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jdeclerc · 3 months

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welcome home, high lord of night

pairing: rhysand x reader

summary: even the night court's high lord is not immune to the desperation that comes with days away from his mate, his high lady.

author's note: this serves as part two in my welcome home "series," you can find the first part here, but both can be read as standalones

warnings: smut

word count: 3,706

Rhysand breathes in deeply as he closes the front door of the Townhouse behind him, taking in the scents that are his home.

The lingering smell of a lit hearth dances in the air, mixing with the aged leather of the books in the library and whatever delicious concoction you had made in the kitchen earlier in the day.

He can almost hear the raucous in the front sitting room and the clanging of dishes from the kitchen that makeup the countless nights the Inner Circle has spent here. On those nights the house is filled with music, laughter, and an endless love that Rhysand never believed his family would achieve.

The memories stand in stark contrast to the silence that now fills the Townhouse. It’s not the unsettling silence that filled the house as he grew up, but rather a silence that allows him to breathe for the first time in what feels like an age.

In reality that age had been a four-day High Lord’s meeting that had him missing you from the moment he left you in your shared bed. The image, you in bed, draped in the black satin sheets with the sun’s first light filling the room, had gotten him through the most grueling moments of the meeting; giving him the best distraction he could have asked the Mother for.

The knowledge that you’re somewhere in the Townhouse waiting for him has Rhysand smiling.

He had first gone to the House of Wind, assuming you had surrounded yourself with family these last few days.

After a reunion with his family that was too short to be considered even close to polite, Azriel informed him you had come to the Townhouse earlier in the afternoon and they hadn’t heard from you since.

So, to the Townhouse he ventured, solely focused on finding the one fae he could go no longer without.

His instincts lead him further into the house, until he is rounding a hallway corner to the only door ajar, the only one that has a low light spilling from it: his office.

Rhysand comes to stand in the doorway and you’re too enwrapped in work to have noticed his presence as of yet.

He can’t help how his breath catches at the vision you create sitting behind his desk.

You wear only a black, satin slip; one strap having fallen down your shoulder and he can’t help but wish his teeth had completed that task. His eyes continue their path to skate down your arm, taking in the tattoos that tell the story of you, each one a reminder of what has gotten you to where you now sit.

His eyes make their way back up and take in the way your nose is scrunching and your brow is furrowing in frustration, your eyes darting between what he can only assume are two conflicting reports.

Rhysand knows you too well to be surprised that you’re still working at this hour, the sun having set hours ago. The two of you always seemed to be swapping places as to who was telling the other to finally get some sleep.

No, what surprises him is that you are in his office as yours is only one door down.

“Did we not build you an office of your own, my Lady? One that is bigger than this one, I might add.”

You give away no indication of being surprised by his presence, you simply look up at him with a mischievous smile, an eyebrow arched.

“The room may be smaller, but your desk is bigger, my Lord. I suspected it’s surface would be more suited to what I planned to accomplish this evening.”

Neither of you speak as he enters the room and begins making his way to you. Rhysand doesn’t stop until he reaches for your hands and pulls you to stand.

He pushes the chair back just far enough to move behind you, his body flush to yours. He intertwines his hands with yours once more and moves both sets to rest on the desk.

Rhysand bows his head, placing his nose against your neck, letting your scent envelope his entire being. He finds it more intoxicating that any faerie wine he could pull from his cellar and happily gets drunk on it every day.

His lips come to rest against your ear and his words come out dangerously low. He knows you don’t miss the utter desperation that laces his words despite his best efforts.

“Is there any way I can be of assistance? I’m ready and willing.”

You let out a low chuckle at his words, feeling just how ready and willing he is as he pushes himself further against you.

“I’m not sure…I doubt you can do a better job than that of my own hands.”

You can do little more than let out a gasp in surprise with how quickly he moves then.

The papers lining the desk are whisked away by the darkness that floods the room. Rhysand’s hands leave your own, finding their way to your waist. He turns you and lifts you onto the desk, placing his right hand against your sternum as he pushes you to lay down before him.

Rhysand doesn’t dare move as he drinks in the sight of you sprawled before him. His hands splay on the outer edges of your thighs as he takes a step forward to stand between them.

He brushes his thumbs against the hem of your slip that’s ridden up slightly, his hands are feather light as he pushes them up, revealing more of you to him.

Rhysand grins at the whimper you allow to escape when he ceases his movements.

“It would seem, my love, that even you don’t believe your own words.” His hands tighten where they rest. “Would you like to amend your previous statement?”

“You’ve yet to prove your worth, High Lord. My words remain unchanged.”

You take pride in the growl that rolls from your mate, he is a male unwilling to back down from even the mention of his potential inadequacy.

Rhysand tightens his grip once more and pulls you to perch on the very edge of his desk, your slip sliding further up with the movement.

You feel the cool air hit the apex of your thighs as Rhysand finishes what his pull could not and spreads your thighs further.

His hands continue their previous journey, and his thumbs brush your inner thighs, his hands tightening their grip.

“Then I suppose it is my solemn duty to both you and our court to ensure my merit and worth is without question or doubt.” His eyes glint with amusement, having missed this back and forth with you over the previous days.

“It really is the only solution…the Court’s future is at stake, after all.”

Rhysand lets out a deep chuckle in response, tightening his grip on your thighs further as he sinks to his knees before you – a male more than willing to bow before his High Lady.

His hands remove themselves and skim the underside of your thighs. Your left leg is lifted to rest on his shoulder, your right spread even further with a push of his palm.

Your breath hitches at the darkening of his eyes, the change in his demeanor almost immediate. The mischief and amusement lining his features is replaced by a deep, deprived hunger.

He skims his nose along your inner left thigh, breathing you into his senses, letting it consume him fully. It’s when Rhysand reaches the most sensitive part of you that he pauses and lets out a hum of pleasure at the desire he finds there.

The breath he blows has you holding in a desperate whimper, the cool air hitting the heat that has built up from the moment you sensed him entering the Townhouse.

Rhysand nips at your inner thigh in warning, his following words holding the same warning.

“None of that, my love. Let me hear you give life to every fantasy I’ve had since the moment I left our bed.”

Rhysand can’t help the smug satisfaction he feels at the unrestrained moan that comes from you when his mouth takes hold of your clit. The sounds falling from you lips only becoming more desperate as he continues his ministrations.

You fall quiet and he can feel the way your body tenses as he slips two fingers inside you, curling them in the way he knows has you melting under his touch.

His thumb takes the place of his mouth as he leans back to admire his work.

“That’s it Y/N/N, you’re doing so well for me.”

Rhysand can tell you attempt to say something in response, but it gets caught in your throat and is replaced by a strangled, breathless sound as your orgasm washes over you.

He doesn’t change his pace as he works you through it and it’s only when your hands begin clinging to his forearms that he slows and doesn’t stop completely as he rises to stand over you.

It’s Rhysand’s turn to have his breath catch in his throat.

The rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flush of your cheeks, the intensifying scent rolling off of you in waves; it all has him struggling to remain standing.

As your eyes meet his, he can tell just how much your pleasure had taken over.

“Anything you’d like to say at this time, my Lady?”

The small smile that blooms on your face has his heart tightening despite the teasing nature of his words.

“I could concede to the idea that an amendment to my earlier statement would be appropriate considering recent circumstances.”

Rhysand’s hands come to rest on your waist, and he lowers himself to hover above you. He can feel each breath you take and doesn’t dare speak loud enough to break the spell that has fallen over the two of you.

“Spoken like a true High Lady.” His words are followed by a laugh. “In other words, you’re saying you were wrong?”

Your hands settle themselves on either side of his neck and you run your thumbs along his jaw, taking in the sight of your mate that you have sorely missed. Your words are as whispered as his when you respond after a moment.

“So very wrong.”

His lips meet yours in a burning kiss, needing to be completely enveloped by you. And it’s not until you’re both struggling for air once more that you break apart.

As Rhysand straightens, he pulls you along with him.

You take a moment to appreciate the dark suit your mate had donned for his final day of meetings.

It was his signature black, a fitted cut accented by stitching so luminous it rivaled that of the stars in the sky over Velaris. He paints such a polished and lethal image that there could be no question as to what court he serves.

You can’t help but raise your hand to run it against the fabric tucked into his breast pocket; a gift from you many Solstices ago, a violet shade so close to that of his eyes that you were sure the seamstress had modeled it after your mate.

Since the day he received it, Rhysand refused to enter any meeting or court appearance without it. He lets it serve as a reminder of who he truly strives to be. Not the cold, calculating fae he allows the world to see but one who’s every breath is dedicated to the flourishment of his people, his family, and his mate.

Rhysand meets your gaze as you look at him through your lashes and he can tell that you have been speaking to him. He gives you an apologetic smile and sends a wave of encouragement down the bond, signaling you to repeat your words.

“Your jacket Rhys…take it off.”

Your voice is laced with a command, one he doesn’t hesitate to concede to.

He slips the article off his shoulders, turning only enough to drape it across the chair behind him. And not a moment goes by before your hands find their way to his shirt buttons.

Rhysand can’t help but be captivated by the movements, can barely take a breath as you undo each one at a painful pace.

You both know that the ability to whisk away every article of clothing separating you comes second only to breathing for him, but he can’t help but relish the times you undress him piece by piece. Nothing comparing to the fire you ignite with every touch. His shirt joins his jacket where it lay forgotten.

His belt comes next, and Rhysand can’t find the ability to breathe as you open the buttons of his pants. It’s when you slip your hand inside and drag it along his length that his resolve finally cracks.

No longer is he content with savouring you…he’s now determined to devour you.

One moment you’re relishing in the feeling of your mate in your hand, having missed him being so close. The next finds you laying on the desk once more, hands pinned above your head, and the feeling of your mate sinking into you in one smooth movement.

You can’t find it in yourself to care how quickly he rid himself of the rest of his clothing, not when he’s filling you to the point of such sweet oblivion.

Rhysand rests his forehead on your chest, gently nipping at the skin between your breasts. He makes no move to push either of you to the edge, seemingly content to bask in your closeness.

You move to grind against your mate, your impatience winning out, unable to resist the need crawling along every inch of your skin any longer.

A deep chuckle escapes Rhysand as he lifts his gaze to meet yours.

“Impatient this evening, are we, my Lady?”

It takes a moment for you to respond, your voice coming out as a whisper.

“You’re not the only one that has been without a mate these last days.”

It’s the longing flashing across your face that has Rhysand connecting his lips with yours. The kiss is slow, revenant. He pushes his own longing down the bond toward you, ensuring you know you’re not alone in needing him to be close.

Rhysand’s first movements match that of his kiss. They’re slow, drawn out so you both feel every moment to your very cores. The drag of him along your walls has you gasping for breath, his hands skirting down your arms has the skin raising in their path.

His hands continue their path down until they come to rest at your waist, his grip tightening as he quickens his pace. And his control slips further when your hands find purchase on his upper arms, fingers digging into his skin.

Your skin is ablaze as his lips trace a path across your collarbone and up the right side of your neck. You can feel the skip in his breath as you speak, the words coming out between the moans that he draws from you.

“Rhys, please…”

His only response is the moving of his right hand to your clit, tracing circles with the pad of his thumb. It takes only moments for Rhysand to feel your body tensing, and he can’t help the satisfaction that rolls over him as the coil within you snaps.

It takes every bit of resolve he has left not to find his own release as he watches your eyes close, head tilting back as your mouth falls open, your pleasure overtaking every part of you. The sounds falling from your lips doing more to him than any poetry or song could ever hope to.

He slows his pace to carry you through the waves of euphoria being sent down the bond, stilling completely as your eyes slowly open and meet his own.

Your hands loosen where they had landed on his neck, your thumbs running along the underside of his jaw. You let out a breath, coming down from the most beautiful high.

“I’m not done with you yet, love.” Rhysand’s words are sin personified, dripping with a promise of further devastation.

He rises to stand once more. His hands grip your thighs to encircle them high around his waist, the change in angle has your both letting out groans of satisfaction.

Rhysand draws out enough that you let out a whimper at the potential loss of him, the sound cut off as he thrusts back in. He repeats the action and silently thanks the Mother that the house is empty, not trusting his reaction should any other fae hear the sounds falling from your lips.

“You’re going to cum for me again Y/N.” His words leave no room for argument, his voice dripping with need. “Tell me how to get you there. What does my High Lady require of her Lord?”

Rhysand can feel the shiver that runs down your body at his words. And he can’t help the one that runs through him at yours that follow.

“Fuck me like you do in Illyria, like the High Lord we let them believe you to be.”

And so, he does.

The pace he sets is as fierce as the hold his hands have on your thighs; hard and unrelenting. Rhysand pins your hands above your head once more and sinks his teeth into the meeting of your shoulder and neck.

Groans come from him that are nothing short of primal, your own that fill the room respond in kind. Nothing exists for either of you outside this moment, no words necessary to know that you are both quickly approaching release.

Your left-hand grasps at his right where it lays on your waist. Rhysand entwines his hand with your own. He doesn’t flinch at the hold you have on him, knowing it’s what grounds you in moments like this, not wanting to be completely lost to your pleasure.

Rhysand knows his cock won’t be enough to bring you over the edge, knows that with each orgasm he draws from you the next will be harder to reach.

You need more…and he is more than happy to give it to you.

At the same moment his lips connect with yours his left-hand moves, his index and middle fingers moving over your clit in time with his thrusts. He swallows every noise that his actions draw from you.

It takes mere moments for white hot pleasure to flood the bond, your mouth breaking from his own as you pull him impossibly close, fingers digging into where they cling to his back.

Rhysand follows soon after with a guttural cry escaping him as he spills inside of you, his arms moving under you, his right around your waist and his left to the back of your neck. He is clinging to you as desperately as you are to him, neither of you allowing any space to exist between your bodies, both of you shaking in the aftermath of your combined releases.

For all Rhysand knows it is hours before either of you move, before either of your breaths begin evening out.

Rhysand is the first to move, taking your thighs in his hands. He keeps them stable as he slowly pulls out of you, both of you mourning the lost connection. He leans down to capture your lips as you feel his magic do between your thighs what Rhysand would typically do with a warm cloth.

He pulls you with him as he stands, refusing to put any distance between your bodies.

You’re the first to break the silence as your hands rest on either side of his neck, your voice still ragged and strained.

“I’m inclined to miss more meetings if this is what I should expect upon your return.”

Rhysand doesn’t miss the mirth in your eyes, his expression, however, holding a seriousness you question with a furrow of your brow.

“I’m begging you not to…they all revolted when I informed them you would not be joining us.” He can tell you’re struggling to hold in a laugh, his tone reflecting his unappreciation for your lack of concern for him. “I’m serious Y/N. Vivian and Helion started taking bids for who would do the honours of throwing me into the Erythrian should I dare show up without you again.”

You don’t even attempt to hold in your laugh then, knowing that the other court leaders take great pleasure in riling your mate up. Rhysand tries and fails to hold in a laugh of his own.

“We wouldn’t want that, now, would we? Who knows what all that sea water would do to your hair!”

Rhysand’s hand flies to his chest as though you’ve pierced it with an arrow.

“You wound me, my love. How will I ever overcome such cruel words?”

You both break into a renewed fit of laughter, savouring the lightness now residing in both of your chests. It’s only when tears line both of your eyes that your laughter quiets.

You meet your mate’s eyes and find nothing short of devotion in them as they take you in. Rhysand runs the tips of his left hand down your cheek, as though he is committing you to memory. Your own hand comes to rest atop his own.

“I’m glad you’re home…nothing feels the same with you gone.” Your words are no more than a whisper as you gaze up at your mate.

“I am yours. From now until we draw our last breaths, I will always return to you.”

It’s your turn to capture his lips with your own, savouring in the feeling of him before pulling back.

“Take me to bed Rhysand.”

He’s not sure what lays beneath the command but he obeys it without hesitation, lifting you from the desk and making his way to the doorway of his office.

Rhysand has no care for the clothes long forgotten on the back of his chair, nor does he will your work back on his desk.

He knows you won’t be in need of it come morning, knows that neither of you will be leaving your shared bed for quite some time.

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand #acotar #acotar x reader #night court

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jdeclerc · 3 months

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Hi again!!! It’s your anon who just sent that thing about reader ending up with Eris after Cassian cheated! Imagine them having to share custody of their kid 😂

Co Parents

Part two of my angsty Cassian cheating drabble:

Cassian shifted uncomfortably as his daughter hugged Eris goodbye. She had her little hands gripped tight into his tunic and face buried in his neck.

"It's only two weeks, little flame," he whispered soothingly to her. "Just to give mommy and I time to adjust to the new babe. Then you get to come home and be with him and us."

She nodded, putting on a brave face. "I love you."

Eris wiped tears from her chubby cheeks, "I love you too, baby girl."

It shouldn't have bothered Cassian. Eris had raised her. He had been there when she was born, when she took her first steps, ate her first real meal. Eris had stepped up while Cassian stepped away, giving you your space. Eris was the male your daughter called daddy. The one she ran to when she had nightmares.

And it killed Cassian. It killed him that you had moved on. That you were now heavily pregnant with his child and heir of the Autumn Court. It killed him that his daughter didn't live in his home. It killed him that she was growing up with different traditions.

His choice to sleep with Nesta had left him with a hole in his heart. One Nesta had tried to fill but realized slowly she couldn't. They still fucked like rabbits, but the romance wasn't there. It had become solely physical and based on familiarity.

Cassian nodded. "Anything else?"

Eris picked your daughter up as she threw herself in his arms again and walked her to Cassian. "You promised you wouldn't cry this time, little love," Eris handed her to Cassian with a brief look of heart ache and pain. "She has a new bedtime. She gets to stay up until 8 o'clock." Cassian noted the soft break in his voice. "She likes hot cocoa before bed still and a snack."

The Autumn High Lord ran his hand down her long dark curls. "We've been... refusing to go potty when we need to lately. We get too excited about what we're doing and do not want to miss a single second. We haven't had an accident in a few days, but if she starts to dance, she probably has to potty and needs you to let her know you'll wait for her. Because the excitement and fun will still be there when she comes back, right princes?"

She nodded, "Right daddy."

Eris kissed her forehead. "We put her favorite books and stuffie in her bags. She also promised to not do what this time?"

Her head fell back with a loud groan. "I won't annoy Uncle Azzie."

Cassian laughed lightly. "You didn't annoy him, baby girl."

She smiled wickly, turning to Eris with a smirk she had to have learned from him. "See, daddy, Uncle Az loves me."

Eris rolled his eyes with a soft smile. "Be good for dad, okay? Momma and I will see you soon." Eris turned to Cassian. "If you need anything, send a letter through the fire first. Y/n is..." Eris felt his jaw twitched. "Rhys will explain."

Cassian nodded. "I'll take good care of her."

"I'm sure you will, Cassian. I have no doubts. Two weeks, baby."

"Two weeks, daddy." Eris left, leaving Cassian and his daughter standing there as she sniffled softly.

"Can we have cookies?"

Cassian held her closer, adjusting as he began to walk her through Velaris. "Of course, angel. I could never say no to you."

He kissed her temple as she snuggled into him.

Two weeks.

He had two weeks to memorize how much she had already grew.

He had two weeks to kiss her fingers, her little cheeks, her toes.

He had two weeks to feel a little piece of you.

And two weeks was never long enough.

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jdeclerc · 4 months

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site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms

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jdeclerc · 4 months

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whaaaat?! this is too cool 🥹💕

ACOTAR Recommendations

Legend: ♨️ = Explicit Smut; ☁️ = Fluff; 💧 = Angst; Personal Favorites; Characters are in alphabetical order

Azriel x Reader

☁️💧 Always @redbleedingrose

☁️ A Not So Secret Affair @moononastring

☁️💧 Before I Say Goodnight @lanitalay

☁️💧 Falling @bookish-whore (also Lucien x Reader)

☁️💧 False Confessions @writingsbychlo

☁️💧 Pawn for Pawn / Homesick/Lovesick @azrielhours

💧 Second @akingdomofswordsandstories

♨️☁️💧 Soothing Darkness @miss-shadowsinger

☁️💧 Speaking of Forgiveness @violet-shadows

☁️ The Shadows Seek Her Out @anyoneseenadam

💧 Test Me @oliviajdjarin

☁️💧 Unrequited / Part 2 @akingdomofswordsandstories

☁️ What Happens In Velaris @writingsbychlo

Cassian x Reader

☁️ Structure of the Gods @azsazz

Eris x Reader

☁️ A Brother’s Intervention / Part 2 @jdeclerc

☁️💧 Bloodshed @thelov3lybookworm

💧 Cauldron of Fire @acourtofmenandthirst

♨️☁️💧 Destiny’s Battleground / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 @leafsandstarlight

☁️💧 Flame, Shadow, Beast @florencemtrash

☁️💧 Gust & Flame @invisibleanonymousmonsters

If I can’t have love I want power @historiaxvanserra

♨️☁️💧 Le Temps Viendra @historiaxvanserra

♨️☁️💧 Pretty? @redbleedingrose

☁️💧 Rose Gardens / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 @profound-imagination

♨️☁️💧 Runaway / Part 2 / Part 3 @acourtofmenandthirst

☁️ The Fox & The Hound @acourtofmenandthirst

☁️💧 Till the End of Time @redbleedingrose

Lucien x Reader

♨️☁️💧 A Court of Ash and Smoke / A Court of Fate and Fortune @draguta

♨️☁️💧 Fireleaf @acourtofwhatthefuck

☁️💧 I Hope She Makes You Happy @juulle987

♨️☁️ Mariposa @theostrophywife

☁️💧 Tolerate @kindredcandy

☁️ To Love and Cakes @thelov3lybookworm

♨️ Yours or Mine @gothicbabydollz

Rhysand x Reader

☁️💧 To Dream of You @jdeclerc

💧 Trying to Forget It @azsazz

☁️💧 With Me, Always @acourtofwhatthefuck

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jdeclerc · 5 months

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I don't need this today but I have other days - sharing for those that also do <3

To any suicidal followers I may have: This is a sign to not kill yourself. You are loved and the world is special because you are in it. Keep holding on.

Reblog this when it’s on your dash. You will save someone’s life.

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jdeclerc · 5 months

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a masterlist

...because i know the very real struggle of digging through a blog to find other fics from an author you enjoy (thank you for reading <3)

CHARACTERS

azriel

happy birthday, shadowsinger

cassian

meet my eye & vow to be true

welcome home, general

eris

a brother's intervention - part one, part two

lucien

under autumn's moon

rhysand

to dream of you

welcome home, high lord of night

SERIES

happy birthday "series"

happy birthday, shadowsinger

welcome home "series"

welcome home, general

welcome home, high lord of night

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #eris x reader #lucien x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar

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jdeclerc · 5 months

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happy birthday, shadowsinger

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: it's the night before azriel's birthday and he can't help but want you all to himself, politeness and decorum be damned

author's note: i'm a self-proclaimed cassian girlie but az does something to me, i wanted my first fic featuring him to be a happy one...enjoy :)

warnings: smut

word count: 5,728

“Even you can’t slip out unnoticed during your own party, Azriel.”

Azriel can hear the smile in your voice from where he stands facing the kitchen window overlooking the ocean. He wordlessly sends his shadows away, commanding them to ensure the two of you are left alone.

“Who’s to say my plan was to go unnoticed?”

He turns, drinking in your form from where you stand in the kitchen’s doorway.

He had almost been brought to his knees when you exited your shared dressing room hours earlier. Azriel had gone with you too many times not to recognize the pieces you wear as being custom-made by your favourite designer in the rainbow.

The top is made of the most beautiful lace Azriel has every seen, a band of black underneath is the only solid piece. The neckline raises high enough to circle your throat, he had found himself picturing his hand replacing that particular part more times that he cares to admit.

The high-waisted black pants flow down your form like water over rock, two slits running up both sides until they stop near the tops of your thighs. Throughout the night his hands had used every opportunity to slip themselves beneath the fabric, your skin against his own being a feeling he will chase for eternity.

But it is the vision of you now that has him thinking himself the luckiest male in all of Prythian.

You had removed your shoes at some point throughout the night, the intricate style of your hair had been replaced by a beautifully messy knot at the top of your head, and your jewellery had been abandoned in various places, the only piece remaining being the band he had placed on your finger two centuries ago.

You embody everything he deems to mean home, to mean comfort and safety.

“What if my plan was this? To have you all to myself?”

The kitchen is empty save for the two of you, the only noise being the music filtering in from the sitting room.

“You have me Azriel…any way you wish, any time you desire, I am yours.”

He can’t help his smile as he extends his right hand out toward you, a silent invitation for you to approach.

“Dance with me?”

Your eyes don’t stray from his as you close the distance, your left hand meeting his right. He takes your right hand and places both around his neck. His arms come to circle your waist, drawing you in as close as he is able. His wings follow suit, framing the two of you where you stand.

Azriel begins slow movements as he rests his head atop where yours is tucked under his jaw, brushing his lips across your forehead. A song he recognizes as one from your mating ceremony begins playing in the other room. After a moment he begins singing for only you to hear.

Azriel has let only those in his immediate family hear him sing, them being the only fae in existence aware that the ‘singer’ portion of his title rings true. He has only sung for them a handful of times, usually only doing so when faerie wine has gotten the best of him.

It was the expression on your face after the first time you heard him sing that erased any fear he held about your reaction. From that moment he never once denied your requests to hear him sing. You know him too well to ask in front of the other members of the Inner Circle, asking him only in the sacred space of your shared home. He will never get used to the waves of love and adoration you send down the bond when he sings for you.

As the song ends, Azriel begins quietly humming along with the one that follows, pulling both of you further into a moment meant only for the two of you. Neither of you dare to break the cocoon of quiet that surrounds you, moments such as these happening not nearly often enough.

Azriel isn’t sure how much time passes before you break the silence.

“I’m sorry if the party is too much, Cas and Rhys insisted on a night of revelry and debauchery…a gathering, at our house, with just our family, was the best I could get them down to.”

Your voice comes out hushed, like speaking at a regular volume would break the spell of the moment.

“I’m not even sure I want to know what it took to change their minds.” Amusement laces Azriel’s response. “And for it to be on the night before my birthday rather than the day of? You must be a sorceress.”

“It wasn’t quite that dramatic…I simply began telling them how I plan for the two of us to not leave our bed on your birthday, and of all the things we would be getting up to. That seemed to lessen their resolve.”

You can feel Azriel’s hands tighten where they rest on your waist, his head lowering until you feel the brush if his lips against your ear.

“I imagine it would…care to let me in on the details of what you told them?”

“I only got to tell them that I would be too sore for training the following day and that my voice would be strained from screaming your name before they feigned retching and begged me to stop.”

Azriel’s laugh is impossibly deep, the tone causing an involuntary wave of desire to shoot from your end of the bond. The air almost instantly changes, the scents of your respective arousals twisting and twining in the air around you as your gazes lock.

Azriel’s hands move to the backs of your thighs, lifting you into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves forward until he can set you down on the closest counter, positioning himself between you and the doorway leading out of the kitchen. His look is nothing short of predatory as he stares down at you.

His right hand comes to rest on your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His left moves from your waist and begins toying with the base of your top, the small, black buttons being the only thing that stands between him and your bare skin beneath his hands.

Your hands tighten their grip on either side of his neck as you bring your lips against the base of his ear.

“Damage even one button and I will cut you down…the Night Court will be in need of a new spymaster.”

Azriel leans far enough back to meet your eye and gives you a scandalized look in return. Despite his look his hands retreat to either side of your waist, his thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your top.

“So very violent…I would never dare to do such a thing, my love. Do you think so little of me?”

You respond with a raised eyebrow, both of you knowing his accounts list numerous trips throughout Velaris to replace the articles of clothing he had been too impatient to remove without ripping them.

“Shall I start counting how many pairs of undergarments I’ve lost to your impatience?” You stare up at him through your lashes, choosing your next words knowing exactly what they would do to your mate.

“Or is there something else you’d prefer my mouth to be doing?”

“Fuck me.” He says it so low that you know he’s saying it more to himself then you. His hunger is evident in the way he searches your eyes.

Azriel’s grip tightens around your waist. He moves forward spreading your thighs further to accommodate his form towering over your own.

Wordlessly you begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, reaching halfway before running your hands over his chest. You trace his tattoos, taking in and appreciating the beauty of your mate. You can feel him tense under your touch as your hands move under the collar of his shirt, stopping at the base of his neck to toy with the hair that had grown longer than normal after his last mission.

You look up at him through your lashes and it’s as though his world stops.

Nothing exists outside of this moment for Azriel as his lips meet yours. His right hand moves to the base of your neck, tightening his grip to tilt your head back, allowing him the angle he needs to devour you.

The kiss is the exact opposite of his outward, quiet demeanor. It’s demanding, he is a male with a singular focus, a hunger that only you can satiate. His hands move to your thighs, holding them with a bruising grip as he pulls them higher and tighter around his waist. Every part of him meeting every part of you.

It’s when you reach and beginning running your hand along the length of him over his pants that he pulls back, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth as he does. He rests his forehead against yours, both of your breaths laboured.

“Here or our bedroom?”

“Wha –”

“I plan to be inside you before the clock strikes midnight Y/N.” Azriel’s tone is severe, determination lacing every word. “It can be here, with our family in the next room, or I can spread you out beneath me as you grip the satin of our sheets…tell me where and tell me quickly.”

A mischievous grin spreads across your lips before you respond, and it takes everything in Azriel not to capture your lips with his once more. Your words come out as a whisper.

“Your birthday, your choice.”

Azriel emits a low groan at your words. With a practised ease he lifts you from the counter, keeping your body tucked close to his. He turns and carries you through the doorway of the kitchen, toward the stairs leading to the second floor of your shared home.

Only Amren notices the two of you as you pass by the sitting room. She gives Azriel a knowing smile and it’s the slight bow of her head that tells him she won’t alert the rest of the Inner Circle to your joined absence.

As he reaches the second floor, he carries you through the double doors that sit directly opposite the stairs. He removes a single hand from you only long enough to close both doors, sealing the two of you away from the world once more.

It takes you no more than a moment to know where your mate has taken you.

“The library? Interesting choice.” Amusement is mixed into your loving tone.

“My birthday, my choice, remember?” He moves forward, your back meeting the closest bookshelf. “I bolted these shelves to the floor for a reason, my love.”

Your eyes widen, your mate having left that particular piece of information out when explaining to you how he planned to make changes to the library when the two of you had moved in.

“Azriel…you did not!”

“Oh, but I did, my dear. Do you not remember what happened the first day we moved into this house?”

You both can’t help laughing at the memory. What started as a simple kiss ended with the two of you surrounded by a broken shelf and books scattered every which way. It had been your favourite room in the house ever since.

The library holds such peace and tranquility for both of you. Your respective offices both have doors leading into the room. Azriel can’t count how many nights you both have fallen asleep in front of the fireplace, still holding your books. He also can’t count the number of heated moments that passed between you within the walls of this room, your books, in particular, being the starting point to more than a few of those moments.

Azriel lowers you to the floor and takes your hips in his hands, turning you around. He moves both your hands to rest on the shelf just above your head.

“Keep them there.” His tone leaves no room for discussion or argument.

His hands move to either side your neck, his thumbs brushing the base of your jaw before moving to the first of the buttons that rest there. He undoes each one with painful precision, your arousal growing with each that comes loose.

It seems as though an eternity has passed before the last button comes free. He lowers your hands and pushes the top past your shoulders and down your arms. He sets the top on the empty portion of shelf behind him. As he turns back to face you, he moves your hands to rest on the shelf once more.

He presses a kiss to your left shoulder, leaving a path of searing skin in his wake as he settles his lips at the base of your ear. His fingertips brush across your skin from your hips until both hands come to rest beneath your breasts.

The tightening of your grip where it rests and the shiver that runs through you as he brushes his scarred thumbs across your nipples doesn’t go unnoticed by the spymaster. The cool air of the empty room has formed them into sensitive peaks, and he relishes in the stuttering breaths you let out as he continues the movements of his thumbs.

Azriel’s right hand comes to rest between your breasts as his left moves down your stomach, stopping just short of where he knows you want his hands most.

“Az…”

Your words come out weak, pleading.

His hand undoes the buttons of your pants with expert precision. You can’t help the whimper that escapes as both of his hands leave your body to slide the garment down your legs. He repeats his earlier actions, your pants now resting with your top.

Azriel’s hands find their place once more as he presses your bare form into his fully clothed one, the friction causing another shiver to rake over your body.

His left hand continues its previous path downward until his fingers brush against the most sensitive part of you. It’s his turn to let out an involuntary groan at what his hand is met with.

“So wet for me already Y/N. I’ve barely touched you…are you that desperate for me?”

Rather than give him a response, your body does its best to grind against his hand, searching for some form of friction. His right hand tightens where it rests on your sternum, halting your movements.

“You’ll have to do better than that Y/N. Use your words…tell me exactly what you need.”

His lips are pressed to your ear, his voice so deep it is the accelerant to the fire raging within you.

It takes a moment for you to respond, your words coming out broken.

“I need you…I need you inside me, Az. Now.”

Your words pull him from the haze of his arousal. Very rarely do the two of you move forward without some form of preparation to make the experience more enjoyable for you. Azriel isn’t ignorant to his size, he is acutely aware of the discomfort he has unintentionally caused you in the past. Very rarely does your need outweigh the pain you feel as you adjust to him.

“Be sure Y/N. Please.” His words are desperate, the need to have your intention clear necessary for him to move forward.

You turn in his grip, bringing your hands to rest on his chest as you meet his eye. Your left hand raises to rest against his jaw, your next words giving him the reassurance you know he needs.

“I’m sure Az…I want every inch you have to give me.”

Your hands become desperate, reaching to undo the buttons beneath each of his wings. Azriel can’t help but let out a low laugh as you struggle to pull his shirt from his body. He grasps your wrists and places them on his waist before reaching overhead and pulling the garment off himself. He tosses it to the side, all the care he showed your clothes has been thrown into the Sidra.

He looks down and watches as you pull his zipper down, his breath hitching as you sink to your knees before him, the sight never failing to bring out his base desires. He steps out of his pants when they reach his ankles. His hands move to cover yours where they grip at his thighs when they start to move.

“You’re not the only one that needs me inside you, Y/N.” His voice is gravel, almost pained as he pulls you to stand once more. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth in the beginning of a pout.

“It’s your birthday Az, this is about you.”

His hands encase either side of your neck with a firm grip, ensuring you hear every word he has to say.

“If it’s about me then it’s about you.” His voice goes impossibly deep with his next words. “You should know by now that nothing gets me off quite like the sounds you make as you cum around my cock.”

He says nothing more before he captures your lips with his own and lifts you into his arms. He parts from you just long enough to brush his cock through your folds, lining himself up. You both let out a low groan as he pushes into you, your head falling back against the bookshelf and his coming to rest against your chest.

Azriel doesn’t dare move, savouring the moment. Your hands brush back the hair that has fallen over his forehead, tilting his face up to meet yours. You both refuse to break the eye contact as he draws his hips back and moves them forward once more, working himself deeper.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and he can see your eyes begin to water as he bottoms out inside you. His heart breaks at the sight, but you don’t give him a single second to fall into self-deprecation as you pull his lips to meet yours.

The kiss is different than the last, it’s fueled by care and adoration. A love so deep neither of you can quite comprehend it most days.

Azriel tucks his head against your neck as you tighten your arms around his shoulders, his lips paying special attention to the spot just beneath your ear that has you clutching him, your nails surely leaving marks.

His first movements are slow, measured. He plays you like a song that he has practiced his entire life, knowing just what you need. It’s when you bring your forehead to rest against his that he knows you need more, knows you want him to give you everything he can.

His pace becomes burning, pulling sounds from you that would have him offering up whatever he needed in order to hear them just one more time.

“That’s it Y/N/N.” He pulls out to the tip before beginning to push back in, painfully slow. His pace quickening again as he snaps his hips into yours. “I want to hear you take every inch like the good girl that you are.”

It’s his words that send you barreling into an orgasm that has you seeing stars. His right hand moves to circle your clit, causing you to cry out as he carries you through your release. Your left hand grips his forearm, attempting and failing to halt his movements.

“Az, please…”

Your words are more desperate than he knows you wish them to be. Azriel gradually slows his movements, and he can feel your body coming back from the over-stimulation. He doesn’t give you time to fully recover as he moves to lay you down on the couch that is centred in front of the dormant fireplace.

Azriel takes a moment to admire the sinful beauty of you beneath him, it’s a sight that he commits to memory each time he is graced by it.

Your hands grip his biceps as he lowers himself to hover above you, his arms resting on either side of your head. His lips meet yours in a kiss that is nothing short of devastating. He pushes every bit of need he has for you down the bond, ensuring you know he is worshipping before his chosen altar.

He hooks his left arm under your knee, raising your leg and pushing himself even deeper inside you. He relishes in the expression that passes over your features at the new angle. Your body is pliant under his, ready to take whatever he gives you.

Azriel doesn’t have many words to say but he wishes he could give every last one to you in this moment. Wishes he could find the words to properly describe the effect you have on him, his feelings so consuming it terrifies him.

A squeeze on his forearm pulls him from his thoughts, he glances up to meet your questioning expression.

“Care to tell me what has that beautiful mind of yours thinking so hard?” Your words are gentle, barely coming out above a whisper.

Azriel brushes his thumb along your jaw.

“Nothing you don’t already know.” He smiles to himself. “Just that I am hopelessly, endlessly, devastatingly in love with you.”

“Keep talking like that, Shadowsinger and I won’t even need you to move. Your voice is all I need.”

“Then maybe I shouldn’t be doing this.” He pulls out to the tip and pushes back in, hitting every last spot that has you clenching around him and arching your chest into his. “Or this.” He leans down, closing his mouth on your pulse point, leaving his mark on you. “And I really shouldn’t be doing this either.” His mouth resumes its position, and his fingers start moving over your clit in the way only he knows how.

“But we both know it doesn’t matter what I do when I’m the only that can have you like this, the only one that can give you what we both know you’d beg for.” His fingers stop their movements, leaving you to clench around him, wordlessly begging for him to do something, anything. The sound that comes from you at the loss is nothing short of primal, so involuntary Azriel can’t stop the pride that washes over him.

He starts moving again, varying his pace until he finds the one that has your head falling back onto the couch and the nails of your left hand digging into his back, just below where his wing meets his skin. Azriel can’t help the moan that leaves him, the scrape of your nails only heightening the euphoria beginning to consume him.

Your right hand blindly grabs for the hand he has anchored next to your head. He interlaces his fingers with your own, your knuckles turning white with the force of your grip, desperate to maintain your hold on him.

“Fuck, Az…don’t stop.” He can barely hear the words as you choke them out, each sounding more strained than the last. “Plea...please.”

You’re close; he can hear it in your breathing and feels it in the way your body tenses, as though you’re a rope about to snap.

He doesn’t let up in his pace, even though he can feel himself barreling toward his own release. Azriel is determined to hold out long enough for you to fall over the edge first.

“Such good manners.” Azriel grips the back of you neck with his right hand, forcing your eyes to open and meet his. The expression across his face has you letting out a whimper, the fire in his eyes unmistakeable. “But what did I say about telling me exactly what you want Y/N? Use your words.”

He can see you struggle to form the words, so lost in your pleasure it takes more than one try for them to cross your lips.

“Please, Az, I want to…need to cum on your cock.”

Your words break the last of his resolve. His hand moves from your neck to resume its movements on your clit, moving against it slowly, in such stark contrast to the burning pace set by his hips.

The dual sensations have you crying out and Azriel responds in turn, with a needy groan falling from his own lips.

He leans down and places his lips against your ear, his voice sinful as he whispers the exact words you need.

“Then do that for me, love…cum for me.” His fingers quickening their pace only slightly.

That all it takes for your vision to flash white, your orgasm ripping through you with such delicious ferocity. You can’t help the trembling of your thighs as Azriel’s pace doesn’t slow, drawing sounds from you that only he’s ever been able to do.

His release quickly follows your own as he bites down on your neck, pushing his hips harshly into yours as he cums. You can feel him tremble under your touch as you cling to him, the reaction a direct contrast to the deep moans coming from him.

Azriel’s thrusts slow, anchoring you both as you come down from your respective highs. The sound of your combined releases nearly sending you into a third orgasm.

Azriel isn’t sure how long it takes for your respective breaths to even out. All he knows as he stares down at the look of pure bliss on your face is that he will never get used to this, will never stop wanting to be the one that gets to see you like this.

He waits a few more moments before slowly pulling out of you, a small gasp leaving your lips at the loss. Azriel rests his head on your chest, giving himself a moment to truly come down from his high.

Your hand brushes the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, a truly contented smile forming as he lifts his head and closes his eyes with the movement of your hand.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments before the clock that sits on the fireplace mantel gives out an almost silent chime.

“It’s midnight…Happy Birthday Azriel.” You whisper the words, sending every bit of love you can down the bond. “Hopefully you’re not disappointed with how your day is beginning.”

He leans down to kiss you rather than respond, exploring your mouth with slow precision. When he breaks it his forehead rests against your own.

“When I say this is better than anything I could dream, please believe every word. I thank the cauldron every day for gifting me with you as a mate.” You can tell his next words are said to himself as his eyes search your face. “I will never deserve you.”

“You wish for me to believe your words…believe mine in return.” Your hands grasp either side of his face. “You deserve everything you have, my love. The life you have built, your family, me, all of it.”

He lets out a low hum of acknowledgment, leaning down to kiss you. It’s slow, patient – allowing the both of you to bask in the feeling of each other.

You break from the kiss suddenly, unable to stifle the yawn you let out.

“You’re tired Y/N.”

“No, I’m here, I’m –” Another yawn interrupts your words.

Azriel lets out a low chuckle, shifting so he rests on his side facing you. His wings relax over the edge of the couch, and he allows them to brush the ground rather than devote the concentration to keeping them raised. He reaches over you and pulls the blanket folded over the back of the couch to cover your entwined bodies.

He wraps his arms around your waist and rests your head against his chest.

“Sleep Y/N, you’ll need rest if you’d like us to live out the day you scarred Rhys and Cas with as you described it.”

You smile and let out an amused hum as your eyes begin to close.

“It would be a perfect day, Cas and Rhys be damned.” The words come out in a whisper, and it doesn’t take long for Azriel to hear your breathing leveling out.

He waits long enough to ensure you’re truly asleep before gently untangling himself from you. He looks down as he stands and finds his shadows have returned. They skirt around the bottom of the couch, holding true to their need to keep you safe at every turn.

He silently thanks them, only now realizing just how long your shared family had gone without interrupting the two of you.

Azriel crosses the short space to the bookshelves, retrieving his pants and pulling them on, not bothering to button them as he knows they’ll be on his bedroom floor in a matter of minutes.

He faces the couch once more and pulls the blanket tighter around your form before lifting you into his arms. Even in sleep, you burrow further into his hold, tucking your head tight to his chest.

Azriel can’t help the smile plastered to his lips as he exits the library, vowing to himself that the two of you would be back in this room later in the day, continuing this evening’s activities.

---------

“Where did they go Rhysie?”

Rhysand can hear the pout in Cassian’s voice as he asks the question.

“They didn’t leave the house so I’m sure they haven’t gone far Cas. Don’t worry, we’ll find them.”

He tightens his grip on Cassian’s arm as his massive form sways during their ascent up the stairs.

“We better, they’re too important to me to lose.” His eyes are taking on a glossy glint as he continues. “What if something terrible’s happened?! I’ll kill anyone who dares lay a hand on them!”

It’s in that moment that Rhysand thanks the Mother he insisted they all come unarmed tonight. A drunk Cassian is one matter…an armed drunk Cassian could end in catastrophe.

Rhysand can hear a slight shift from down the hall as they finally reach the top of the stairs. He looks ahead and spots two of the few fae who permanently reside within his heart.

Cassian moves before Rhysand can pull him back. His massive form taking the most ungraceful of steps to reach his friends.

“Thank the gods you’re okay!” Azriel quickly hushes the General, his tone having crossed from its previous whisper to the beginning of his normally boisterous, energetic tone. “I was so afraid something terrible had happened when neither of you came back!”

Azriel eyes dart to Rhysand’s, his eyebrows raising in question. Rhysand shrugs in response, slipping into Azriel’s mind after he lowers his shields.

“He refused to leave until he laid eyes on the two of you, his concern so great he turned down every reassurance I tried to give him.”

“Just how much did he drink?” Azriel’s amusement is evident, no anger imposes on his tone.

“Please don’t make me answer that, he winnowed to the wine cellar before I could stop him. Feyre’s in similar shape but Amren was able to get her home, I clearly haven’t had such luck.”

Azriel nods at his High Lord in understanding and turns his attention to Cas once more.

The stretch of silence has given the General an opportunity to move even closer to the two, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he looks down at Y/N.

“She’s not hurt Cas, she simply sleeps. You wouldn’t want to wake her, would you?”

Cassian shakes his head.

“Can you do me a favour, brother?” Cassian nods in response.

Rhysand can see from where he stands that the expression Cassian gives Azriel is nothing short of one filled with utter love.

“Y/N had a headache earlier today and she misplaced the tonic Majda gave her in the House of Wind after our meeting. Can I trust you to find it for her? It would make her so happy to have it back.”

“For Y/N? Consider it done, brother.” Cassian’s tone is as serious as it is when he walks into battle. The two of you had been close since the moment you met, the General declaring himself your protector.

He stares at Azriel for a moment longer before taking his face in his hands and kissing both of his cheeks. And it’s as he leans down to give Y/N the same treatment that Rhysand finally takes in the scene before him.

He observes Azriel’s half-clothed state and his quick adjustment to the blanket covering you, pulling your body in closer to his own.

Rhys realizes just what he and Cassian have interrupted and curses his less than sober state for not realizing earlier the most obvious reason two mates would slip away at one of their respective birthday celebrations.

“Cas, let’s go find that tonic. We wouldn’t want Y/N to wait any longer than she has to.” Rhysand crosses the short distance and moves to turn Cassina away from the mated pair.

Azriel shoots him a grateful look, his thanks clearly evident.

Cassian allows Rhys to lead him away but abruptly turns back just as they move to descend the stairs.

“Azriel?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Tell Y/N Happy Birthday from me when she wakes up, I want to be the first one to say it.” His smile is beaming at the thought.

“The second she wakes, she will know.” Azriel’s words are filled with amusement, letting out a low laugh at the General’s words.

Cassian gives him a triumphant smile, turning back toward the stairs without another word.

Rhysand gives Azriel one last apologetic look before leading the General down the stairs and past the wards that guard the home.

“Y/N must’ve gotten hot before she fell asleep.”

Cassian’s words have Rhysand pausing.

“What makes you say that, Cas?”

The General’s words fall to a whisper, as though somebody may be listening.

“She didn’t have any clothes on under that blanket. She was in front of a fire and got too warm, Azriel didn’t want us to see so he put the blanket on her, I’m certain of it.”

He speaks like he’s privy to confidential information and has finally chosen to let Rhysand in on it.

Rhysand grips his brother’s arm, giving him an endearing smile as he begins to winnow them to the House of Wind. Cassian’s face conveying unending pride at Rhys' reply.

“You must be right Cas…there’s absolutely no other possible explanation.”

#azriel x reader #azriel #cassian #rhysand #acotar #acotar x reader #night court

616 notes · View notes

jdeclerc · 6 months

Text

Change Your Ticket

Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)

Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian ___ is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,264

Notes: I'm overthinking this now, I don't think I like it

_________________________________________

There’s no better way to wake up than buttery morning light drifting through the curtains, songbirds chirping outside cracked windows, and the warmth of your significant other surrounding you.

Unfortunately, that isn’t how you wake.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm, blaring its cheerful tune much too early in the morning. The sun isn’t shining in through your windows, rousing you from a deep slumber. Instead, thunder cracks loudly, drowning out the grating chimes coming from your phone, only for a second, before it sounds louder, alerting you that you have places to be.

Namely, at the airport, and not in the lovely muscular arms of your boyfriend in bed.

His cozy hold makes you want to sigh, snuggle backwards into him and sleep for a few more hours, but the blaring of your phone makes that difficult, even with the taunt of his morning wood brushing up against your backside.

Groaning, you slide from his arms. It’s a struggle, because his muscular limbs are heavy, but you manage to shove yourself from under the thick arm covered in swirling ink, stretching as far as you can in hopes to turn your phone off.

Another bout of thunder rumbles in the sky and you startle, knocking your phone over the edge of the table. It clangs loudly and you cringe, peering over your shoulder at Cassian. His eyes are shut and his chest moves up and down rhythmically. You sigh, shoulders relaxing at the sight of his bare chest, gaze snaking down his strong body to where the cuts of his hips dip under the sheets. Your mouth waters a little, but before you can make the move to slide the blankets back and get a full look, your phone sends out another screeching knell and you nearly dive from the bed to shut it off.

The time mocks you when the sound no longer does. It’s an ungodly hour and you’re hardly coherent, eyes gritty with sleep and hair curling in tangled waves around your face. You shove it back, collapsing for a moment, half off of the bed.

Warm hands search blindly in the bed before latching onto your waist, tugging you back into his solid body. You squeal as you’re so easily maneuvered, and it makes butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach.

Cassian grunts softly, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck. It’s early and he’s just as disturbed by your phone as he is. Neither of you have slept much at all, and with the warmth of his body holding tightly to yours, you find yourself resting your head against his, shutting your eyes and breathing in the scent of him—a comforting freshness cut with an earthy pine—drifting back into a light slumber.

Your eyes snap open later, something rocking you to your core. Not just something, the flight you’re supposed to be on, at the airport you should be at, sitting in your window seat and missing the body of your boyfriend next to you.

Cursing, you throw the covers back, ignoring the grunt Cassian lets out as you accidentally elbow him in the chest. You lunge for your phone, but it’s not on the side table where you’d left it. Fuck, you remember knocking it off and having to lean over the side of the bed to turn off your goddamn alarm when you should’ve hit snooze. You’re going to pay now; your mind supplies drily.

Frantically searching, you find it in the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor. Lifting your jeans to tug them on, it slips, clattering against the hardwood floors again. You don’t have time to wince, wonder if the screen is cracked, snatching it up and checking the time.

Holy fuck, are you late.

Shoving the phone back into your pocket, you scramble to get ready, tugging a black t-shirt over your head from the mound at your feet. It’s pools around you but you’re in no mood to care, shoving it into the waistband of your pants and stuffing your feet into last night’s socks. You grimace as you do so, the feeling of dirty socks making your toes curl. Switching with Cassian would be better, though they’d be scrunched in your shoes and you’d be tripping over them at the airport.

The sky is still dark with cloud cover, but there is no longer frantic lighttight brightening the sky, nor rumbles of thunder that would have delayed your flight. You haven’t gotten an update about it being late due to the nature of the storm, so it must be on time.

Perfect.

The heap of blankets on the bed jostles, and Cassian’s sitting up. The fabric falls from his torso like a waterfall of white, striking against his tan skin. As much as you’d love to climb right up onto him and wake him properly, you’re in too much of a rush to allow the aroused side of your mind to take over.

“Sweetheart?” he asks sleepily. His hair is mused from where you’d had your hands buried in it last night, and he brushes it from his eyes roughly, using the hair tie around his wrist to tie it back haphazardly. Cassian blinks around the room, hazel eyes clearing as he meets your panic-stricken gaze. “Where are you going?”

“I’m late for my flight,” you reply breathlessly, hopping on one foot to slip your shoe on.

“You’re leaving already?” Cassian asks with a frown. His voice is groggy with the aftermath of sex and sleep. It sends shockwaves zipping down between your thighs. “It’s only been two days.”

You sigh, forcing your other foot into the shoe. You know it’s only been two days since you’ve gotten into town for Cassian’s match, but you have to get back to work tomorrow, there’s just too much to do.

It’s difficult when he’s in the middle of the rugby season and you have to work. It’s hard to find the time to chat or even text sometimes, but the both of you love your work and couldn’t imagine giving it up. You do what you can to be at Cassian’s games. He flies you in privately and you meet at the hotel or the pitch, cheering from the stands with the other fans of the Velairs Stars, Cassian’s rugby team. But then you have to fly back home, only to do it again the next weekend over.

It's draining, which is why you’ve overslept like a damn fool.

“I have to go,” you answer, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Your carry-on sits packed by the door. “I have work in the morning.”

“Take that bag off of your shoulder,” Cassian pouts.

You groan, turning to look at him. “I can’t, Cass, I’m really late.”

Cassian slides from the bed. The duvet slips from his body, revealing the entirety of his naked body. He’s built like a Greek statue, minus the tiny cock. His tan body ripples with muscle and ink—broad shoulders to hard abs to his taut waist, down to thick thighs and a half-hard cock that twitches when your eyes roam over it.

Your cheeks heat and you turn your head away, gazing at the floor.

Cassian’s feet enter your line of vision and then his hands are on your cheeks, tilting your head up to face him.

You stare into those soft eyes, green and brown clashing like a tornado in the woods. His pink lips are turned down, the crease between his brow in concern something you never like to see on his face.

A strand of his hair tickles your cheek as he dips down, thumbs brushing soothing stripes across your skin.

“Please, don’t leave.”

Your heart cracks in your chest at the sincerity of his words. Your body slackens, tipping into his. You place a hand over his wrist, holding him just as he is you, and you let out a deep sigh. “I can’t. I really have to go.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, only tucks you tighter to his chest as if he may never let you go. You press up to the tips of your toes, catching him in a soft kiss. You can taste his yearning, missing you from miles away. The absence of him from your side, from your apartment, preferring your quaint place to his bachelor pad in the thick of the city. He’d disrupted your life in the best way, and it’s different to be by yourself in the place you’d spent so much time alone, before Cassian came rumbling in on a gust of autumn air with trophies the size of your head and rugby uniforms that never seemed to stay clean.

When you pull away you don’t stray far, placing your head on his chest. His heartbeat strums loudly, comfortingly as he places his chin onto you, hugging you tight.

And its bliss, the both of you tucked together like this. You don’t ever want to let him go but this is reality and you both have lives outside of each other, outside of this little bubble of heaven you’ve created for the two nights you were staying here. Cassian feels like coming home.

“At least let me walk you down,” he says finally.

You huff, pulling back to look up at him. He towers over you and you have to crane your neck back to meet his gaze. “As much as I would love that, you can’t. We can’t be seen together,” you remind him softly.

Cassian rolls his eyes, twining his fingers with yours as he leads you into the main room of the suite. It’s a lovely hotel, but eventually, all of the rooms start to blur together. There’s an empty bottle of victory champagne tipped over on the couch, your still half-full glass precariously perched on the edge of the coffee table from when Cassian could no longer control himself and your bubbly, giggly kisses turned into something hotter and heavier.

“I don’t care about any of that stuff, sweetheart. I just want to be able to show you off.”

“Well, I care,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not ready to tell the world yet.”

You spot your bra flung over the lampshade and grab for it, but Cassian’s quicker, taking it and hiding it behind his back with a cheeky grin.

“If you want it back, you’ll have to come get it. Two weeks, we’re playing the Sealions in Adirata.”

“Cassian,” you sigh, trying to reach around his thick torso for your bra. “I don’t know if I can make it—”

“You will,” he says, pecking you on the nose. You glare up at him but he’s grinning like a fool. “I need my best cheerleader there.”

You want to grumble that he never really can find you in the crowd. You don’t sit with the other players’ girlfriends or families because your relationship with the superstar athlete is your best kept secret. You aren’t ready for any of the drama that comes along with dating a public figure, and Cassian knows this, accepts it because he loves you.

“I’ll try,” you amend, and you don’t think his smile can get any bigger but it does. Cassian swoops down to kiss you on the lips. The eagerness takes your breath away and makes you clench your thighs together, his intrigued cock still seeking you out.

“Good,” he seems satisfied with your answer, unhooking the handle and raising it. He scoots your roller out of the way when you go to reach for it, tsking. “Let me help you with this, sweetheart.”

“Cass, we talked about this,” you repeat, “And you can’t go to the lobby buck ass naked.”

His grin is shit-eating.

“What? Afraid you might have to fight for my goods?” he wiggles his eyebrows as you wrench your luggage from his hand.

“Don’t start with this,” you answer, leaning up for one last kiss. “You and I both know that I’ll take anyone down who tries to get a look at what’s mine.”

Cassian hums against your lips, his large hands settling on your hips. “I like it when you act all possessive, sweetheart. Makes me so hard for you.”

You let out a breathless sigh, pressing even further into him, pinning his cock between your hips. Cassian bucks and you clench your thighs together, glaring up at him.

“I don’t have the time for this,” you say, sadly.

Cassian nips at the juncture of your shoulder and throat, already distracted by the sweet scent of the lingering perfume on your skin. He hums and the feeling rakes down your spine, rattling your senses.

“I’ll call you a car,” he says between open mouthed kisses that have you craning your neck to give him more room. “But please come back to bed until it comes.”

You bite your lip. This isn’t a good idea. You’re already late, and who knows how long the lines will be at security or how far your gate is. What if they’re moved up your flight?

But his eyes are just too eager, filled with the promise of one last good dicking down until he sees you again, in two weeks.

“Fine,” you give in. It’s early, maybe Cassian can get you on the next flight instead. He’s already helping you from your clothes, as much as he loves seeing you in them, they look much better on the floor. “But we have to make it quick.”

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jdeclerc · 6 months

Text

He’s trying his best

9K notes · View notes

jdeclerc · 7 months

Text

under autumn's moon

pairing: lucien x reader

summary: having watched you overwork yourself for weeks, Lucien wants nothing more than to spend time with you, even if it is just for one night.

author's note: i may not be a Lucien girl, but my dear friend is, so this one's for her - k, i hope this makes you smile <3

warnings: smut, wrapped in a wonderfully fluffy bow

word count: 3,561

From his position at Y/N’s study door, Lucien can tell that the female has been there much too long. The light from the setting sun is casting shadows across your face, accentuating the fatigue lining your exquisite features.

Over the past weeks he could count the number of times he had spoken more than three sentences with you at a time, on one hand. There had been no late-night talks about each other’s days, no hours-long strolls through the woods surrounding the Forest House.

He missed the sound of your laugh, your lazy smile as you awoke at first light, and, by the Cauldron, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without the feeling of your bare skin under his.

It is the change in his scent as his thoughts venture further into the impure that has you finally looking up, and the tired smile that crosses your face has his heart breaking.

“I think it’s time you take a break, my spark.”

A shake of your head precedes your response.

“I can’t Luce, I just…I can’t.” You throw your hands up in frustration. “I have communications from what seems like every court to respond to, I’m finishing the revisions for our new trade agreement with Day, and now I’m working with Eris to finalize the expansion of our healer apprenticeship program.”

Lucien pushes off the door frame, moving to lean both hands on the chair opposite your desk. He can’t help the anger that laces his voice in that moment, taking a breath before his next words.

“My brother must know how much work lays on your desk and he has the audacity to add something else?! Let me have words with him and I swear to you –”

“He didn’t ask Lucien, I volunteered to help him. He tried to refuse me, and I persisted.”

“I should have known.” He shoots you a grin. “I have always loved your inability to let those you love walk alone.”

“For everything he’s done for Autumn and how hard he works, it’s the least I could do.”

“And you would provide him better help if you took time for yourself. I can’t remember the last time we dined together, and by the number of times I’ve awoken to cold sheets next to me, I know you haven’t been sleeping as much as you need.”

You can’t seem to meet Lucien’s eye and he can see the tears brimming in yours. He rounds your desk, taking the underside of your jaw in his hands and titling your head to look up at him.

“No tears, my love. I can’t begin to describe how proud I am to call you mine. I voice my concerns because it breaks my heart to see you hurt, in any way.”

You lean your head into Lucien’s hand and place yours on top of where it rests.

“It’s not you Luce, I’m tired and my brain is as foggy as the woods at first light.”

“Then please, come with me. I promise it’ll help.” You give him a questioning look and he places his free hand over his heart. “No more than a few hours, I swear.”

You pause for a moment before giving him a small nod, a smile ghosting over your lips.

He reaches out a hand for one of yours, helping you stand from your desk. He tightens his grip on your jaw and leans into you.

Lucien’s lips meet yours and it’s as though the world falls away. The kiss is slow, patient, the both of you savouring the moment.

The two of you break apart and Lucien smiles down at you.

He slips his arm around your waist and gestures toward the open study door.

“Shall we, my love? An adventure awaits us.”

You can’t help but laugh at the mischievous grin he gives you; the male always having been the more spontaneous of the two of you.

----------

As you entered the court stables you immediately see that the horses you both called your own are saddled and at the ready.

“Lucien Vanserra, you are one confident male. How did you possibly know that I would agree to your plans?”

He once again gives you a grin, adding a wink alongside it.

“Call it lover’s intuition, spark.”

You laugh as you approach your mount, running a loving hand along the side of her face.

A specimen of beauty. Pure black but for the mare’s hooves and the streaks winding through her mane, both the deep golden colour that accentuates the Autumn Court’s traditional attire. A gift from Lucien on the first of your name days the two of you had spent together.

Lucien had named her Flint, “just what his spark needed to light the world on fire” he had said. The two of you formed a bond like no other.

You lean you head into the mare’s.

“How I’ve missed you, my girl.”

Flint leans her head into yours, showing she has missed you in equal measure.

“I’ve been taking her out myself, she wanted to be ready for when you returned to her.”

You gave Lucien an appreciative smile as you put your foot in the stirrup and swing your leg. You adjust yourself, settling into the saddle like the second home it is.

“Am I going to have to slow myself down? Let you ease back into it?”

“I’m sure you would enjoy that Vanserra, but you know better than that. Do your best to keep up, won’t you?”

You don’t wait for Lucien’s reply as you take off. You burst from the stable, not willing to wait any longer to feel the cold air rush past you and the freedom of feeling as though you are flying.

---------

You slow Flint to a walk as you reach a clearing in the trees and approach the lookout over the woods surrounding the Forest House.

“I’ll never get tired of this, of home.” Lucien stops beside you, admiring the lands he so desperately missed in the years of his exile.

“No words can quite do its beauty justice.”

“No…no they cannot.”

The tone of his voice has you turning to look at him, finding him already looking in your direction. You can’t help the blush that crosses your cheeks.

“As much as I love this view, this isn’t the place I had in mind for our evening adventure.”

You raise a brow in question.

“Then, by all means, lead the way.”

You gesture for him to go, knowing that whatever he has planned will be spectacular.

Lucien turns and takes off once more, you quickly follow behind.

--------

Lucien comes to a stop in front a thick sheet of hanging vines and dismounts from his horse. He motions for you to do the same. He extends his hand, taking Flint’s reins from you and tying both horses to the tree that sits nearby. He grabs a snack for both from his saddlebag before making his way back over to you.

Putting a hand on your lower back, Lucien leads you to stand in front of the vines. As he lifts them, the air is stolen from your lungs at the sight before you.

The moonlight shines into the clearing through the opening in the trees overhead, its light casting an ethereal glow over the rippling pool at its centre.

The only sound that can be heard is the stream that feeds the pool, as though the outside world has fallen away. The moss that covers the forest floor is soft beneath your feet and is accentuated by the wildflowers growing between the rocks scattered around the clearing.

You feel Lucien’s chest against your back as he comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you. You lay both your hands overtop his where they land on your waist.

You can’t bring yourself to speak above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace that resides here.

“How did you ever find this place?”

“I came upon it a fortnight ago and have been dreaming about bringing you here since.” Lucien kisses you at the joining of your neck and shoulder, marking a path upward until his lips rest against your ear. “The water is quite warm…perfect for a late-night swim.

He moves his hands beneath your tunic, trailing them across your skin. You feel him lean away from you as he gathers the hem in his hands and lifts the garment. You raise your arms and can’t help the shiver that runs over you as the night air hits your bare chest.

You hear your tunic hit the ground as Lucien brings his body flush to yours once more. His hands move to the laces of your trousers, untying them with well-practiced precision. You can hear him sink to his knees behind you. He unzips your riding boots, gently lifting each of your feet before removing them. Lucien works your trousers over your hips, and you step forward, out of them as they reach your ankles, leaving you bare.

You turn around, meeting Lucien’s darkening eyes.

“There truly are no words.”

Without a word you step closer to him, pulling him to stand. You bring your hand to rest on his jaw, his hands coming to encircle your waist once more.

You lean into him, you lips ghosting over his ear.

“Your turn my love.”

You smile at him as you step away. You can feel his eyes trailing you as you step into the pool. The warm water a stark contrast to the crisp night air.

As you reach the middle of the pool, you turn and find that Lucien has not moved.

It’s the desire you know is evident on your face and the change in your scent that has him raising his own shirt above his head and making quick work of his trousers.

You rake your eyes over his broad form, the planes of muscle littered with the scars that tell the story of his upbringing.

Your eyes catch on the tattoo that rests on his left hip and a smile crosses your face, the design perfectly aligning with the one that runs up your right hip. The two of you had gotten them done on the day you committed yourselves to each other. The design a perfect melding of the Autumn and Day Courts, your original birthplace.

As Lucien enters the pool, his eyes don’t leave yours.

He meets you in the middle, grabbing your hands and bringing them around his neck. His arms encircle your waist, pulling you impossibly close, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

“Luce…I’m so sorry.” Your hands take hold on either side of his neck, and you lean back enough to meet his eye. “I’ve missed you every day these past weeks.”

You voice breaks with the end of your sentence. Lucien wipes away the singular tear that escapes.

“Please, my love. You owe me no apology. I fell in love with your dedication to your work long ago and have admired it ever since. Believe me when I say I know it is your work pulling you away from me, and nothing more.”

“I’ve taken on extra work, by choice. It is my own decision-making that has put us both in this position.”

“Whether given to you or taken on by your own actions does not matter. It does not make it any easier to carry. You are allowed to feel the stress and exhaustion, allowed to be affected by it. And should anyone tell you differently, you send them to me, and I will live up to the infamy of my last name. Promise?”

You let out a small laugh as you nod at his words, knowing he truly means every one.

“I’m not sure what I ever did to deserve a male as extraordinary as yourself. I will never stop thanking the Mother for bringing you to me.”

“We walked through a lifetime of pain before coming together. I like to believe that you are finally a gift, the Mother admitting she has put us through enough.”

It’s not often that the two of you speak of your romantic pasts, the pain still evident to this day. You, having lost your mate to the first Great War, watching as she was cut down by Hybern’s forces. And Lucien, who’s mate cleaved herself from him with no thought or remorse, never giving the male a second thought.

Lucien’s words were right, the two of you had fought long and hard to be able to live in the happiness you found in one another.

“I love you, Lucien.”

“And I love you, my spark.”

He closes the distance and kisses you, pulling you so every part of him is against every part of you. His hands roam your body as the kiss turns desperate, hungry.

Lucien’s lips move to your neck, finding the spot that has you letting out a gasp.

His hands skim your hips, and he wraps them around your thighs, lifting you into his arms. You hook your ankles around his waist as he moves you backwards, setting you on the edge of the pool.

Lucien’s lips return to your own as he grips your thighs to spread them further, pushing himself against you. You can’t help the small moan that escapes as you feel just how much Lucien had missed you.

“How I’ve missed that sound.”

His hands skim up your sides. His thumbs brush across your nipples, the night air having turned them to stiff peaks. Lucien’s lips join his hands, his teeth nipping at each of your breasts in turn. He straightens and runs his hands over the marks he created; an artist admiring his latest work.

Lucien’s gaze meets yours as his left hand grips your waist and his right moves down your front with a featherlight touch. His eyes don’t leave yours as he runs two fingers through your folds, your eyes closing and mouth falling slightly open at the feeling.

“And you’ve missed that, haven’t you?” His fingers begin circling your clit, eliciting a small whine from your lips. “You wonderfully insatiable female. I’ve barely touched you and you’re falling apart. Tell me Y/N, who else has this effect on you?”

“No…no one Luce.” Your words come out as more of a breath as Lucien sinks two fingers into you, them curling in just the right way.

“That’s my good girl, you’re mine and only mine.”

He quickens his pace, your moans becoming more desperate. You bite your lip to quiet them. Lucien’s hand moves from your waist to your jaw and his thumb pulls your bottom lip free.

“None of that. I’ve waited too long to hear you fall apart, let me hear you Y/N.”

Your hips begin to lift, meeting Lucien’s hand at every stroke. Your hands tighten their grip on either side of his neck, the both of you knowing you’re quickly barrelling toward an edge.

Lucien suddenly pulls his hand from you and the sound that falls from your lips is almost painful, your peak only moments out of reach.

“Lucien…” Your voice holds a warning.

“I need to feel you Y/N. The only way you’re cumming is wrapped around my cock. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

If anyone but Lucien had heard the desperation in your voice you would have been embarrassed. His commanding words in these moments never failed to cause heat to rush through you, never failing to turn you to malleable clay in his hands.

As you feel him position himself, and push into you the slightest bit, your eyes fall closed once more.

Lucien’s hand comes to grasp the front of your throat, his grip tightening just enough to cause you to look at him.

“Eyes on me. I want to see you fall apart on my cock. I want to watch the very moment I become the only thing that exists for you in this world.”

You manage to nod in response.

Lucien’s pushes into you at a painfully slow pace, as though he is refamiliarizing himself with the feeling of being inside you. He pauses once he’s fully seated within you.

“You are a needy thing, clenching around me already.”

He pulls most of the way out of you before setting a burning pace, his hips meeting yours almost painfully with each thrust. After weeks of not being with each other, the way Lucien is stretching you is intoxicating.

Lucien’s thumb moves to your clit as your moans become louder, the male knowing exactly what you need to reach your peak.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave from the ocean, the look in Lucien’s eyes as he watches you only intensifying the feeling. His hand moves to your waist, but his thrusts slow only marginally, carrying you through each and every aftershock.

“That’s it, spark. Give me everything.”

His movements stop after a few moments, his cock still buried inside you.

“Luce, you didn’t –”

“I didn’t, but are you telling me you’re done? That you can’t handle anymore?” He begins to pull out of you as he speaks.

Your ankles tighten around his waist, halting his movements. You thread your hands into the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him toward you, your lips meet his in a searing kiss.

“I can handle anything you give me Vanserra, I want it all.”

He’s still smiling as his lips meet yours again and he begins to move. Lucien sets a slower pace than before but slides you closer to the pool’s edge, allowing him to reach deeper, hitting a spot inside you that has you gasping each time his hips meet yours.

It doesn’t take long for both of your breaths to become laboured. You can’t help your arms wrapping around Lucien’s shoulders, nails scraping his back as you cling to him.

His hands take hold of your thighs in a bruising grip. This time it’s he who can’t help the groans that pass his lips.

“You were made for me Y/N, so fucking perfect…you’re taking me so well. I can feel that you’re close. Are you going to cum for me love? Grip me so tight, have me fill you up. Is that what you want?”

“Yes…Lucien…please –” Your words are cut off as he brings his hand back to your clit.

Lucien captures your lips with his, swallowing your cry as you cum. You break away, needing the air as he doesn’t stop his movements on your clit.

It takes only a moment for him to find his own release, a cry of his own coming out of him as he buries his face in you neck. His thrusts become begin to falter and the sound of both of your release combining has you choking back a moan.

You bring your hand to rest on the back of his head as he slows his movements. Neither of you speak at he stills, basking in the feelings still coursing through you both.

Without a word and without pulling out of you, Lucien picks you up and moves you both back into the centre of the pool. He lowers until only your chests are above the water and Lucien begins to gently sway back and forth.

He meets your eye with a searching gaze.

“How are you feeling?”

“A little sore.” You can see the concern instantly cover his expression and you are quick to correct any assumption he made. “In the best way possible, I promise. I wouldn’t trade tonight for anything.”

You pour all of the love you have for Lucien into the kiss you give him. It doesn’t turn desperate as it did earlier, you both relish in the love that exists between you for several minutes.

It’s Lucien who breaks from you first.

“I promised to only steal you away for a few hours, I should be getting you back to your study.”

You pick up on the sadness that laces his tone, your thumb brushing along his jaw.

“I think I can step away for one night…I want to wake up with you Lucien, I want you to make love to me as the sun floats through our bedroom windows.”

He kisses you once more.

“I would love nothing more.” He brushes his nose against yours. “Shall we head back to the Forest House?”

“Not right now…can we stay here for a while longer?”

“We can do anything you’d like, my love.”

“Thank you…for everything. Thank you for being understanding, for always standing by my side.”

“I will always be here. Always.”

“I love you, Lucien.”

“I love you Y/N, more than you could ever know.”

You smile at him before resting your head on his shoulder.

The two of you fall silent. The movement of the water as Lucien continues to sway is the only sound that makes its way into the clearing.

For the first time in weeks your thoughts aren’t filled with a checklist of your endless duties. Your mind is calm.

You think only of the love between you and the male holding you.

You allow that love to bring you peace. Silently vowing to never again lose sight of the gift that is having Lucien Vanserra in your life.

#lucien x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien #acotar #acotar x reader #autumn court

57 notes · View notes

jdeclerc · 7 months

Note

has anyone requested a prompt for hunt yet? if you don’t have any currently in the works, i think 15, 16, 17, and B could be a fun combo for him. i just feel like he’d be so dominant and protective and quick to anger, especially if you deliberately made a risky decision or knowingly put yourself in danger 😮‍💨

i am absolutely eating these prompts up, you kill it every time <3

Always Yours

Hunt Athalar x Reader

a/n: the crescent city boys are so underrated :(. Requests are open still!! And thank you anon ❤️❤️

nsfw under the cut. (18+ please)

B: dom/sub dynamics

15: “Keep your mouth shut.” “Make me.”

16: “Wanna act like a brat? You can get fucked like a brat.”

17: “You like when I fuck you dumb?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I just don’t understand why you’re so worked up over it,” you said to your mate as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around yourself.

“Are you fucking serious?” Hunt looked at you incredulously from where he leaned against the bathroom counter. “You could’ve fucking died, y/n!”

“But I didn’t.”

“That’s not the point.”

You shrugged. “I would’ve done it again.”

Hunt laughed bitterly. “You don’t get it, do you? You could’ve died.”

You glared at him, face heating in anger. “How many times have you put yourself in unsafe situations for me? For your other loved ones? For random fucking people?”

You scowled as he went silent. He always did that to prevent your arguments from escalating. Neither of you wanted to say something you didn’t mean in the spur of the moment.

You didn’t mean the words, but you were so frustrated that they came out anyways:

“Of course. Shut down. It’s what you always do.”

Hunt’s expression hardened. “Keep your mouth shut.”

“Make me.”

Hunt was across the bathroom, pinning you against the wall before you could process what had happened. His wings were splayed widely behind him, his face devoid of any warmth. “You wanna act like a brat, huh?”

Hunt pulled away the towel that was wrapped around your body, before removing the the one around his waist. “Then you can get fucked like a brat,” he said, before lifting you against the wall, one of his arms wrapped around you.

A part of you was still pissed at him, but it waned quickly as he suddenly thrust into you, giving you almost no time to adjust as he pulled out almost fully, before slamming into you again.

“F-Fuck, Hunt,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders as your legs tightened around his waist.

Hunt buried his face in your neck, sucking harshly at the soft skin. “Remember who you fucking belong to,” he growled, biting the sensitive spot below your ear.

Your cunt pulsed around him at the possessiveness in his voice. “I’m yours—oh—always yours,” you stumbled over your words as he pounded into you, one of his hands circling your clit.

“You like when I fuck you dumb, sweetheart?”

A barely audible ‘yes’ fell from your lips as you clung helplessly to his form. Your body began quivering as your release approached. “Hunt, oh, fuck, I’m so close.”

“Yeah? Come on my cock, sweetheart,” Hunt said, groaning as your cunt convulsed around him.

Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm rolled through you, Hunt’s grip on your hips being the only thing keeping your from falling to the ground.

Hunt cursed as he reached his peak, painting your walls with his release. He continued holding you, carrying you from the bathroom to the bed.

You sighed, visibly relaxing as you laid back. You opened you eyes to see Hunt still towering over you.

“Don’t get too comfy, sweetheart. I’m not finished with you.”

159 notes · View notes

jdeclerc · 7 months

Text

meet my eye & vow to be true

pairing: cassian x reader

summary: what is sent through the bond is sacred, the most honest of all things - isn't it?

author's note: based on a request made by @horneybeach1, the first one i have ever received - i hope i did your request justice, and i apologize for the delay <3

warnings: brief description of injuries

word count: 2,789

As you pull your blade from the body in front of you, the nameless male falling to the ground, you see the end. The end of the carnage that has filled this camp for countless hours before the sun began its descent in the sky.

All that surrounds you now is the slow movements and utter quiet of the army that had defeated those laying at your feet. A combined Night and Autumn Court unit, formed for the destruction of one of the last of Hybern’s holdouts.

You instinctively begin searching for your family, scanning the area around you for some reassurance of their safety. You had seen Azriel and your mate hours before, both with their siphons ablaze, carving a path through your enemies.

In the time since, you had tugged at the bond, seeing to the safety of your mate. Cassian responded to each of your tugs with one of his own, conveying what you needed from him; he was safe and unharmed.

You had only caught glimpses of the other members of the Inner Circle and knew you would only settle once you had seen for yourself that they were safe.

It doesn’t take long for you to realize that none of them remained close, you had ended up on the far edge of the battle, one of the last areas to cease fighting. It is your name that pulls you from your forming list of possible locations of your family.

“Lady Y/N, what a relief! When you didn’t show up at the healers’ tent everyone became worried. The High Lord sent us in search of you.” It is one of Cassian’s captains approaching you. Thalien, a loyal male you had known for centuries.

“The healers’ tent?” You give him a puzzled look. “Why would you expect me to be there?”

“The entire Inner Circle is gathered ‘round it, no one knows any exact details about what happened to him.”

“Thalien, out with it. Who is so injured that it has the entire leadership of our court concerned?” The worry and anger replacing your curiosity leaks into your response and has the captain stumbling over his words.

“It’s…I thought you would have known…The General M’Lady, he was injured during the battle. No one knows how long it was before he was found.”

“Anything else?” Your words are grated, anger moving solely to the forefront of your emotions.

“That is all I know, I swear it.”

Although you know the captain is not at fault, you can’t help the look of contempt you throw his way as you take off past him without another word.

----------

Nesta is the first you see as the healers’ tent comes into view. You can tell by the way she steps into your path and raises her hands that your emotions can be clearly read.

“Y/N…he needs calm. They’re doing everything they can for him. Wait out here with us, it’ll be better that way, I promise.”

“Nesta…please.” Your voice breaks as you say the words.

You can tell by the way she looks at you that she knows there is no stopping your entering of the tent. She exchanges glances with her sisters, Mor, and Amren, all remaining vigil with her outside of the tent. After a moment Nesta steps to the side, the two of you having always understood the stubbornness of the other.

You move past her and pass through the opening of the tent. As it closes behind you, your breath is stolen form you.

Cassian, the imposing force of a mate that he is, is laying unconscious on a table in the center of the tent. His wings having fallen slack on either side, resting on the dirt floor. Blood covers the floor surrounding the table and you trace it to a wound on his abdomen so massive it would have meant death for any one other than an Illyrian.

The upper half of his leathers has been removed. Madja and several other healers work in tandem in what could only be described as controlled chaos.

You feel a hand grip your elbow and you realize for the first time that Azriel and Rhysand stand inside the tent with you.

You meet both of their eyes and see your worry reflected back at you. Rhysand knows the question that lays in your eyes and moves to put his arm around your waist.

“He was found in the woods; it would appear he was going after a group of fae being held captive. From what we gathered the men holding them captive ambushed Cas…they’re weapons laced with faebane. We don’t know how long he had been out there before he was found.”

You gave him a silent nod, doing everything you could to keep your tears at bay.

“What of the captured fae?”

“Already on their way to Velaris, Eris has also offered them sanctuary should they choose it.”

Venom leaks into your voice with your next question.

“And the men?”

It is Azriel who answers as he comes to stand at your other side and brings his arm across your shoulders.

“They’re dead. Somehow Cas remained conscious long enough to tear them down, allowing the captured fae to escape.”

You expect no less from your mate. His heart had always been his greatest attribute, his role as protector outweighing all others he donned.

The three of you fall into a tense silence, clinging to each other as you watch the one male you never thought you would see fall fight for his life.

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You aren’t sure how much time passes before Madja steps back and approaches the three of you.

“He is a fighter; he is only still with us because he willed it.” She meets your eyes and ensures you hear her words. “Your General will rise and fight another day. Give him time, he will wake.”

You can’t help the tears that fall with your next words.

“There are no words of thanks I can give you Madja that would repay what you’ve done today.”

“Your thanks would be wasted on me, my dear. You lot are more important to me than you could ever know…no matter how neglectful you all are in following my advice.” She pins the three of you with a glare but can’t help the small smile that crosses her face.

You return her smile, knowing that she is a vital part of the foundation on which your family stands.

A moment of silence falls between the four of you before you find the courage to ask her your small hope, grasping Madja’s hands in your own as you voice it.

“Can we…can we bring him home? He’ll want to be at home when he wakes.”

Madja glances behind her at your mate and you can see her considering her answer before she voices it.

“For you, my dear Y/N, I will make it so. Give us time to prepare him.”

---------

Cassian can hear the questions Rhys is asking Madja about his recovery, can hear the shit Az is giving him about letting mere mortals get the best of him, but all he can focus on is his mate. His strong, fearsome, beautiful mate, standing at the edge of their bedroom like a stranger, as though she doesn’t belong right by his side.

He has been looking past his brothers and the healer since he awoke, hoping to catch your eye. Only when Madja ends her examination, and you offer to escort her out do you finally meet his gaze. What he sees in your eyes outweighs any physical pain he has ever experienced.

He watches the door as it closes behind you, feeling nothing as he reaches out to you through the bond.

“Cas, she’s –”

“Az, don’t. I’m the one that fucked up, she has every right to feel how she does.”

“And how exactly did you fuck up brother? By almost getting killed?”

“I lied…through the bond.”

Both males fell silent, waiting for Cassian to continue.

“We had been sending waves through the bond throughout the battle, making sure the other was safe. After…After what happened, happened, I may not have let her know the extent of my injuries.”

“You made her think everything was fine, didn’t you?” Cassian’s failure to respond was answer enough. “You absolute dickhead, how foolish can you be? I could kill you myself, I certainly wouldn’t blame Y/N if she did.”

Rhys let out a low whistle from where he stood, his eyebrows raising higher than Cassian has ever seen them do so before.

His expression hardened a moment later.

“Never have I seen Y/N so terrified Cassian. For three days she hasn’t left your side, no matter how often we begged her to eat, to sleep. You’re right, you fucked up. Fix this or injuries inflicted by mortals will be the least of your problems.” The room began to darken with each word spoken by the High Lord. “Do. You. Understand. Me?”

Cassian could do nothing but nod, words failing him.

The two males gave him a look of disdain and turn to leave.

“Will you two at least help me up so I can find her?”

---------

It doesn’t take long for Cassian to find you.

The library at the House of Wind had always been the place you found solace. You found peace within the stacks of books.

He comes upon you in the furthest corner of the library, returning a book and undoubtedly searching for a new one.

Cassian knows by the whitening of your knuckles around the book you are holding that you hear him approach.

“Y/N/N, I know –”

“Cassian, don’t.” The anger in your voice is anchored by the tears he sees in your eyes as you look up at him. “There is nothing you could say that would excuse what you did. So please, do us both a favour and go back to bed. Then maybe you’ll actually be okay the next time you tell me you are.”

“Let me explain.”

“Explain what? How you used what connects us at our cores to deceive me? Or how you almost died, alone, in the woods because of your refusal to tell me the truth?” Cassian can’t help but recoil at your words, knowing each one is truer than the last. “There is no explanation you could give that is good enough. No reassurance you could give me that what you did was right. Leave, now, for both our sakes.”

As you turn away from him, he can’t help but reach for you, letting out a cry of pain as he does, having overextended his injuries.

Your hands are at his sides in an instant, helping him remain stable.

“You damn fool. You’ve likely undone Madja’s work, and you’ve only just woken up.”

Cassian can’t help but hold his breath as you begin to undo the buttons of his shirt; the two of you having been in this exact position under very different circumstances.

You both grow quiet as your hands skirt across his abdomen, checking the state of his bandages, refusing to meet his eye the entire time.

You let out a disapproving noise, “You’ve split your stitches. Our bathroom…now.”

You put his arm across your shoulder as you lead him out of the library and up the stairs.

---------

Cassian settles on the bathroom vanity as you gather the first aid supplies you both decided long ago to keep close at hand.

You step between his legs as you bring a cloth to clean the blood from his wound. He can tell that even in your anger you are as gentle as you can be.

And it’s your quiet apologies as you fix the stitches he tore, that he realizes it’s not your anger he should concern himself with.

Cassian grabs your hands to halt your movements.

“Y/N, please. You can yell, scream, say whatever vulgar words I undoubtedly deserve, but please, my love, at least look at me.”

You don’t make any movement, Cassian takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your face upwards, so your eyes meet his. He finds no trace of anger, finds nothing but immense pain. His next words come out broken, barely above a whisper.

“Talk to me…please.”

Cassian watches as your eyes search his.

“I was so scared, I thought…I thought I’d lost you.” Your voice breaks and he can see you give yourself a moment before you continue. “The thought of losing you steals the breath form my lungs, turns my world black. You were okay, you told me you were okay, and then I see you on that table…”

You choke back a sob as Cassian’s hands come to settle on either side your neck, resting his forehead against yours.

“What do you feel Y/N?”

Your hands come to rest atop his.

“Your hands, the…the callouses from training.”

“Good, what do you smell?”

“You, my mate. The coolness of the winds coming off the Illyrian mountains, and the crackling embers of the fire inside the cabin.”

“And what do you feel?”

“Safety and love, my home.”

“I am here Y/N, I am real. I’m not going anywhere, not now and not any time soon if I have anything to do with it. I will fight the Mother, the Cauldron, anyone, or anything to stay by your side.” He pulls back enough to look directly into your eyes. “I will spend the rest of our days showing you how truly sorry I am. I swear to you, never gain will I use our bond to deceive you. Never.”

You both wince at the same time with the voicing of his vow. Cassian watches as the mark appears on his lower sternum, knowing the same is appearing on you.

“Cauldron boil me, that definitely could have waited until my other injuries healed.”

You both let out a small laugh at his words.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not angry, you have a lot of groveling ahead of you General.”

“Hmmm…trust me when I say I will be on my knees before you the first chance I get.”

Cassian leans forward and captures your lips with his, quickly deepening the kiss as he leans your head back.

You rest your hands on his thighs and press further into him. Cassian breaks the kiss with a hiss of pain.

You’re quick to check him over, worrying about causing him further pain. Cassian once again takes you hands in his and leans in to kiss you again, pulling away a few moments later.

“As much as I would enjoy continuing our current activity, I think Madja was right when she said I need rest. Lay with me?”

You look up at him though your lashes as you give him a nod. You keep a hand on his arm as he stands from the vanity, and you help him slowly make his way to your bed. Helping him settle against the headboard.

“You know, if I could, you would be on top of me, gripping the headboard…it’s oh so lonely here by myself.”

“You’ll just have to make it up to me some other time, now, won’t you?”

He makes sure the look he gives you shows that he means to live up to your challenge.

“Let me change and I’ll join you.”

He gives you a small smile as you enter your shared closet and can’t help but push love and adoration down the bond when you emerge in the red silk pajamas he had gifted you on your latest name day.

Cassian watches as you grab your book off your nightstand and settle into your side of the bed.

“Read to me?”

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It isn’t the first time Cassian has asked this of you, and you know it won’t be the last. He had said once that your voice brought him comfort like nothing else. The wonder in which you fell into books being his favourite.

You motion for him to rest his head in your lap. He moves as slowly as possible, wincing only once as he settles his wings on either side of you.

You brush your hand through your mate’s hair and stare down at him, giving him the most loving of smiles, him giving you one of his own in response.

You lean down, ghosting your lips across his forehead and begin reading, watching as he quickly falls into a much-needed sleep.

You realize, in that moment, that your anger has dissipated, knowing nothing is as valuable as moments such as these with your mate.

The General needn’t know of this realization though.

For he is oh, so good at earning your forgiveness.

#cassian x reader #cassian #acotar #acotar x reader #night court #autumn court

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