ eyes look like they are about to fall from his face for a second before he composes himself again “what?” “There are about twenty different creatures that would love to have you for lunch in that pond” you look from him to the beautiful inoffensive pond. “Yeah right” you continue to unbutton your shirt. He grabs your hand, his touch surprisingly soft and warm “yes, I’m right. That pond is about a mile deep and connects to an underground cave system, it is a trap for humans like you and animals looking for water” Trap. Run. Run. Run. Suddenly feeling self conscious  of your half undressed state you begin to button up your top and mumble “if you say so”. “I do. Let me walk you back to the house” you raise an eyebrow at him “from what my brother said, you are important to the Night Court for mother knows what reason and I need to maintain my alliance with them. If you get yourself killed they will surely pin it on me and I am not having that, so let’s go. We don’t have to talk” you nod, having zero faith in your survival skills at this point. “How did you find me?” he looks to you from the corner of his eye and says “you have a very peculiar scent, and I was walking towards the Manor when I caught it”. “Thank you” he looks at your foot “glad to see the injury was short lived” and flashes you a teasing grin. “It still hurts, but it is better. Still your fault though” he stops and turns to you “I just saved your life, think we can call it even?” and holds out his hand for you to shake. You think for a moment but quickly come to the conclusion that you simply cannot afford any enemies right now so you reach for his hand. It’s nearly nightfall when Azriel arrives. You quickly say your goodbyes and jump in his arms, ready to get back to the House of Wind. The flight was pleasant and you briefly went over what happened to your foot. You didn’t bring up the pond incident or anything relating to Eris. 
When you land at the House of Wind you quickly go to your room, dying to take a bath. You go through a routine that gets more familiar everyday: picking out your pajamas, bathing, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth, picking out an outfit for the following day, looking out the window until your eyes start to feel droopy and then you look at one of the pictures on your phone for  no more than fifteen seconds and go to sleep. Everything was flowing perfectly until you went to look at the nightly picture and discovered that your phone won’t turn on. No. No. No. Not today. Not now. You could have sworn you still had ten percent before you left for the human lands, that should have lasted at least three more days. Oh god.  The familiar dryness in your throat returned, your chest felt tight and you sensed that the room was caving in on you. You walk backwards, away from your bedside table and into the dresser, knocking over a vase with the force. You catch it before it falls to the ground and then smash it against the wall. Anger and frustration taking over you. Everyday you lose a little bit more of yourself and your world. You can barely hear as your door opens and it takes a few breaths for you to focus on the figure in front of you. “What’s wrong?” Azriel. “It’s dead” it’s off putting how unemotional your tone is. “What’s dead?” He pries softly. “My phone, it’s the only thing with images of my family and friends and world and the battery died” he still doesn’t fully understand but he gently grabs your hand and leads you to the love seat in front of the wall of windows. “I would look at a picture everynight before bed and it would calm me down, give me a good memory to focus on before falling asleep. Now it's gone” he nods “is it broken?” You shake your head “no, but it ran out of battery and from what I’ve seen there is no electricity here so I can’t charge it” once you finish the sentence the tears start to pour and Azriel beckons the house for tissues.
“Tell me about it” You sniffle and furrow your brows “about what?” He offers you another tissue “your life, you’ve told me about your world but I know nothing of your life”. Oh. “Uhm, well it wasn’t much compared to all of this-” “Don’t do that” he’s serious with his tone “do what?” “Diminish yourself like that, you are the most fascinating being I’ve ever encountered and you speak of yourself like you are your own burden” you swallow, not really having a response to that “I don’t know what to say”.  “Just tell me about your life, please” you gulp and try to think of where to start “Ok so you already know I had a dog, she was the best. My furriest best friend. I’ve mentioned my parents a lot, I’m their only daughter so I grew up by myself most of the time. I really liked coloring and reading and television. We had to attend school from when we were around five until we graduated at like eighteen. Then you could go to work or continue studying, which is what I did. I went to a college in my hometown and I studied and I met a boy. His name was, or is, Mathew and we were together throughout college. At our graduation party he proposed and I said yes”. This feels ridiculous. Summarizing your brief existence with insignificant events to Azriel. A male who had conquered the darkness that imprisoned him, who had fought in wars, who had rescued people, who had lived and seen so many things you couldn’t even dream of. “My mom was ecstatic about the proposal, she loved Mathew and she wanted me to get married and have kids and start a family. But I was not that happy. I loved Mat, I really did but the thought of getting married to him made me nauseous. The thing is that he could be… cruel when he wanted to be. At first it was only when he was upset but the longer we were together he would say the meanest things to me as if they were facts I had to accept. But he was very romantic at times and everyone in my life loved him. I just didn’t have it in me to stay with him though. So I broke it off against my mother’s wishes. It broke his heart and my mothers more than it broke mine. After that I had started fighting with both of my parents. Suddenly I felt like they were trying to control my every choice and I felt like I was being suffocated. After a really bad fight I booked a flight to Europe and didn’t look back. I needed to get away from them, from Mathew, from the whole town. I needed new faces and so I had been traveling for about six months before… everything. I didn’t speak to them for months. They would ask about me to my friends and after a while I missed them so I would call every once in a while.” By now you’re a pile of tears and tissues “We had started to make amends, you know? They were learning to respect my boundaries and I was excited for the new chapter and then it all went to hell”. You huff “and the worst part is that it’s all my fault, all of this mess is only my fault. When I left the house they had insisted that I don’t go or that I bring someone with me but I wouldn’t listen. I knew they were just saying anything they could to get me to stay. And everyday I’m here I keep picturing them thinking I’m dead. Maybe they’ve grieved for me already,  maybe they think I was kidnapped and had a horrible painful death. I have aunts and uncles and cousins and friends too, I wonder what they think happened. I feel so guilty that I’m here with all of you in this magical world and they must be suffering. And it’s ironic too, I had no plans to return home until I stepped through the damn portal, I would’ve kept traveling until I found a place that felt like home and I would’ve stayed far away”.
By now there were no more tears. “I keep thinking about all of it, my upbringing and I’ve landed on the conclusion that I was just an obedient little doll for everyone in my life. Being here has been so draining emotionally but it has been the only time where I can just exist without having to seek approval from my parents or my teachers or my partner” you laugh a bit “Mat would be furious if he found out I’ve been staying in a strangers house and that to travel I have to be carried through the air by a male. But he’s not here. My mom would be so upset too. I wonder… if , or when I get back would I even want to seek them out. I think I would only do it out of sheer obligation”. Your voice was hoarse by now “I miss them though, all of them. I miss their voices and their hugs and the security of feeling at home. I think what scares me the most is forgetting about them, their smells, their laughs. The pictures kept their faces fresh in my mind but now I don’t know how long I’ll be here and…” you swallow “memories fade” you close your mouth, tired of the sound of your voice. Azriel stayed quiet too. He had no idea how to make you feel better. But he figured you would appreciate a cup of soothing tea so he asked the house. “Here” he hands you a cup, just how you like it. He walks to your bed and grabs a throw blanket and drapes it across your shoulders. Then, he sits next to you and pulls you to his side. You relish the warmth radiating from him, the autumn frost having taken over Velaris the last few days, and lean your head on his shoulder. “I don’t know about the pictures but you can tell me all the stories you don’t want to forget and I’ll remember them for you”. 
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illyrian-dreamer · 5 months
Text
Our girl – Part 7
Azriel x Cassian x fem reader
Summary: Azriel and Cassian go feral trying to find you.
Word count: 5k
Warnings: Violence, torture
<<&lt; Part 6
Cassian was pacing, the roar in his mind loud enough to miss Feyre winnow into the room, her arm wrapped around an elderly fae, his bark-like skin unmistakable. 
“Finbark,” Tamlin greeted, moving to help the male into a seat as he leant into his walking staff. Finbark had aged during the war, and it was clear the long distance winnow from Spring to Summer was not easy to endure in his condition.
Azriel kept close to Cassian, but unlike his mate, his rage had fixed him to an icy steel. Arms folded at his chest, he was beyond pleasentries, unable to greet Finbark as Tamlin had. Not while his mate was still missing, not when he wasn't sure who or how many he’d kill to find you. 
The marbled room before him was filled with anxious tension. Tarquin had opened his home, with promise that his recruits had a lead on Y/N’s location. Finbark, Tamlin, Cassian, Feyre, Rhys, even Helion had come to support his friend. And while Mor and Amren worked with Azriel’s spies at the border, the rest of them were here, readying themselves for the essential intel to start scouting for his mate.
It was almost impossible to resist the urge to take to Autumn skies, to start ripping the heads of any guard or spy or missionary who served in Beron’s court. That instinct was outweighed by only one thing - Y/N’s safety. Start slitting throats, and Beron could easily follow the trail of blood back to them, and punish you for it. Especially in the ruthless, unforgiving manner that itched at both their limbs. It was better to wait for this lead - both he and Cassian had agreed. Better to know where to start the carnage before they set they world ablaze. 
Excruciating minutes had turned to hours, and both Cassian and Azriel were at their wits end. 
“Where is it, Tarquin?” Cassian gritted, his gaze an other-worldy darkness, unbound magic as bright as rubies twining his limbs. “You promised a lead.”
Tarquin’s face was a gruelling seriousness, one that Feyre herself had never seen. “Calm yourself, friend. It is coming.”
But that wasn't nearly enough to satisfy Cassian’s urge, so he turned from the male, driving his fist into a marble pillar, the thunderous smack silencing the room. Feyre threw Tarquin a sorry look. 
A maid entered then, hurrying to deliver a letter to her High Lord on a silver platter, before fleeing on quick feet – a wise move. 
Tarquin swallowed thickly while reading, not a breath shared amongst the rest of the room. 
“We have the name of the Inn, and the last known sighting of Y/N.”
Azriel’s voice was deadly. “We already knew that.”
He had snatched the letter before Tarquin could respond. He scanned it with quick eyes before raising them to Cassian. “This is different. Her last known sighting was underground.” 
Cassian’s eyes fluttered with rage. Naturally, Beron had chosen a concealed, subterranean lair to cloak his cruelty, making it even more challenging to locate his mate.
“It says here the entrance to the dungeons are glamoured, and are bound to an ancient magic.”
All eyes were on Rhys then. “Not even my magic can unbind that,” he said disappointedly, the tremble in his hands returning once more. Beron was a slimy bitch, and the thought of sinking his talons into his neck danced around in his mind.
“Then how the hell are we to find her?” Tamlin urged. 
“Hounds,” Azriel answered, looking over the letter once more. “Provided here are coordinates, where a pack will be provided to us for the search.”
“What in the Mother?” Rhys frowned, running a hand over his face.
“Who wrote that letter, Azriel?” Feyre asked, a knowing itch scratching at her brain. 
“It’s signed from Eris Vanserra.”
There were a few drawn breaths, and then silence. 
“It is a trap,” Helion said plainly. 
“Perhaps,” Feyre countered. “Perhaps not.”
“A trap would not be so wiling, so exposed,” Tamlin added. “I believe it is true.” He cast a look at Feyre, who nodded in agreement.
“And we are to risk everything on assumption alone?” Helion countered the male.  “When was the last time a Vanserra was celebrated for telling the truth?”
Cassian wasn't listening to their exchange, the General’s mind ticking as a strategy formed – for this was as good as war.
“Soldiers,” he said with a distant look, eyes finding his mate. “We need soldiers.” Be it a trap, he didn't care, between he, Azriel and the others, nor Eris’s or his phonies stood a chance. 
Azriel nodded in agreement. “Rhys, call to the camps. We need Illyrians.”
Rhysand didn't hesitate. “How many?”
“Hundreds.”
Helion shifted uncomfortably. “How many males do you plan to storm Autumn with? Power is one thing, but bring an army with you? You’ll start a gods damned civil war, right here in Prythian. Over a girl.”
Even as a High Lord, Helion stood no hope against Azriel’s strength, not as those siphons that usually kept his strength at bay now consumed him, pulsing in his veins, igniting his eyes with brilliant blue. 
Marble cracked as Azriel threw the him into a pillar, a snarl curled at his lips, canines inches away from his neck. 
“If you think my girl isn't worth waging a war for, you’re wrong. I’ll watch the whole of Prythian burn if she is harmed, and then some.”
Helion glanced around desperately, searching for an ally. But between Cassian’s fuming glare, Feyre and Rhys’s cold as night, and Tamlin’s own chest panting, he came up short. Even Tarquin showed no remorse.
“Please,” Finbark croaked from where he sat, his hands shaking as they rested on his staff. “Please, time is against us, we mustn’t waste it.”
Azriel withdrew at that, fingers flexing as he fought against violent urges. Cassian moved, his hand closing over Azriel’s scarred one as blue mixed with red.
Tamlin eyed the interaction curiously, before finding the letter from Eris on the floor, reading it over himself.
“The letter accounts for two females held in the dungeons,” he stated, slightly confused. 
Feyre blinked, her eyes fixed with Rhys as she paled even further. Forcing a breath, she moved those grey eyes to Helion. “When was the last time you saw the Lady of Autumn?”
Helion blinked, his brow then furrowing at Feyre’s suggestion. It had been longer than usual, he had counted the days. But he assumed she was keeping hidden, playing into their secret like she had always done. His hand intuitively found his chest then, rubbing at a gnawing ache, and panicked eyes found Feyre’s.
“Months,” he whispered, his chest tightening with every breath.
“That ache in your chest, friend. Has it not been a few months since you confided of your pain to me?” Feyre added.
Helion’s eyed widened. How could he have been so senseless? 
Pain turned to fear turned to an all-consuming rage, and feral eyes found Azriel and Cassian. 
“What was that you said of an army?”
————
The lethal point of that sword pierced through your clothing, its icy steel pricking at your skin, causing an immediate, searing pain. And oh gods, did it hurt. 
Your body, attuned to the peril through the bond, convulsed within, as if desperate to break free from your chest cavity, urging you to fight, protect, or flee as far as the gods allowed. In your anguish, screams and sobs erupted, fuelled by the intense desire to kill Beron, to snap his neck with your bare hands for even daring to harm you and your mates. Yet, the harsh reality held you at his mercy.
“STOP! I BEG OF YOU!”
Beron’s attention snagged to that voice beyond your cell, the weapon stilling as it lay pierced within your chest, stuck at your left breast.
“Please, Beron, I beg of you. I’ll rid of Helion, I’ll stay by your side. For the sake of the Mother, do not hurt this girl!”
Beron’s lips curled into a sickening smirk. “How brave of you, Seraphina my love,” he toyed. “How brave you become when finally faced with consequence.”
You had only a few seconds, but you used it to the best of your ability, calling on your power, begging it to fill your veins and swarm your skin. Your anger was of no question, but you were weak, and were only met with a faint tingle at your fingertips.
Cold eyes found you again, and you whimpered. 
Beron chuckled at the panic in your eyes. “Ah, sweet Y/N. Are you feigning fear, or do you really care for the bond?” He drawled closer. “Why would you have tossed them aside if you care for them so, hm?” 
His eyes darkened as he grappled at the sword again. “Try not to move,” Beron gritted,  teeth bared and he pushed with two hands now.
Your own howls and screams, Seraphina’s pleas and cries, Beron’s grunts as deadly power coursed through him – it was a hideous symphony of torture.
From deep within your chest cavity, death clashed with life, and so began the war within your heart. 
————
Azriel, Cassian and Rhys flew overhead, circling the location where Eris instructed to meet, scanning for traps while Rhys’s magic worked to unravel any glamours. 
Tamlin, Hellion and Feyre scouted from the ground, Tamlin in beast form, Feyre’s water wolves sniffing out the promised hounds.
They had left Tarquin to the border where the Illyrian army began to arrive, Mor and Amren with them. They would try to negotiate with Beron’s own armed forces while waiting on Cassian or Azriel’s word to strike.
Azriel spotted him first, ginger hair almost disguised amongst the matching tree tops. But it seemed the Autumn Princeling was true to his word, a litter of dogs leashed in his hand with enough apprehensiveness to be sensed from the skies . 
Three thuds were sounded as the males landed, stalking toward Eris with violent determination - the kind that sent most running. He spun quickly at the rustle of leaves, gulping at the three water wolves and Tamlin now prowling towards him, Feyre and Helion a few paces behind.
“Where is she?” Cassian spoke, his voice harsh and quick. 
“I don't know,” Eris replied, his own face grave. One of his hounds whined, and others pulled at their leads, desperate to start scouting. 
Cassian and Azriel shared a growl, unsatisfied with the answer. 
“No tricks Eris,” Rhys warned. “It wouldn't end well for you or your court.” And he meant it, because as he spoke, Mor sent images of the Illyrian soldiers now in formation at the borders of Summer and Spring, ready for their word, ready to tear the land apart to find you. 
“I am true to my word,” Eris replied, pulling slightly at the band of leather leashes in his hands. “I have trained these hounds in secret, since I first suspected of my father’s conspiring.”
“What you wrote of your mother, is it true?” Helion asked, voice desperate as an array of curved weapons and twining knives glinted in the sun – so unique to his own court.
Eris nodded morbidly, tears pricking at his waterlines. “I have let this go on for too long.”
No one offered him any comfort.
“And what do you get out of this, Eris? What is it you want in return?” Feyre had to ask, the lesson’s Alis had taught her all those years ago ringing through her ears. Make no bargain, help no one without knowing what the price might be. 
“This is beyond my own desires. My mother hasn't been seen in months, I suspect Beron has taken her. If she’s there, is she is… alive,” Eris had to pause and swallow before he could continue. “See that she is returned safely, and I will make it worth your while.” 
Looks were exchanged, before Rhysand nodded. “Will you be joining us?”
Eris’s eyes dropped, shameful shoulders slumping. “If he finds out I helped you, he’ll hurt me in unimaginable ways.”
“You coward,” Hellion spat, pushing past to grab at the Princeling. “You’ve known for months, Seraphina is down there, she–”
An outburst of agonising roars pierced through the forest, Azriel and Cassian falling to their knees, red and blue winking as they clutched at their hearts. 
“WHAT? What is it?” Feyre panicked, forcing Azriel up by his shoulders, scanning him over with wild eyes. 
Rhys was on Cassian, in his mind, digging frantically. “I don't know, I can't see past-”
Their screams intensified, their wings flexing and twitching with pain. Cassian howled as he clutched at the grass, and Azriel swore, barely holding himself up. 
“The-the bond!” he gasped. “Make it stop!”
Eyes were on Eris then, and he looked back, bewildered. “I don’t- I don't know what he’s doing! I don't know anything!”
As quickly as it had begun, the pain left their bodies, leaving the males sagged and trembling on the ground.
“We must move quickly,” Hellion murmured, eyeing Eris with distaste once more. 
Eris was already unleashing the hounds who began to kick and whine, desperate for their command. 
“Please,” he begged to Helion, his voice a mere whisper. “Please, bring her back.”
Cassian and Azriel had recovered quickly, forcing themselves to stand. They shared a quick nod, ensuring that the other was alright, flexing their wings and readying to take the skies once more. Whatever was happening, time was against them.
“Seek,” Eris commanded with a wavering voice, and the pack leapt into a sprint.
Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand launched to the sky, Tamlin heeding the hounds on all fours, and Feyre on Helion’s pegasus – an army of their own. 
Together, they would find them, or die trying.
————
You were loosing sense of reality, delirious with pain. You begged for it to stop, and then prayed for it to stay, to know that your bond wasn't dead, not yet. 
You were in and out of consciousness, your body blinking awake as Beron cut at that tether ever so slowly, not allowing you weaken or lay unconsciousness for too long. No, he wouldn't grant you that peace - he needed you alive, to withstand the torture, to survive, so his Seraphina could serve as his slave, mateless and obedient for the rest of her days.
“Stay with me now,” he gritted, slowly, oh so mind-numbingly slowly, forcing the rapier deeper into your chest, the bond whipping and lashing as magic clashed within, demanding warmth, demanding life. 
Your throat strained as you tried to scream, to exert just some of the pain that coursed through you – but no sound came out, your voice long lost amongst your cries and screams hours ago. 
Beron had assured you he was not trying to be cruel – that this careful extraction, and no matter how painful, he’d ensure you’d survive. Then you can die, for all I care - he had claimed.
As you thrashed, your mind flashed with memories of your mates, as if the bond or cauldron itself was showing you what was worth fighting for. Azriel and Cassian - each more handsome than the other. One of them wild, emotional, passionate and heated, the other a perfect match of icy calm, selfless, unyielding and determined. 
And you were a part of them, their anchor, the vessel where red met blue. You were what made them whole. And both of them flawed - oh so flawed. But their love was undeniable, unconditional, stubborn and powerful. You could see that now. You wanted them, you needed them, and if Beron was to break this bond, you did not want the life that awaited you.
So you fought with the little energy you had left, forging the bond to a weapon of sorts, sweat trickling as you writhed and grunted, your heart an open battlefield. 
Beron let out a frustrated roar, his rapier met with another bout of resistance, your bond swelling to provide a wall of magic he would again need to pierce. But it was draining him too – of magic, of whatever part of himself he had given to create such a tool. His son, Lucien, oh gods – but what else?
Lips curled with distaste, he pulled his hands back, wiping the sweat from his brow, wiping those sinful hands on his pants. “Let’s take a break, shall we?”
Flashes then, more memories. Tree tops, red ones, and distant yelping. You could not see them, but you knew that sound, heavy leathery skin flapping, pushing air under muscle. Your mates - the rhythm of their wings a lullaby. These weren't memories – they were visions. Your mates were coming for you - you only prayed they would find you in time. 
You hadn’t realised you had faded out of consciousness yet again, your head lolling before Beron grabbed you by the chin, forcing to wake. “Ah ah Y/N,” he grinned darkly. “Don’t give up on me now.”
Your only response was a whimper, an attempt of a beg left hoarse and unheard as Beron took aim of the weapon, ever so cruelly forcing it deeper into your heart chamber. 
—————
The auburn tree tops of the Autumn forest did little to soften either Azriel or Cassian’s landing. Their hands ripped at their leathers, clawing for their chest, to stop the phantom pain that carried through the earth somewhere below. 
Feyre and Rhys halted their search, sprinting to help the males, scanning them inside and out for the third time in the past few hours. 
Cassian held a palm up before Feyre could haul him to his feet, sweat trickling down his face as he panted, resting on hands and knees as the cuts from the branches were quick to heal. 
Rhys had just about eased the pain from Azriel’s mind, but there was no point, as it had disappeared as quickly as it did the other times. 
With a firm hand still pressed to Azriel’s chest, Rhys threw a panicked look around him. “I don't have enough magic to shield you and search for Y/N at the same time.”
Azriel shook his head. “Do not–,” he panted. “– for one second, spend your magic on us.”
Rhys’s face was grave, but he gave a small nod. 
Up ahead, a collection of yelps sounded, Eris’s hounds now excited and frantic.                                                                           
“Come quick,” Hellion called, the hounds leaping over one another, pawing and whining at the ground, his pegasus flaring it’s nose, wings tussling anxiously.
The group inspected the spot littered with dried leaves, a repetitive stretch of ground indifferent to any other area they had passed. 
“There doesn't appear to be anything here,” Feyre murmured, running her hand through the dirt. “It’s just ground.”
“Do we dig?” Rhysand offered as Tamlin neared, pawing at the ground with bear-like claws.
But instinct had taken over the males that were doubled over not moments before. Their eyes matched in brightness, their hearts panting in their chest. Everything about this spot, chanted to them – yes, yes, yes. 
They met each others gaze then, nostrils flaring. 
“I feel it too,” Helion said to them with a pointed nod, his own chest heaving. 
Azriel raised a scarred fist, shadows twining with raw, flowing power as he plowed a fist to the ground. 
And was met with a thud. 
Casting a quick look back at Cassian who nodded for him to continue, Azriel threw another punch, and another, until the ground beneath them fell through, leaves and dirt that had once been now disappeared as the glamour was broken through. Instead, an entrance was revealed, a ladder leading into the dark and damp depths of Beron’s hidden lair. 
Cassian didn't wait to jump straight through the hole, landing on fists and knees with a powerful thud. 
The passageway led both left and right, an ominous dripping could be heard in the distance, the only light offered by Cassian’s magic and the opening above.
Before could Azriel leap in, Feyre grabbed his arm. 
“We need to keep searching for other entrances, ones that might get us closer to Y/N.”
Azriel nodded wordlessly, quickly meeting the eyes of the rest of the party. 
“Be smart,” Rhysand warned. It would be hard advice to adhere to, each of them knew. 
Azriel didn't wait to watch the rest of the group leave, Feyre and Rhysand in one direction, Tamlin and Hellion the other. He jumped just as Cassian had, following that thrumming, beating instinct, the frayed and weathered tether calling faintly from within.
Cassian nodded in one direction, Azriel agreeing to the other. They would split up to find you - it was the only way.
“Be safe,” Azriel grumbled.
“You too,” the War General replied, his voice predatory and lacking warmth.
Without their siphons, Azriel and Cassian’s magic was tempered, raw, unbound and wild. It twitched at their wings and hissed at their skin, because even it understood it was finally time to start paying some dues. 
“We’re coming baby,” Cassian muttered under his breath, before the both of them turned their heels, picking up into a jog. 
————
The first guards Azriel encountered hadn't so much as drawn their next breath before he snapped both their necks. And the next two after that. 
Despite Rhys’s advice, he wasn’t being smart at all. He should question them, use his shadows to choke out any answers of how to get to Y/N that much faster. But there was a fierceness in him, one that moved his limbs and fuelled his breath before he could consider rationale. He hoped it had a purpose, that predatory instinct. 
Azriel had reached the next clearing within minutes – a storeroom of sorts, guards armed, their weapons glowing in the light of the torches aflame at the walls. 
Three of them died instantly, blue magic seeping through their nostrils and mouth, planting death from the inside out. The fourth was restrained by shadows, Truthteller firm against his throat as his body was pulled flush against Azriel, canines at his ear. 
“Where is she?” he hissed.`
“You’re too late,” the guard gulped, wise enough to not fight and risk pushing himself further into the blade. 
Azriel’s unsatisfied growl rippled through the room, contents in storeroom rattling. 
“It’s true. Even if you reach her soon, you–”
A final breath was knocked from his chest as the satisfying crunch of a broken neck filled the room, Azriel letting his lifeless body fall to the floor. He had told him what he needed to know – he was getting closer. That was good enough for him.
Azriel moved through the storeroom like a shadow, his eyes scanning for the way forward. His instincts screamed at him, urging him to find her quickly, to silence the haunting calls that echoed in his mind.
As he advanced through the next passage, he caught a glimpse of movement behind a stack of crates. Azriel's senses heightened, and he summoned his shadows, enveloping himself in an inky cloak. He moved silently, like a wraith, closing in on the source of the disturbance.
A hushed conversation reached his ears. Guards were discussing a secret passage that led deeper into the dungeon, a hidden route that only the elite were privy to. Hazel eyes flecked with blue darkened with a mixture of determination and desperation.
Without warning, Azriel emerged from the shadows, Truthteller in hand, its blade shimmering with an ethereal light. The guards startled, their eyes widening as they faced the deadly Shadowsinger. Azriel didn't waste time with words. Just like the others, he used his shadows to incapacitate them, rendering them helpless on the cold stone floor.
His gaze focused on the guard who seemed to be the most knowledgeable. Azriel's eyes locked onto his with an intensity that sent shivers down the guard's spine.
"Where is the passage? Tell me, and I might spare your life," Azriel demanded, his voice low and threatening.
The guard hesitated, conflicting fear etched across his face. The seconds stretched agonisingly, the tension in the room palpable. Finally, with a defeated sigh, the guard revealed the secret of the hidden passage, his words a reluctant admission that pointed Azriel in the right direction.
Azriel sheathed Truthteller, leaving the guard to choke on his shadows instead. He vanished into the darkness, unflinching at the choking sounds he left behind. He’d find Beron’s men in hell, and kill them there too. 
The calls in his mind grew louder, a symphony of urgency that spurred him onward.
As he moved through the hidden corridors, Azriel couldn't shake the fear that clawed at his heart. Time was running out, and he couldn't afford to lose you to the darkness that threatened to consume them all.
————
Cassian’s rage was brewing by the second.
He was yet to encounter anything but the unyielding, endless passageways of Beron’s underground labyrinth. He wanted to find men - to start killing, to save his fucking mate. Hell, he’d even take a torch of light at this stage. 
But the only hint of life was his own breathing, ruby red magic providing much needed light. Damp air clung to his skin, and the distant echoes of his hurried footsteps reverberated off the cold, stone walls. The calls of his mate, distant yet urgent, fueled the fire within him.
It was that other worldly sense - the one that revealed itself along with the bond - that stopped in in his tracks, his breath synching.
Ears pricking to an off-shooting passage way, the unmistakable sound of a slither made his stomach coil.
It was instinct to finger at his sword, to press his palm into the leathery wrap at its hilt, ready for anyone, or anything.
An ominous wind blew through the tunnels, blowing the loosened strands of Cassian’s forward. Whatever was coming for him, it was big.
It’s scent caught him then – the unmistakable smell of a wyrm, a putrid mixture of rot and dampness. He’d only encountered one in his lifetime, on a dare with friends. The fight was easy then, Cassian had lured it from it’s burrow, and had easily defeated the creature thanks to his ability to fly, striking from above. But in here it was different - he barely fit in these tunnels, there was not enough room to even flex his wings. The wyrm itself would take the width of these paths, leaving no room to avert or dodge.
The ground trembled beneath him, a warning sign the wyrm was closing in. He could feel the creature's presence, a malevolent force that sought to consume him. The faint echoes of its slithering were louder now, and Cassian knew he had to act swiftly.
Drawing his weapon, a gleaming blade infused with the power of his siphons, Cassian pressed his back against the cold stone wall. The wyrm, blind but relentless, relied on scent and sound to track its prey. Cassian suppressed his breath again, minimising any trace that might give him away. He was stealthily still, wings tucked close to his powerful frame.
The wyrm entered the tunnel, its massive body undulating as it sensed the air, circular rows of rotten teeth bared as it’s forked tongue flickered, tasting his presence as it inched closer and closer…
With a swift movement, Cassian launched himself from the wall, a set of throwing knives set straight for the wyrm's mouth. The creature howled and thrashed as one landed its mark, lodging in its throat, the other clanging against its teeth. As it began thrashing, rocks and soot fell from around, the structure of the tunnel rumbling with impact. Cassian knew he’d be lucky to not be smothered by the damn labyrinth itself. 
He’d have to kill the wyrm quickly for either of you to make it out alive. So the creature was as good as dead. 
Without a second thought, Cassian launched through the air, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of the wyrm. The creature's writhed with blind rage as Cassian grabbed at it's large fangs, forcing it's hideous mouth open. 
His mind reeled as toxins belched from the wyrms belly, the heat of certain death within swarming around him. But his muscles pulsed, and clarity was a blessed treat as he heard the calls of his mate echo through in his mind. He would not die – not until you were safe.
Cassian roared as he forced the wyrm's jaw that much wider, one strong arm bearing its might as he used the other to unsheathe his sword, facing it upwards within the creature’s mouth.
In a daring maneuver, Cassian leapt back from the wyrm, its mouth snapping shut followed by a piercing howl. Cassian’s blade shot right through the roof of its mouth, pointing right through its flaring nostrils. As the wyrm thrashed in pain, Cassian drew his longsword, raking a vertical line down the exposed neck and belly, gutting the creature instantly. 
There was no time to observe the beast any closer, to wipe the tacky black blood that covered his face and hands or even catch his breath. 
With a heaving chest, Cassian pressed forward, following the calls of his mate that echoed louder then before.
————
Azriel’s roar of frustration sounded through the narrow passageway behind him. 
Another door, and likely another room of guards that lead to fucking nowhere. He was desperate, magic lashing violently from him, the blue almost fully overtaken the hazel in his eyes.
He didn't bother with stealth, kicking through the iron door, bursting it open with a large bang as it flew from rusty hinges.
The sight before him was a curious thing. 
A wide spanning room, and to his right, almost fifty guards, all of them armed. He blinked across him, and in front of an identical door was Cassian, chest heaving, splattered in some form of ink, red shining from beneath. 
The stretch of leathery string pricked his ears, Beron's archers pulling tight on their bows as they aimed at males. 
Cassian’s grin was feral as he met Azriel’s eye. 
This was going to be fun.
————
Part 8>>>
AN: Hello lovely people!! I so hoped you enjoyed this next chapter, and the beginnings of feral Cazriel! Did you see Tamlin and Feyre agreeing together? 🥺 Also Eris is such a mumma's boyyyyy, I love it so much 😝 As always, thank you for your patience with this fic. I never expected the plot to be this intense, and it's taken a lot more brain power than I had expected haha! I hope I'm doing the story justice. I'm thinking we only have another 2 parts to this fic FYI, so very keen to wrap up this big finale as soon as I can. Comment to join either my general tag list or just the one for Our Girl. Thank you always for your support and kindness with this fic <3
636 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 3 months
Note
hi🥰 do you have a wip list?
Hi anon!!💗💗
yes i do, these are all the things i’m working on
updated march 24th 2024
Dad’s best friend Rhysand x reader, taboo themes, smut - finished
Feyre x reader, enemies to lovers, angst, smut, fluff - finished
Nerdy/tutor Azriel x bimbo reader - finished
Azriel x Elain x Reader, smut, fluff, threesome - halfway finished
Acotar characters x reader, meeting ur parents - halfway finished
Professor Eris x reader, next ch - finished
Acotar men x reader, can i sit in your lap , suggestive - finished
Rhysand x reader, corruption - halfway finished
Cassian x reader, food play, smutty - finished and queued
Cassian x reader, jealousy - halfway finished
acotar men x reader, plug hc’s - two men finished, three left
acotar men x reader, getting caugh by ur kids - just started
100 notes · View notes
bat-boys · 25 days
Text
domestic bliss
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 4.5k words
warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!
summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate
a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻
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Part 2
A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.
A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling. 
Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence. 
"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head. 
"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him. 
"Well, hurry up."
"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair. 
You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.
Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair. 
"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly. 
"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there. 
"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you. 
He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there. 
"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss. 
"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you. 
Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared. 
Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs. 
You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch. 
"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin. 
"With pleasure, sweetheart."
The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element. 
You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped. 
Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night. 
He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.
As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new. 
A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you. 
You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back. 
"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips. 
"Shadowsinger." You purred. 
"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation. 
"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room. 
Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone. 
After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove. 
With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones. 
"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting. 
"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs. 
"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly. 
"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.
"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you. 
"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh. 
Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.
"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.
"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.
"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze. 
"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye. 
"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress. 
"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you. 
"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over. 
"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"
"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down. 
"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit. 
"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway. 
Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen. 
He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 
A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his. 
A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.
"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. 
"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.
"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.
"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.
"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"
He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually. 
"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.
"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking. 
"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.
It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore. 
Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are. 
Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him. 
The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"
He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down." 
He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him. 
"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him. 
His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go. 
"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"
"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.
"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion. 
"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."
He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa. 
"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.
His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought. 
"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart. 
"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."
Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there. 
He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite. 
"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven. 
He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile. 
"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.
"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile. 
"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.  
Read Part 2 here!
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