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quinzzelx · 10 days

Text

Eros

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Well....How do I put this. This is Porn with Plot. Filth, with a bit of an unhinged story. You're on a mission with Azriel. After an ambush, you get into a fight and find yourselves to be captured by some sick people. Word Count: 11K

Warnings: Smut, pure FILTH, a bit Angsty, Slight Dub!Con, Voyeurism, Canon typical Violence, blood, Mentions of Sex-trafficking, some type of sex pollen/potion, forced intimacy, porn with plot, 18+

A/N: Guys, I swear that I DID SEE the voting turned out to be Fluff, and I will be posting that one soon. BUT- please only read this if you feel comfortable with darker tones. I had to get this out here. Jeez, enjoy. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Sometimes, bad things happen. In fact, they occur all too frequently, by all the gods' reckoning. Azriel could swear he attracted bad luck like a magnet. But this? He cursed under his breath, feeling as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him.

He groaned, frustration evident as his hand ran down his face. Of all times for misfortune to strike, it had to be while he was on a mission with you. "What?" You snapped at him, your eyes squinted in concentration as you struggled to fix the sheath of your dagger. With a huff of frustration, the dagger and its sheath fell to the ground, clinking and scattering. You muttered something under your breath, wincing as you shifted on the log you were perched upon.

Azriel paced in the small forest clearing, muttering to himself. "For fuck's sake, Rhys!" he shouted inwardly, though it proved futile. Hours had passed since he first attempted to reach Rhys, to no avail. Either they were too far away or something was interfering with the connection. "I can't reach Rhys."

You snorted at his statement, rolling your eyes. "No shit, Azriel. If you could, he'd be here by now." His jaw clenched, his narrowed eyes landing on your hunched form still seated on the log in the center of the clearing. They trailed over your injured left wing, twisted at an unnatural angle. With an irritated twitch of his upper lip, his scowl deepened.

"If you had paid attention while flying, we wouldn't be in this mess," he said, his tone harsher than intended.

"Excuse me?" Enraged, you stood up and marched toward him, your face contorted in anger, a slight limp accompanying each step. "I got shot by a damn Asharrow coated in Faebane!"

"Exactly!" He snarled, taking another step to close the distance between you. "How did that even happen?" A humorless laugh escaped you as you met his gaze. "Are you serious?"

When his expression only hardened, your anger resurfaced. "Oh, you really are serious!" You swallowed the lump in your throat, closing the distance between you and jabbing a pointed finger at his chest angrily. "You!" you hissed between gritted teeth. "If you had actually listened when I said I needed a break, I might have been able to pay more attention!"

In fact, you had asked for a break numerous times. However, the group you were tracking didn't seem to consider breaks necessary. They had been abducting young females and males all over Prythian for months. When they crossed into the borders of the Night Court and ambushed a small village, Rhysand had dispatched you two immediately. Several days had already passed since you crossed into Winter, and now you were venturing into Autumn territory.

Azriel growled lowly, catching your wrist with his hand to prevent you from stabbing at his chest again. "You obviously shouldn't have come on this mission then," he said, his voice as cold as ice. For some reason, Azriel was always harsher with you. You had tried, really tried to make him warm up to you, but this thick-headed male infuriated you like no one else. There had been a time when you would have called him a close friend, someone you could confide in.

You had met Cassian and Rhys in Windhaven on the day they first established that Wingclipping was forbidden and never to be done again. You had always found ways to avoid it, making yourself sick with different herbs and mushrooms, because for whatever reason and little morals the Illyrians held, they didn't want to clip a sick female's wings. The irony was beyond you, but it worked for some decades. That day, your uncle had found you preparing the mixture that made you sick and unleashed his wrath upon you. He had dragged you outside by your hair while you thrashed and clawed at him, begging him to let you keep your wings, pleading for mercy.

As if the Mother had heard your pleas, Rhys and Cassian arrived just as a group of men were holding you down to make an example out of you. Taking advantage of their temporary distraction, you kicked up at the jaw of your uncle holding you down, breaking it. He howled in agony, clutching at the broken bone. One of his friends tried to punch you then, but you dodged him, elbowing him in the gut and headbutting him when he fell to his knees.

In that moment, you probably looked like the personification of pure fury, blood dripping from your split lip, broken nose, and dislocated shoulder. Still, you fought, not only breaking these men's frail egos but also their weak bones. Rhysand was angry, standing tall and making a strong example out of their behavior, executing them for their act of treason and hurling insults at him. He was the High Lord, and no one was to disobey his orders. Cassian tended to you, helping with your shoulder and beaming proudly at you. He started training you from that day on. They had seen your sheer willpower, strength, and potential. And potential indeed. These days, you wore not one, but three siphons. Yes, you still weren't as powerful as Cassian or Azriel, but you weren't weak either. The average Illyrian had nothing on you.

They soon took you to Velaris with them, where you quickly found yourself becoming one of Mor's best friends. Azriel was always wary around you, distant at first. But for years, you had enjoyed talking to each other. Only in the past four had he become distant again, seemingly even disliking you and your company. And you found yourself becoming resentful too. You could have lived with it if you never got along in the first place, but this sudden change made you angry at yourself for ever having a crush on this stupid male in the first place!

"Fuck you, Azriel!" you spat at him, your head red with anger. Both of you had been flying for three days straight, resting only twice. You had only spotted the arrow at the last moment, dodging it just as it was about to strike your head. But despite your efforts, it found its mark, lodging right into your shoulder. A second arrow followed swiftly, tearing through one of your wings. The pain was excruciating, and a strong gust of wind threw you off balance, causing you to crash into Azriel with full force, sending both of you plummeting towards the ground. Azriel momentarily lost his bearings, only regaining focus when you hurtled past him. With powerful beats of his wings, he caught up to you and wrapped you in his arms, but it was too late to slow the momentum. Together, you crashed through the trees, branches tearing at your skin before slamming into the unforgiving ground.

"I'm just saying that maybe Rhys has overestimated your capability," he stated nonchalantly, lowering his gaze to meet yours. Ripping your hand away from his grasp, you shoved at his chest, your voice snarling with rising anger. "Yes, I'm sorry to burden you. Maybe next time I'll just free-fall and accept death with open arms."

Without thinking, anger consuming him, Azriel growled, "Maybe you should." Any retort you had died in your throat. Wide-eyed and shocked, you took a step back, and only then did he realize the gravity of his words. His own eyes widened, filled with regret as he reached out to you, flinching when you dodged him and hurried to retrieve your dropped dagger. "Wait—I—" he called out, stepping toward you, desperate to take back his words. He cursed himself as tears pricked at your eyes. "No, I understood perfectly," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. With one swift motion, you shouldered your bag and walked toward the opposite treeline.

Azriel's heart clenched as he called your name again, pleading for you to wait, to let him apologize and take back his words. But you cut him off, saying, "I'll scout the surroundings, see if I can find anything useful," before disappearing into the woods. He cursed himself once more, sending some of his shadows after you. Splitting up was dangerous, especially when enemies were nearby. Defeated, Azriel sank onto the log you had occupied earlier, sighing heavily as he buried his head in his hands. "Rhys," he spoke again, reaching out to his brother, "We were ambushed, and I messed up." As he sat there, waiting, his hazel eyes scanning the darkening sky, he cursed himself again.

A while later, a twig snapped to his right, and his head whipped around. Had you finally returned? His shadows frantically warned of danger. Standing up, he gripped Truthteller tightly, ready to face whatever came his way.

"Behind you!" his shadows screamed, but before he could react, a blunt object struck his head, and a syringe found its way into his neck. With a grunt, he collapsed to the ground.

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Something was definitely amiss. Azriel's senses felt muddled, his consciousness drifting in and out like waves against a shore. Hadn't he just been... flying? No, he was on a mission. Flying, no, falling. A groan escaped his lips as dizziness overwhelmed him. He attempted to rub a hand over his face to clear his thoughts, but something restrained his wrists, pulling against his movements with a metallic clink. Groggily, he tried to pry his eyes open, but they felt heavy, weighted down by an impenetrable darkness. Panic stirred within him as he struggled against his bindings, the realization sinking in that he was not where he should be. Where was he? And more importantly, where were you? His brows furrowed in frustration as he tugged on his other arm, only to find it chained as well.

"Fuck!." Whipping his head around, an alarming feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. Surveying his surroundings, he noted the darkness but discerned the wooden floor. Good, this meant he was either in a village or some kind of building. His arms were chained to the ground next to his body, where he sat leaning against the wall. Confusion swept over him when he realized his legs were relatively free to move. Chains wrapped around his ankles, but the chain was longer. He surmised he could walk around the whole room if he wasn't anchored to the ground by his arms.

His eyes continued to sweep through the dark room, gradually adjusting to the dimness as he squinted, attempting to focus on what lay on the other side of the room. At the other side of the room, a table gradually emerged from the darkness, its silhouette becoming clearer to Azriel's eyes. As he discerned more barely-there furniture, a sense of dread washed over him. This was no ordinary room. It was a torture chamber, though unlike any he was familiar with from Hewn City. Whips, clamps, syringes, and various other implements of torture adorned the space, along with devices he couldn't even identify. His gaze lingered on a table adorned with chain locks, clearly intended to restrain victims.

Chains were strewn everywhere, giving the room an ominous and foreboding atmosphere. What kind of place was this? The smell assaulted his senses—blood, urine, and something else, something sickeningly familiar yet repulsive: arousal. His stomach churned in disgust at the realization of the horrors that had taken place within these walls. He attempted to summon his shadows, hoping for their familiar comfort and assistance, but nothing responded. Faebane. His heart sank at the realization of the poison's presence. Determination fueled his actions as he tried once more to pull on his restraints, but a piercing scream from outside the room froze him in place.

"Don't touch me!" Your voice, muffled yet unmistakable, sent panic coursing through him. Gritting his teeth, he ripped and tugged at his chains with renewed force. Outside, commotion ensued, accompanied by the creaking of a door. The sounds of struggle intensified, punctuated by a sharp slap that echoed through the room, causing Azriel's eyes to narrow in anger. "She damn well bit me," someone exclaimed amid the chaos. More noise followed, and then the door swung open fully, allowing light to seep into the room as several figures stumbled in, three of them carrying your thrashing form. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he took in your distressed state. You were cursing at them, fighting back with every bit of strength you could still muster. His eyes quickly swept over you from across the room as they threw you onto the table with a force that elicited a loud crack.

His heart stopped then. Where were your fighting leathers? What sick place was this? You were dressed in a white, very sheer and drenched dress that ended just above your knees. One of them grabbed your thigh forcefully, and he saw red. Screaming at them with a hoarse voice, Azriel struggled against his restraints, his muscles straining against the chains binding him to the ground. "Leave her alone, you bastards!" he roared, his voice echoing in the chamber. But his cries fell on deaf ears as they continued their assault on you, their intentions horrifyingly clear. One of the many males in the room laughed at Azriel's futile threats.

"Don't worry, Shadowsinger, your time will come," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. Azriel clenched his jaw, his frustration mounting at his inability to protect you. As they chained you to the table, Azriel's panic surged. Your hands were bound together above your head, your legs hanging over the edge of the table and spread, tied to each leg. The sight sent a surge of fury coursing through him. "What is this? What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice thick with rage and desperation. But his questions were met with only sinister chuckles from the assailants.

Your eyes met Azriel's, and something washed over your features—a mixture of desperation and fear. "Please," you choked out, your voice trembling with emotion, "I beg you, not in front of him." Azriel's heart clenched at your plea, his gaze filled with anguish and determination. Despite his restraints, he struggled against the chains binding him, his muscles straining with the effort. "I won't let them touch you," he vowed, his voice laced with fierce resolve. Though powerless to act, his eyes conveyed a silent promise. The one who had spoken earlier chuckled darkly as the others moved to silence you, advancing with a gag. Your head thrashed around in a desperate attempt to fend them off.

Your body trembled, chest heaving, the wet white dress clinging to your form like a second skin, barely concealing anything. It left little to the imagination, the cold causing your nipples to harden as you fought against them, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. Your black wings, a stark contrast against the white fabric, remained spread out behind you, a symbol of your strength and defiance even in this vulnerable state.

Azriel's heart twisted with anguish as he watched their hands on your wings, holding you down, causing you to shiver and writhe even more. A soft whine and gasp escaped you involuntarily, the sound tearing at his soul. Fury contorted Azriel's face as he snarled at them, his anger palpable. "Dare to touch her again, and I will cut your hands off," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. But his threats were met with mocking laughter from the group, their disdain evident in their sneers.

"How would you manage that chained to the ground?" one of them taunted, their words dripping with cruelty. The group, consisting of about ten males and some females, settled a little farther away, some taking seats while others remained standing beside you. Azriel's rage burned hotter at their mockery, his muscles tensing with the urge to break free and unleash his wrath upon them. Your chest heaved, teeth sinking into the cloth they had used to gag you as you struggled against their restraint. Seeking solace in Azriel's unwavering gaze amidst the chaos surrounding you, your eyes locked onto his. "You see, we were kind of growing bored of watching High Fae," the male spoke again, his tone laced with malice. He was tall, fatter than the others, with grey hair and a posture exuding arrogance. Confusion flickered between you and Azriel as you listened. "You still haven't figured out what we do?"

Azriel's anger burned fiercely as he glared at them, his fists clenched in impotent rage. The male continued, revealing their twisted motives. They watched prisoners engage in sexual acts or forced themselves upon them, all while testing out new weapons, torture devices, and potions. They reveled in the power they wielded over their captives. "And when we found out the High Lord of the Night Court sent two Illyrians after us?" The fat, grey-haired man sneered, his voice filled with twisted excitement. "Well, well, it seemed like we're in for quite the treat. Illyrians are known for their stamina and prowess after all."

"You two especially are a treat to look at," the male leered, his gaze lingering on your exposed form with undisguised lust. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but anger burned brighter in your eyes as you glared at him. "Rumor has it," he began, circling around the table you were strapped onto, his voice dripping with malicious intent, "that Illyrian wings are very sensitive." He punctuated his words with a sinister smile, sending a chill down your spine. Azriel's eyes widened with horror as he watched the man's dirty hands trail over the delicate membrane of your wings.

A growl rumbled deep in his throat, but he remained trapped, his muscles tensed with the urge to break free and tear the man limb from limb. You couldn't suppress an embarrassed moan as the man's fingers grazed over a particularly sensitive spot on your wing, the sensation sending shivers down your spine and igniting a blush on your cheeks. Illyrians were notoriously protective of their wings; allowing someone else to touch them was considered a significant display of trust. The violation of this boundary filled you with a sense of vulnerability and violation, intensifying your anger and humiliation in the face of such blatant disrespect. The dirty male's gaze shifted back to Azriel, lifting Truthteller in his hand, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he brandished Azriel's own dagger.

"You see, Shadowsinger, we've got ourselves a little experiment planned," he said, his voice oozing with malice. Azriel's eyes narrowed, a cold fury simmering beneath the surface as he listened intently. "We've got this new love potion we've been itching to try out," the man continued, his tone sickeningly cheerful. "And we thought, what better way to test it than on our favorite pair of Illyrians? "Azriel's shock was evident, his voice laced with disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but we are," the man chuckled darkly. "You and the lady here," he gestured toward you with a lewd grin, "will be our little test-subjects. One of you will get the pleasure of enjoying its effects firsthand." Azriel's heart sank at the realization of what they were proposing. He couldn't bring himself to do something so violating to you, not like this. Though he had harbored certain thoughts about you, this was beyond anything he had ever imagined. "I will not do that to her," he declared through gritted teeth, his voice laced with defiance and disgust. The look on your face was difficult to decipher, a mixture of fear, anger, and betrayal evident in your tear-filled eyes.

As someone approached with a syringe filled with a blue liquid, your breath caught in your throat. The cold sting of the needle piercing your skin sent shivers down your spine, your body trembling with a sense of dread. The male's smirk widened as he used Truthteller to cut the dress from your body, exposing your breasts and leaving you vulnerable and exposed before their leering eyes. The effects of the potion began to take hold, distorting your senses and leaving you in a state of heightened arousal. Your pupils dilated, your chest heaving with each ragged breath, and your legs trembling beneath you as the drug coursed through your veins.

"Lorsh," the man called for another male, summoning him to join their twisted game. As Lorsh stepped forward, rising from his chair with predatory intent, a sense of dread washed over you. "If our Shadowsinger won't do the honor, you can have her," the man declared, his words sending a chill down your spine. No, this couldn't be happening. You shook your head slightly, trying to fight against the effects of the potion as your gaze turned to Azriel once more, silently pleading for him to intervene.

Azriel's heart clenched with desperation as he watched the scene unfolding before him. He couldn't bear to see you subjected to such degradation, such violation. With a ferocity that echoed off the walls, Azriel's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. "Don't you dare touch her! I swear, I'll break your hands before I let you lay another finger on her!" His words dripped with a protective fury, his eyes ablaze with a primal instinct to shield you from any harm.

"I'll do it," he declared, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and resolve, "but not at the expense of her dignity. I'll be the one." A sickening delight spread across the male's face as he licked his lips, relishing in the twisted power play unfolding before him. With a gesture, he commanded another to throw the key for the arm chains to Azriel, a malicious grin playing on his lips as he watched the exchange.

As Azriel caught the key, the man retreated, his voice dripping with a sickening satisfaction. "You see, these chains on your legs will keep you tethered to this table," he clarified, his tone filled with sadistic amusement. "But don't get any ideas about getting close enough to kill us. You won't succeed." Azriel's jaw clenched with frustration at the limitations of his movements, but his resolve remained unbroken. As Azriel hurried towards you, relief flickered in your eyes as you locked gazes once more. Stopping in front of you, Azriel's heart hammered in his chest as he faced the daunting task ahead. His mind raced with possibilities, seeking a way to ensure your safety amidst the chaos surrounding you. "You may do as you please with her," the male declared, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

Azriel's heart sank at the man's words, grappling with the limitations imposed upon him. "Can I untie her?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. If he could free you from the table, maybe you could fight your way out of this nightmare. If unchained, you could reach a weapon and turn the tide.

But his hopes were dashed as the man's cruel decree fell upon his ears. "No, you can free her from the table if you must, but you cannot completely unbind her hands," the man stated, his words a death sentence to Azriel's hopes. "They will stay tied together." The look on Azriel's face was one of pure sorrow.

Determination surged through him as Azriel clenched his jaw, bracing himself to make this ordeal as bearable as possible for you. With steady hands, he reached for the gag, untying it and freeing your mouth from its suffocating restraint. Next, he carefully loosened the straps that held your arms and legs in place, his movements deliberate and gentle.

As he brushed against your skin, a jolt of electricity coursed through him at the sinful sound of your moan. His heart clenched with both guilt and longing as the realization of the drug's effects washed over him. “I’m sorry.” Your apology only added to the turmoil raging within him, a bleak reminder of the violation of your consent. His voice trembled with uncertainty as Azriel locked eyes with you, his own turmoil mirrored in your gaze. "Is this okay?" he asked, his words barely more than a whisper, filled with a desperate plea for reassurance amidst the chaos. Your nod was barely perceptible, accompanied by a whimper that tugged at Azriel's heartstrings. "I don't mind if it's you," you whispered, your voice trembling with vulnerability and trust.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat at your words, relief and distress flooding through him. His gaze lingered over your exposed form, desire and guilt warring within him. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't deny the allure of your beauty, the vulnerability you displayed beneath him. Guilt washed over him as arousal stirred, his body responding to the primal urge.

Swallowing hard, he fought to rein in his need, guiding your hands from above your head to rest on your stomach. As he intertwined his fingers with yours, he felt your whine of anticipation reverberate through him, igniting a heat between your spread legs. "Look at me," he murmured softly, seeking to soothe you. "I'm here," he whispered, filled with reassurance. "I'll keep you safe."

But beneath the reassurances lay desire. "I'll make you forget they're watching," he promised, leaning closer, his breath hot against your skin. "In this moment, it's just you and me," he continued, a promise of intimacy amidst the chaos. "I'll show you pleasure beyond anything you've known." Each word dripped with longing. "I want to make it better for you," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he leaned closer, his lips grazing your earlobe. "Tell me what you need."

As your body trembled beneath him, a surge of arousal coursed through Azriel at your vulnerability. "Touch me, please," you pleaded, your voice shaky with need. His heart clenched with longing as he resisted his own desires, focusing instead on easing your discomfort.

"It hurts, Azriel," you whispered, anguish and need evident in your voice. His own arousal forgotten, he concentrated solely on comforting you. "I'll make it better," he vowed, determination lacing his voice as he sought to ease your suffering and fulfill your desperate longing for pleasure.

Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks as you squeezed his hand, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault," you whimpered, self-blame and anguish evident in your trembling voice and quivering lip. Azriel's heart ached at your words, the weight of your guilt heavy upon him. "No, it's not your fault," he murmured softly, his voice tender as he wiped away your tears. "None of this is your fault."

Ignoring the sickening gaze of the others, Azriel clenched his jaw with fury. With a deep breath, he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, his voice low and intense. "I will end them," he growled softly, promising to protect you at any cost. "Every last one of them." As he felt his powers surging back, an ancient energy thrumming beneath his skin, he knew he had to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Leaning back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, a smoldering heat burning in his eyes. "How do you want me?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he sought to give you control in a situation where you had none. "Az..Need you" Face constricted in pure longing you sucked in your bottom lip. With a thoughtful expression, he trailed his finger down your trembling form, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. Lower and lower he traced, until he reached the boundary where the drenched fabric of your dress began again.

"Here?" he murmured, his voice husky as he gazed over your pubic bone, his eyes smoldering with heat. Your mewl of pleasure echoed in the air, the sensation of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper of agreement, you nodded eagerly, your face contorted in pure longing as you looked up at him through thick lashes. "Yes," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathy whimper, your body writhing under his touch as you surrendered yourself to him.

"Fine," he muttered, lust thick in his voice as he gave in to fervent longing. With a swift, almost savage motion, he ripped the last bit of the dress open, a low rumble escaping his throat. Your yelp mingled with a gasp of pleasure as your body was fully exposed to him, the sudden rush of sensation sending shivers down your spine. The air crackled with electricity as Azriel's gaze swept over your exposed form, his eyes dark as he drank in the sight of you.

Azriel's mind swirled with a tumult of conflicting emotions as he hovered over you, his fingers tracing patterns of guilt and desire on your trembling skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for the predicament you found yourself in. If only he had been more attentive, more cautious, none of this would have happened. But even as he berated himself for his mistakes, a dark, twisted part of him reveled in the power he held over you now.

As he watched you quiver under his touch, he felt a surge of arousal mingled with self-loathing wash over him. He was sick, twisted, and yet he couldn't deny the rush of pleasure that coursed through him at the sight of you laid bare before him.

Groaning in frustration, he narrowed his eyes, his resolve faltering momentarily before he forced himself to continue. Tracing a finger lower, he felt the tension in your body as you clenched your thighs, seeking relief from the overwhelming sensations that consumed you. But Azriel wouldn't allow it, not yet. With a growl, he forced your legs back open, his gaze fixed on your glistening core, evidence of your arousal under the influence of their vile drug. Deliberately, he brushed a finger through your folds, eliciting an intense reaction from you. Your body flinched, your core clenching around nothing but air as pleasure and pain collided within you.

A needy whine echoed through the room, reverberating off the walls as you squeezed your eyes shut in desperate longing. Azriel's eyes widened at the sound, his heart clenching with desire and fury. "Please, more. It hurts," you pleaded again, your voice thick with need. His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to unleash his fury upon those who had brought you to this state. You were suffering because of their sick, twisted games, and he swore to himself that they would pay dearly for it.

"I'm here, love," he cooed softly, his voice soothing. With a lazy motion, he began to draw circles on your sensitive bud, his touch both tender and electrifying. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he dragged two of his fingers down again, sinking them into your awaiting heat. A hiss escaped his lips as he felt you clench around his fingers immediately, your core desperately trying to draw them in. "Azriel," your voice left your lips in a sinful moan, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name.

Picking up his pace, he arched his fingers, pumping them deeper. Unable to resist the intoxicating scent and taste of you, he leaned forward, carefully extending his tongue as he licked up from where his fingers were buried deep within you, moving steadily up to your sensitive bud before sucking on it with fervent hunger. A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat as the taste of you flooded his senses. You were on the brink of release, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you whimpered and pleaded for more. Each flick of Azriel's tongue, each harsh suck on your bundle of nerves sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form.

When his mouth left your clit after one final, intense suck, you heard a groan from the corner of the room. Azriel's keen senses immediately picked up on your movement as you started to turn your head toward the source of the sound, but his other hand, not the one still buried deep inside you, found your face, forcing you to look back at him.

His expression was stern, his gaze piercing as he locked eyes with you. "Eyes on me," he ordered, his voice commanding yet filled with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment. "Watch as I make you come." With a firm yet gentle touch, he guided your gaze back to his, his eyes burning with a fierce determination to pleasure you beyond measure. And as you obediently focused on him, the weight of the room and its twisted audience faded into the background.

You watched Azriel with rapt attention as his fingers worked wonders inside you, driving you to the edge of ecstasy with each skillful thrust. Your hips instinctively met his movements, grinding against his hand in a desperate quest for release. Despite the intensity of the moment, Azriel's concentration remained focused elsewhere.

His shadows slithered through the room, silent and deadly, creeping toward their unsuspecting victims. One shadow had already retrieved Truthteller, waiting patiently for its master's command. As you soared to the peak of pleasure, your body convulsing with the force of your climax, you released a torrent of ecstasy, squirting all over Azriel's hand and leathers.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a low growl of satisfaction as he allowed you to use his fingers to ride out your orgasm. But as you basked in the afterglow, the lust in Azriel's eyes gave way to a chilling darkness. With deliberate slowness, he withdrew his fingers from you, straightening his back as he met your gaze. Parting his lips, he slowly sucked the remnants of your arousal from his fingers, cleaning them off with a deliberate thoroughness.

And then, in the blink of an eye, he unleashed his wrath upon the twisted individuals in the room. His shadows surged forward, wrapping around the unsuspecting males, snapping their bones with lethal precision. Some shadows slithered into their lungs, suffocating them with tendrils of darkness. Truthteller gleamed in his hand as he swiftly dispatched nearly all of them, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground within seconds. But he saved the one who had dared to touch your wings earlier for last. As the man's eyes widened in fear, Azriel loomed over him, his Siphons glowing bright with unleashed power.

"You filthy male," Azriel's voice was ice-cold, his words dripping with contempt as he confronted the perpetrator. "Enjoy watching helpless Fae get violated?" With lightning speed, he caught the man's wrists, his shadows swirling around them as the room was consumed by darkness.

For each finger he severed with Truthteller, Azriel delivered a damning sentence. "This one," he intoned with chilling precision, "is for touching her wings."

“This one," he hissed with lethal intent, "is for the innocence you defiled." The blade sliced through flesh and bone effortlessly, leaving a trail of severed digits in its wake.

With each finger severed, Azriel's voice grew colder, more menacing. "And this one," he continued, his tone dripping with venom, "is for the fear you inflicted." The man's agonized screams filled the room, mingling with the sound of metal meeting flesh.

As the bloodied fingers littered the ground, Azriel's gaze bore into the man's soul, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury. "Remember this," he spat, his voice a low, ominous rumble, "for every drop of her pain, you will pay tenfold." Azriel's grip tightened around Truthteller as he gazed down at the mutilated figure before him. With a swift, calculated motion, he brought the blade down once more, severing the man's remaining hand with grim determination. "Shame that I cannot take my time with you," he muttered, his voice devoid of mercy, as he plunged Truthteller through the man's throat.

While the male gurgled and choked on his own blood, Azriel withdrew the blade with a steely resolve. With a final, lethal thrust, he ensured the man's demise, his shadows already dispersing to scout the building for any remaining threats and to locate proper attire for you both. Breathing heavily, Azriel attempted to quell the raging storm of fury within him, the splatter of blood marring his face and clothes serving as a grim reminder of the savagery he had unleashed. In that moment, he longed for the confines of his torture chamber in Hewn City, where he could have taken his time with these vile creatures.

A soft cry pierced the air, drawing Azriel's attention. With a start, he turned to find you on the ground, trembling on all fours, the remnants of your once-white dress clinging to your form. With swift, purposeful strides, he approached you, his expression unreadable as he assessed your condition. Blood and tears mingled on your face, your trembling form a testament to the horrors you had endured.

Kneeling beside you, Azriel reached out a hand, his touch surprisingly gentle as he brushed aside strands of hair plastered to your sweat-soaked skin. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with an undercurrent of concern. Despite the fury still raging within him, a flicker of something akin to tenderness sparked in his eyes as he gazed upon you.

Without waiting for your response, he moved to free you from the remnants of the torn dress and chains, his movements efficient but careful. As the fabric fell away, revealing the bruises and welts marring your skin, a surge of anger welled up within him once more. "I'll get you out of here," he vowed, his tone firm.

With a deft motion, he wrapped his cloak around you that his shadows had brought, shielding you from prying eyes and offering a semblance of protection against the chill of the night. "Hold on to me," he instructed, his voice commanding yet oddly comforting. "We're leaving this place, and I won't let anyone harm you further."

Rising to his feet, Azriel gathered you into his arms, holding you close as he carried you from the chamber of horrors. As you clung to him, he swore to himself that he would never let anyone hurt you again.

Azriel winnowed you to the inn they had booked a room in three days prior, the exertion causing him to stumble slightly upon arrival. Despite his weariness, he carried you with care to the bathroom, settling you down before running a bath. Your silence weighed heavily in the air, your gaze fixed ahead as if lost in the depths of your own thoughts.

"I'm so sorry you had to endure this," you finally spoke, the words heavy with emotion.

Rushing to your side, Azriel gently cradled your face in his hands, his heart aching at the sight of your pain. "No, love, it's me who should be apologizing," he murmured, disbelief coloring his tone. "I failed to protect you, and I let those monsters lay a hand on you."

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you shook your head, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "It wasn't your fault," you insisted, your voice barely above a whisper. "We were both in that situation together." Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I promise to make it up to you," he vowed, his voice laced with determination. "Starting with getting you cleaned up and taking care of you."

Feeling the lingering effects of the drug, you sank into the warm water with Azriel's assistance, trying to hide the discomfort that still gnawed at your senses. Despite your efforts, the telltale signs of your distress were evident to him, your body tensing at the slightest touch, your skin still flushed with fever.

Azriel noticed your unease, his brows furrowing in concern as he observed your strained movements. Gently, he reached out, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Easy, love," he murmured soothingly, his voice a soft reassurance. "I'm here with you. Just relax, and let the water ease away the pain." Though his words offered comfort, you couldn't shake the lingering discomfort that coursed through your body. Despite your best efforts to hide it, Azriel's keen gaze didn't miss a thing, his eyes filled with empathy as he watched you struggle to find solace in the water's embrace.

With a gentle hand, he began to massage your shoulders, his touch tender yet firm as he worked to alleviate the tension that gripped your muscles. Gradually, you felt the knots begin to loosen, the warmth of the water seeping into your bones and offering a fleeting sense of relief. As Azriel massaged your shoulders, you couldn't suppress a slight whimper, the tension in your body betraying the pain that still lingered within you. Heat flooded your cheeks as you immediately apologized, feeling embarrassed by your body's involuntary response.

Azriel's movements faltered slightly at the sound, his senses heightened by the scent of your arousal that filled the air. Swallowing hard, he fought to keep his own desires in check, the tension between you palpable in the confined space of the bathroom.

You stuttered slightly as you tried to explain, your words coming out in fragmented whispers. "I'm sorry... I just..." Another whimper escaped your lips as you curled into yourself, pulling your legs to your chest in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from the discomfort that still plagued you. "It still hurts."

Azriel paused for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in as he contemplated his next move. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy and deep, tinged with sincerity. "Do you want me to help?" Your eyes widened at the question, your body trembling slightly as you shook your head. "Please don't do this because you pity me," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Furrowing his brow, Azriel leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with yours. "Believe me," he murmured, his tone firm and unwavering. "Me fucking you would have nothing to do with pity." His words hung heavy in the air, filled with conviction and a promise of something more profound than mere sympathy. As you met his gaze, your pupils blown and cheeks flushed, uncertainty still lingered in your eyes. Azriel noticed, and in that moment of vulnerability, he bared his own desires to you.

"If you had asked, I would have fucked you right there on that table," he confessed, his voice low and filled with raw desire. "No hesitation. No remorse. Just us." He paused, his gaze intense as he continued, his words tinged with a hint of need. "And I would have taken my sweet time, making you forget any other male you've ever been with. I would have tasted every inch of you, every drop of your arousal, until you were begging for release."

He swallowed hard, his eyes burning into yours. "And afterwards," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I would have savored the sight of you, laying there, fucked out and trembling, as I licked my cum from your cunt." As he voiced his desires, your body responded instinctively, a low moan escaping your lips, anticipation coursing through you. The tension between you grew thick. In the heat of the moment, you couldn't resist expressing your own desires, your words dripping with longing and want. "I want you, Azriel," you murmured, your voice laced with need. "I want you to fuck me until I can't think straight, until I'm begging you to stop."

Without hesitation, your lips crashed into his, a desperate hunger igniting between you. The kiss was fierce, fueled by longing and desire. You surged from the bath, water splashing around you, and pressed your wet, naked body against his chest. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating between your lips. Prying your lips open with his, his tongue ventured forth into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, as if he was trying to commit it to memory. "Shit, you have no idea how much you infuriate me," his voice rumbled deep in his chest. He pulls you from the bath then, hiking you up in his arms, hands on your thighs as you wrap your legs around his middle. "How effortlessly you occupy so much space in my mind."

As he carries you, your bodies pressed tightly together, Azriel's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes into yours. "Gods, the restraint it took to keep myself from you," he confesses, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I looked at you, on missions, during training... I wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes off your body and fuck you right then and there, for everyone to see."

His admission hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of your desire. You can feel the intensity of his longing radiating from him, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

"And you, my love," he continues, his voice husky with desire, "the strength you possess, the way you could best me in one-on-one combat training... It drove me mad with desire, the urge to ravish you, to claim you as mine."

With each word, his voice grows more fervent, his grip on you tightening as he carries you toward the bed. "I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you," he admits, his tone laced with regret. "So I distanced myself, buried my desires deep within, but now..." He trails off, his eyes locking with yours, a hunger burning within them that mirrors your own.

"Now," he whispers, his voice barely more than a breathy murmur, "I can't hold back any longer. I need you, more than I've ever needed anything in my life." And with that, he lays you gently on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he begins to shed his own clothes, his movements urgent and desperate.

As he discards his pants, his cock springs free, slapping against his toned stomach. You gasp at the sight, salivating at the thought of wrapping your lips around the silky skin of his member. Crawling forward on the bed, you meet him at the edge where he still stands, your hunger evident in your gaze as you look up at him.

"I know I'm still influenced by the drug, and I'm incredibly aroused. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the bedsheets right now," you confess. His eyes darken at your admission, wandering over your form kneeling before him, lingering on your dripping core. "But believe me when I tell you that I have fantasized about this moment so many times, Azriel."

Biting your bottom lip slightly, you part your lips shortly after. "I want to pleasure you, to taste your beautiful cock, feel it glide down my throat, and I want you to use my mouth." God, your shameless words cause a faint blush to creep up his cheeks, his dark hair still disheveled from the day's events.

His cock twitches in anticipation as you confess your desires, your words sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine. "I want you, Azriel," you continue, your voice low and sultry, "I need to taste you, to feel you fill my mouth and fuck me."

His own arousal surges to new heights at your shameless admission, his gaze locked on your lips, parted and inviting. "Then take me," he growls, his voice rough with need, "show me how much you want it." And with that, he guides himself to your waiting lips, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he presses against your tongue.

As you lower your mouth towards him, you flatten your tongue, tracing a strong strip up his long shaft, relishing the taste and texture of his skin. Your movements are deliberate, teasing, as you kitten-lick at his throbbing head, savoring every twitch and shudder that runs through his body.

Opening your mouth further, you eagerly suck him into your warmth, feeling him harden even more within your mouth. Your lips form a tight seal around him as you take him deeper, inch by inch, until he hits the back of your throat. You relax your throat muscles, taking him in completely, reveling in the feeling of fullness and the primal sounds of pleasure that escape him.

Your tongue dances around him, swirling and caressing, as you bob your head rhythmically, matching the pace of his rising desire. His hands find their way into your hair, threading through the strands as he guides your movements, urging you on with gentle pressure.

Each suction sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, and you drink in every drop of his arousal, your own desire building with each passing moment. You're lost in the intoxicating rhythm of give and take, completely consumed by the need to pleasure him, to taste him, to feel him pulsing against your tongue.

As your lips wrap around him, Azriel grits his teeth, his eyes locked on you with a fierce intensity. He watches intently as you graze your teeth over the vein along his shaft, a deliberate tease that elicits a low growl from deep within his chest. He knows you're testing him, pushing him to the edge, and he can feel the tension coiling tighter with each passing second.

"You take me so well," he grunts through clenched teeth, his voice strained with desire. "Sucking my cock like that, driving me insane."

But as you continue to tease him, grazing your teeth and tongue over his sensitive skin, he feels himself reaching his limit. With a warning growl, he tightens his grip on your hair, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. "Keep teasing me like that, and I'll snap. I won't be able to hold back."

Your groan around his cock, a mischievous glint in your eyes, pushes him over the edge. With a growl of frustration, he releases you with a pop, watching as you smile innocently at him before flattening your tongue to lick up his shaft again. "You little minx," he breathes, his tone a mixture of frustration and desire. "You brought this upon yourself."

With that, he loses control, gripping your throat tightly as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure. His hips snap harshly, fucking your throat with an urgency that leaves you gasping for air. He can feel your gag reflex kicking in, but he doesn't relent, pushing you to your limits as he drives himself closer to the edge. "That's it, princess," he speaks through gritted teeth, his voice strained with need. "Take it all. You know you want it."

As he only pulls out when your eyes well with tears, gagging around him again, your jaw slack and drooling all over your chin, a string of saliva connects your mouth still to the tip of his cock as he retreats, chest heaving. He caresses your cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, before dipping down to grab your chin with his thumb.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper as he gazes down at you. "So hungry for my cock. Bet your cunt is already waiting for me to bury myself inside it."

A whimper escapes your lips at his words, and he smirks down at you, the corners of his lips curling into a wicked grin. "Open your mouth again," he commands, guiding your head to lean back a bit as he slips his cock back into your warm mouth. He moans sinfully as he sheathes his cock into your willing mouth, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.

"Knees apart," he orders, his voice firm yet laced with desire, and you obey without hesitation, shifting to part your legs. You gasp around his length when you feel a cool touch on your thighs, sliding up your body. Your eyes widen in surprise when you realize he is using his shadows on you, and his smirk grows wider.

Your breath hitches as you feel friction between your legs, the shadows brushing against your clit, sliding through your wet heat. "You filthy thing," he chuckles lowly, his voice a dark whisper. "You like that," he states, groaning when your moan sends vibrations through his cock, intensifying the pleasure coursing through him. Your drugged form, heightened senses and all, nearly reaches the peak of ecstasy when one of his hands falls to knead one of your breasts and a shadow brushes over one of your wings softly. With a gasp, you pull back, your body shaking with need.

"Fuck, Azriel," you pant, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside of me." A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes smoldering with desire. "You want me to fill you up, don't you?" he growls, his voice dripping with raw lust. "You want my cock stretching you out, pounding into you until you can't take it anymore."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, desire coursing through you like wildfire. "Yes," you whimper, your voice barely more than a needy whisper. "Please, Azriel, I need you to fuck me hard." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "I'm going to make you scream my name, darling. You're going to beg for more, beg for me to never stop."

He lifts you slightly, guiding you as he turns you around, bending you over until you're on all fours, your wings fluttering with excitement. With a hand placed between your wings on your spine, he presses down, arching your back.

"God, you're gorgeous," he murmurs, admiring the sight before him. Using his knee, he nudges your legs apart, positioning himself behind you. "You're absolutely soaked."

Collecting some of your slick with his cock, he slides through your wet cunt, coating himself in your arousal. Your loud whine fills the air as you feel him grind into you. "Azriel," you moan his name, gasping when a harsh slap lands on your right ass cheek, leaving a handprint behind. Your pussy pulses with desire as you try to rub yourself against his hardness. "Fuck me," you seethe, your voice dripping with need.

He obliges, plunging into you with a force that sends your body reeling forward. You curse loudly as he inches deeper, until he's completely buried in your cunt, hitting your cervix. Azriel twitches at the tightness around him. "Shit, you're so tight," he groans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

With a primal need driving him, Azriel begins to move within you, each thrust growing more relentless than the last. His hips collide with yours in a rhythm that's both punishing and intoxicating, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the room.

Your body responds eagerly to his every move, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. Your moans fill the air, a symphony of desire that spurs him on further. Azriel's grip tightens on your hips as he sets a punishing pace, his cock delving deep into your slick heat with each powerful thrust.

The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure coursing through your veins like fire. Your nails dig into the sheets as you surrender to the ecstasy of his touch, your body arching against him in a desperate bid for more. As Azriel's thrusts grow more fervent, he groans, his voice strained with desire. "You feel so good," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "You take me so well."

You respond with a needy whimper, your fingers clawing at the sheets beneath you. "Harder," you plead, your voice barely more than a breathy whisper. "Please, Azriel, fuck me harder." He grunts in response, his movements becoming more forceful as he drives into you with unrestrained passion. "Like this?" he growls, his voice rough with need as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.

You can only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming as he takes you to new heights of ecstasy. "Yes," you gasp, your voice trembling with desire. "Just like that." With each powerful thrust, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, the pleasure building to a crescendo that threatens to consume you. "I'm close," you whimper, your voice filled with urgency. "So close, Azriel."

He grunts in response, his own release drawing near. "Come for me," he urges, his voice low and husky as he drives into you with unbridled passion. "Let go, my love. Let me feel you." With a cry of ecstasy, you shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "Azriel!" you gasp, your voice echoing in the room as you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.

"I'm not done with you," he coos, withdrawing from you with a determined gleam in his eyes. In one fluid motion, he shifts positions, effortlessly lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing. "I need to look at you while I make you come again." Your breath catches in your throat as Azriel's commanding voice fills the room, sending shivers down your spine. You cling to him as he effortlessly lifts you, feeling weightless in his embrace, your legs draped over his shoulders.

The sensation of being held by him, of being completely at his mercy, ignites a fire within you as he plunges into you with a primal hunger. With each powerful thrust, you cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his skin as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

You gasp, your voice echoing in the room as he drives into you with unrelenting force. "Please, Azriel, don't stop." He grunts in response, his movements growing more frenzied as he takes you to the brink of ecstasy once more. "I won't," he growls, his voice thick with lust as he pistons into you with intensity. In the heat of the moment, Azriel's movements become more frenzied, his muscles straining as he drives into you with an unyielding passion. Your body quivers with each powerful thrust, the intensity of his gaze locking you in a mesmerizing trance.

The room swirls with shadows, dancing in a frenetic display of their master's passion. Beads of sweat form on Azriel's forehead, his brows furrowed in concentration as he maintains eye contact with you, his hazel eyes ablaze with desire.

Curses escape his lips as he nears the edge, his rhythm relentless as he repeatedly strikes that sweet spot deep within you. Your head falls back in ecstasy, your entire being consumed by the raw intensity of his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin adding to the symphony of pleasure.

With a primal scream, you climax again, your essence gushing around him as you convulse in ecstasy. Wetness cascades down his legs as you drown him in the waves of your release. When you lock eyes with him again, you see the turmoil reflected in his gaze, the desire for release warring with the need to control.

As he begins to slow, ready to withdraw, you refuse to let him pull away. Your voice cuts through the haze of passion, commanding and insistent. "No," you declare, your tone leaving no room for argument. "I want you to fill me. I want every last drop of you."

A mix of desire and determination flashes in Azriel's eyes as he succumbs to your command. With a growl, he thrusts into you one final time, burying himself deep within your core as he spills his essence into you with abandon.

Azriel's breath is ragged against your skin, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his release as he continues to grind into you, riding out the waves of his orgasm. You both pant heavily, lost in the intoxicating embrace of each other's warmth.

In the quiet of the room, the steady ticking of time seems to slow, the rhythm of your hearts gradually synchronizing as you revel in the aftermath of your passionate union. With each passing moment, the remnants of the drug that once clouded your senses dissipate, leaving you both in a state of serene clarity. Suddenly, Rhys's urgent voice breaks through the tranquility, invading Azriel's mind with a sense of urgency. Azriel's grip tightens around your hip instinctively, his focus momentarily pulled away from the blissful moment you share. "Brother, where are you? Is everything fine?" Rhys's concern reverberates in his mental voice, a stark reminder of the dangers that still loom beyond the sanctuary of your embrace.

Azriel's response is curt, his mental voice tinged with irritation as he struggles to maintain his composure amidst the lingering ecstasy. "Yes," he confirms, the word clipped with impatience as he tries to convey his need for privacy.

Relief floods Rhys's voice at the reassurance, but Azriel can sense his brother's lingering worry. "Gods, what happened, I wasn't able to reach you," Rhys presses, his concern palpable even through their mental connection. Azriel's annoyance bubbles to the surface, his desire to savor the aftermath of your passion momentarily overshadowed by the intrusion of reality. With a low growl, he sends a brusque reply, his focus returning to the warmth of your body pressed against his. "I'm kind of busy right now, Rhys," he grumbles, his tone a mixture of irritation and longing as he tunes out the outside world, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of being buried deep inside you.

A brief pause follows Azriel's curt response, the tension in the mental connection palpable as Rhys gathers his thoughts. Then, with a hint of playful sarcasm, Rhys's voice echoes in Azriel's mind. "Ah, I see. Busy indeed," Rhys remarks, his tone laden with amusement and a touch of mischief, his words carrying a knowing undertone that hints at his awareness of Azriel's current state of affairs.

Azriel's jaw clenches slightly at the teasing remark, his irritation flickering momentarily before being replaced by a begrudging amusement. He shoots back a mental retort, his tone dry and laced with exasperation. "Do you mind? I'm in the middle of something here," he replies, a hint of playfulness seeping into his mental voice despite his attempt to maintain an air of annoyance.

Rhys's laughter rings in Azriel's mind, a warm and familiar sound that serves as a reminder of the unbreakable bond between them. "Carry on, brother,”

With a soft sigh, Azriel shifts his head, planting tender kisses along the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. He hums softly against your skin, his movements deliberate and gentle as he relishes the intimacy of the moment. Pulling back slightly, he meets your gaze, a knowing look reflected in your eyes.

"Rhys?" you inquire, a hint of curiosity lacing your voice. Azriel's expression darkens slightly at the mention of his brother's name, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Yes, but I'd rather not have my brother's name on your lips while my cock is still buried deep inside your cunt," he replies, his voice low and husky, his gaze intense as he holds your gaze.

You chuckle softly at his response, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you playfully tease him. "Fair enough," you concede, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. Azriel's frown deepens momentarily before giving way to a smirk of his own.

He kisses you once more, his lips lingering against yours before he slides out of you, gently setting you back down on your feet. As you stand there together, still caught in the aftermath, you decide to address the elephant in the room. "This doesn't have to be a one-time thing, you know," you say, your voice soft but resolute, seeking clarity in the midst of the intimacy you've shared. Azriel meets your gaze, his expression serious yet filled with a hint of vulnerability.

"I don't want it to be," he responds, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locking with yours as he lays bare his desires and intentions. "Good," you state, a sense of satisfaction in your voice.

"Good," he echoes, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gazes at you.

You move on shaky legs, his hand enveloping yours as you make your way to the bathroom together. "Now, I really want to clean up," you state, casting a playful glance over your shoulder at him. "But there's room for two sets of wings in the tub."

His body responds immediately, his eyes darkening once again as he takes in the sway of your hips while you lead the way to the bathroom, a lingering gaze on your bare ass.

"We're not returning for another day. Something came up," he sends out to Rhys, already on your heels as you chase each other into the bath.

"Sure you do, brother," Rhys's voice comes through, laced with amusement. "Just don't forget she still has to fly back home."

The flight back home indeed turned out to be quite difficult.

#smut #x reader #azriel acotar #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #reader insert #filth #pure filth #azriel smut #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel angst

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b00kdiary · 3 months

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Stay With Me | Rhysand

Rhysand x Reader

Rhysand reappears at the cabin four hours after he had gone on a mission- wounded and bleeding. Y/N has no choice but to help him, even if it means yanking out every ash arrow embedded in his wings by hand. But something Cassian once told her makes her re-think the line between pleasure and pain, and she will do anything to make it better for her High Lord.

‘Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?’

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image thoughts, blood and gore, and smut (Hint: Wing play)

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

PART TWO

PART THREE

I couldn't stop pacing.

That's what I did when I was nervous, and on edge- I paced. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again, until I wore through the carpet and my entire body was thrumming with dread.

It had been four hours.

Four hours since Rhysand left to track those Hybern soldiers through the forest, hoping to be led back to their camp. For several weeks we've been dealing with Hybern forces infiltrating our land and yet we had no idea what they were planning.

It was the unknown that had made Rhysand go out tonight.

I had insisted I come, to help, to watch his back, something- but with the heavy snow and rain, he had been adamant that it would be easier to fly alone. Though I knew it was an excuse to keep me here, safe, and unharmed, while he was out there risking his life.

And now he was missing.

Four hours of silence and I was starting to feel violently sick with worry. I contemplated leaving the cabin, trekking on foot through the forest in search of him, but with the weather so furious and the fact he had been flying not walking, I knew it would be futile.

And Rhysand would kill me if he knew I had gone after him, especially when he had specifically instructed me to stay here.

"Stupid, arrogant High Lord," I cursed under my breath and despite the log fire crackling before me and the layers I wore, I still shivered from the brutal cut of the cold wind. My heart seized at the thought of Rhys out there in the brunt of it.

Hybern soldiers were ruthless and their hatred of the Night Court, of Rhysand was known. They could do anything to him; ash arrows, Faebane, dark magic, and Mother only knows what other weapons they have we don't know about.

"If he thinks I'm going to sit here like some kind of damsel," I scowl, my hands shaking as I yank on my discarded sword belt and daggers, "Then he is a bigger idiot than I thought possible."

I try and let my anger bubble over and overtake my fear as I make my way toward the heavy wood door, the sound of the whistling wind and perilous skies getting louder the closer I get to it. I'm trembling as I grip the handle, yanking it open with effort, the hinges stiff with the cold.

I stumble back a step at the sight of a tall male slumped against the door pane- blood pooled around his feet, stark against the white snow.

"Rhysand!"

All thoughts eddy from my head at the sight of him- his skin pale and dull, his midnight hair in disarray, his armour torn and filthy, and an agonised grimace lining his lips. A groan slips from him when my hands come to his chest, and my stomach turns at the warm blood that coats my palms.

"Cauldron, Rhys," I gasp, my throat closing as I stumble back into the cabin, his body weight half-leaning on me and every step he takes is slow and staggered, his face twisting as I guided him back with me. "What happened?"

"Hybern soldiers are assholes," Rhys grits out, a rough laugh slipping past his lips, but the sweet sound soon melts into a pained hiss when I turn so I can slam the door shut behind us- and I see why he's bleeding so goddamn much.

"Rhy- Rhys," I stutter, my fingers tightening into his suit, his muscles rippling under my touch, every breath he takes deeper and faster than the last. "The arrows, holy shit, there's so many-"

Five.

He had five arrows embedded into his back and wings.

"Really? I didn't notice," He grins, his heavy head lifting and those violet eyes meeting mine- though upon seeing the ire and worry on my face, that grin falters, "Hey, c'mon don't look at me like that, I'm alright-"

He sucks in a sharp breath of air, his eyes screwing shut when I begin to move back toward the sofa and I try not to let my body lock up when his hands fall to my waist and hips, long, ringed fingers digging into my flesh for leverage.

"Huh, I knew you wouldn't listen to me," He scoffs out a laugh, half-amused, half-breathless and my face burns with heat when he runs his hands idly down my sides, grazing pointedly over my sword belt and daggers. "You know it's an offence to disobey your High Lord, right?"

"Well since you're wounded and I'm the only one here to help," I grit out sardonically, ignoring how close his face is to mine as I guide his front down onto the sofa, careful not to touch his wings as I move behind him, "I'm sure you'll find a way to forgive me."

I frown at the amount of blood seeping out from his wounds, and I can feel how rigid his body is under my palms- he always was good at hiding his true emotions, masking his pain with an arrogant smile, or teasing words.

My breathing is shallow as I climb onto the sofa behind him, my soft thighs brushing his strong ones and my heart racing as I settle on my knees. His wings are limp on either side of him, one drooping down to the floor and the other sprawled over the cushions.

"You need to rip them out, darling," Rhys muses gently from under me and as if sensing my worry, his voice has lost all sense of humour. "No need to be gentle, I'm a big boy, I can take it."

"We both know you're a big Illyrian baby, Rhys," I tease, though my voice is strained and when he shifts his head sideways, looking over his wide shoulders at me, I see the small smile tilting his lips too.

I swallow the lump in my throat, shifting forward and placing a trembling hand on his back. To the arrow embedded at the junction of his wing and spine.

His hand slips back and curls around my thigh, fingers sprawling around the flesh and digging in as if he were bracing himself. The touch is distracting but I focus on my fingers wrapping around the arrow, a few inches from the entry point- and I hate how Rhysand's body flinches at the soft touch.

"Come on, darling," Rhysand sighs, his grip tightening around my thigh as I release a long breath, "Amren's going to kill me if I get any more blood on these cushions-"

I rip it out mid-sentence- and Rhysand's whole body jolts as I tear the arrow free from his flesh, a grunt of pain muffling into the leather beneath him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whimper, my hand clamping down and applying pressure on the wound, the arrow discarded on the floor beside us. Rhysand trembles under me, his jaw locked so tight I can hear his teeth gritting together, "Shit Rhys, I'm sorry."

"It's- it's okay, it's okay," He pants, and I watch his face from the side, seeing him get paler and paler. He squeezes against my thigh, once, twice, and his eyes blink open, those violet eyes dark. "Keep going darling, you're doing so good, keep-keep going for me."

I feel the familiar burn of tears in my eyes as I lean forward, my fingers slippery with blood and gore as I curl my hold around the second arrow, this one just barely stuck near the very bottom of the left wing.

Ash arrows were notoriously dangerous, known for splintering within the flesh, one wrong move and Rhys would have pieces of the wood stuck in his wings and those would be near impossible for me to remove on my own.

I grit my teeth and pull, swift and brazen, not giving him or me a second to think about it. Again, Rhysand grunts, body viscerally jumping but he seems to bear the pain better the second time, his thighs clenching around mine for support.

"Forget what I said, I was wrong," I clear my throat, trying to force some ease and comfort into my tone as I run my hand up the muscles of Rhysand's back and I feel relief when he sighs, his body melting into my touch. "You're not a big Illyrian baby, you're a tough, strong male."

"What finally convinced you? The very manly way my body is shaking right now?" He released a long exhale, his mouth tugging into a smile and I can't help but laugh when his eyes glance back to meet mine. "Or the groans that keep slipping out no matter how hard I try to contain them?"

I laugh softly, my blood-stained hands running across the planes of Rhysand’s shoulders and back, the pad of my thumbs and forefingers circling around the stiff muscles, trying to get him to relax. He sighs, and his hand pulls against my thigh coaxing me higher up his body, closer than before.

"Nothing wrong with being vocal, Rhys, I would have thought five hundred years of existence would have taught you that," I run my finger across the membrane of his wing, feeling the soft, leathery texture as I move to the next arrow. "Females love to hear how you feel."

"Cruel, wicked thing," Rhysand mumbled, his breath hitching at the tender touch I grazed over his wings, and it was a very different sound to before. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Having me at your mercy."

I wrap my hand around the arrow stuck in the middle of his wing and his body tenses- knowing what was waiting. I frown, hating that he is in pain and unconsciously, my left hand moves to his other wing, and he gasps, eyes widening when I run the pad of my thumb over the talon at the tip- a spot I knew was sensitive.

I tear the arrow out of the right wing with one hand, while my other rakes down the curve of his left wing, my nails scratching softly against the tender flesh there. Rhysand groans, louder this time, and it's a sound that I feel through my body.

"Are you- are you trying to make it feel better, darling?" He asks quietly, his breaths loud in the silent room and his hand at my thigh caressing, his thumb swiping soothingly back and forth.

"Yes," I reply, equally as soft, and my heart is racing as I edge closer, my core and ass settling over one of his burning hot thighs. "Is it working?"

"Yes," He swallows, an audible sound and I see his Adam's apple bobble, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as I reach for the fourth arrow. "Yes, it is, don't- don't stop." There's a slight tremor in his voice, a neediness that makes my head spin.

His body vibrates under me, but for a completely different reason now and it seems the more my idle hands wander curiously over the dancing veins and soft membranes of his wings, the less control he has over himself.

"Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?" My voice is hoarse, and I ignore the sweat coating my skin and heat burning through me as I grab around the arrow, my shoulders bracing for the strength needed for this pull.

"Why are you and Cassian talking about the most sensitive parts of a male's wings?" He grits out, his thigh muscle tensing, and I feel it brush against my centre- wet and aching with need. A smile tugs at my lips at the darkness in his tone, that smile broadening when his wing twitches violently against my fingers.

"He also said that males can like having their wings touched during sex and that a brush against the right spot can make you climax, is that true?" His nails dig into my thigh at my whispered words, a moan slipping past his lips when I grip around the talon with a firm hold.

This time when I rip the arrow free, he doesn't feel the pain- too consumed and dizzy with pleasure.

"You're killing me, Y/N," Rhys chuckles, his body shaking with the laugh, a sound that travels through the air and over my skin like a phantom touch. I circle the heel of my palms into his shoulder blades, massaging out the tension and Rhys moans appreciatively, a low rumbling sound from deep in his chest.

"Only one left, Rhys," I say encouragingly, and he mutters incoherently in agreement as I lean forward, the last arrow embedded in his upper back- much deeper than the rest. I frown, rising onto my knees, already missing the strength and heat of his thigh between my legs. "This one's gone all the way through, I'm going to have to dig it out the other side."

"Just when I thought this couldn't get any more fun," Rhys jeers, his hand grazing along my thigh as I sit up as if needing my touch as reassurance.

My eyes narrow at his remark and suddenly the blood and the arrows and his pained face hold no bearing with me, the sympathy vanishes- replaced by the anger that had me ready to march out into a storm to look for him.

"That's what happens when you go chasing the enemy with no backup," I mutter stiffly, and this time when I grab the arrow, I don't give Rhys any satisfaction or comfort- no, I break the arrow in two with an easy snap of the wrist, dropping the fragmented piece to the floor with a clink.

He winces, and when I hover above him, his head turns to look at me, a sheepish smile on his handsome face.

"I take it you're still upset with me then, darling," Rhys muses and the ting of humour in his words makes me scowl, my touch no longer soft or soothing, my body no longer enjoying the hard, perfect feel of him.

“Turn around,” I order, dismissing him as I rise from him and onto my feet. His hand reaches for me, trying to grab me, a yearning in his touch, but I move away from him stiffly. “I need to dig out the arrow from the front.”

He purses his lips at my cold words, and I almost feel bad for him when he hisses in pain, his muscular, lean body so frail as he rolls onto his back, his sore wings moving slow and deliberately, barely able to lift higher than his shoulders before sagging back down again.

“Y/N,” Rhys sighs, a deep frown tugging at his lips as he drops his head against the armrest. I stare at him in silence, seeing him splayed out before me, chest rising and falling in harsh waves and those violet constellations unwavering upon me.

"You could have been killed, Rhysand," I grit out, and I hate the tears I feel prickling my eyes as I stare at him, at the blood coating my hands, and the sofa and the floor, the wound puncturing through his left pectoral. "If you don't trust me to have your back-"

"Don't say that, never say that" He rises faster than I can protest, and my hands shoot up to stop him, but he doesn't relent, his face harsh with discomfort but his eyes burn with determination as he sits up. "I trust you more than anyone, more than myself, don't ever think that Y/N."

"Alright, okay Rhys," I sigh, shaking my head and my hands are weak as I place them on his solid shoulders, trying to guide him to lay back down. His eyes never once leave mine and I can see the hurt in them- that I would even think such a thing. "I'm sorry, just lay down, you're still hurt."

His face tightens severely, and he looks so at odds with the male known for his easy smiles and bright stary eyes- but he obliges me as I guide him back down. His hands curve up my thighs and rest on my hips, and he doesn’t speak as he yanks me down, dragging me so that I straddle his waist.

“Rhys-“ I suck in a sharp breath when he settles me, forcing my weight to sit atop him, my thighs clamped around his hips, my core settled just under his belly button and his calloused hands kneading the flesh at my sides.

"I told you to stay here because I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you," He whispers, eyes unbearably soft, and his touch igniting something hot in me, "If they did something to you if you got hurt... I don't know what I would do, Y/N."

I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart hammering in my chest as I bring my hands forward to the front of his leathers, my fingers stumbling as I unbuckle the belts and slip off the buttons one by one, revealing the acres of tan skin and the dark whorls painted across his chest.

I gnaw on my cheek as I tug back the shirt, Rhysand silently watching every action, every breath I take, and my face falls at the wound leaking blood above his left pectoral, the arrowhead peeking through the gore.

“And what if something worse than this happened to you?" I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion and when my eyes meet Rhysand’s again, his face tightens at the tears in my eyes, “What do you think I would do? How would I be able to live with it?"

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rhysand swallows thickly and I watch as he grits his teeth, his body pulsing when I run my fingers over the wound, gauging how deep I have to feel, how best to remove the arrow in one piece.

“I need to dig it out with my fingers to get it to the surface first,” I clear my throat, ignoring the thick prolonged silence and taut tension between us, “It’s going to hurt, badly.”

“I know,” He locks his jaw, the strong angle sharp and I see the grim anticipation on his face when I move my index finger and thumb into position over the exit point. But without speaking, I move my body, lower, until my core settles over the front of his breeches- over his long, hard length.

“Y/N, you don’t have to-“ His breath hitches at the contact, his violet eyes widening and latching onto mine in surprise.

“I want to,” I whisper, need spreading through me at the feel of him under me, the smell of his arousal and mine wafting through the air, making me dizzy. “I’m trying to make it feel better, remember?”

I roll my hips, ever so slightly, and the electricity that shocks through my clit at the contact makes me gasp. Rhysand grunts, a low, heady sound, and the way he lifts his hips up to dig his cock into me is almost desperate.

“Cauldron,” He curses as I dig my fingers into his wound, the metal sharp and hot against my fingertips as I try and get leverage around it. His face twists but when I rock my hips again, dragging down his length, his pain dissolves into something carnal. “Cauldron, Y/N-“

“There we go,” I whisper, my fingers gripping around the arrowhead firmly, twisting it a few inches higher so that it protrudes out of his chest. I bite my lip to contain any sounds as I rut against him, my underwear and trousers soaked through, seeping into Rhysand’s slacks, making it easier to rub over his twitching length. “I’ve got it!”

He moans- the most erotic, lewd sound rumbles from him, low and loud, echoing through the room. I pant as he runs his hands over my body, over my thighs and hips and waist, kneading my stomach and love handles, before settling over my ass.

His nails carve crescent moons into the flesh as he palms me, the control he was so used to wielding in the bedroom not dwindling as he guided me back and forth faster and harder against him.

"This is the best pain I've ever felt, darling," Rhysand purrs, his voice like melted chocolate against my senses and the fire burning between my legs fans at his words. I lean forward, my breasts brushing his chest and my stomach settling against his- and I run my free hand over his sprawled wings.

"I'm going to pull it out now, yeah?" I mumble against his cheek, and I know his head is spinning, the pain and pleasure so at odds, so damning that his canines flash at me, his fingers bruising against my ass and his hips jolting up violently to meet mine.

“Do it, daring,” He commands, the role of the High Lord imprinted into him no matter the situation and almost as if it were programmed in me to obey, I kiss his cheek tenderly- and yank the arrowhead free in one go. “Shit, shit-“

I drag my centre over the tip of his cock, rolling my hips in fast, sharp strokes and Rhysand crumbles at the action- his eyes screw shut, his body stills like stone, and the filthiest, rawest cry tears from his lips, louder and fragmented when I rub at the tip of his talon with my palm.

I whimper at the feel of every hard inch of him cemented against me, the warmth of his hot seed leaking out and soaking his slacks, mixing our arousals, getting messier the more I rub against him.

“Y/N,” He moans my name into the crook of my neck, his teeth scraping against my pule point and his hands curling around my ass, forcing my hips to stop. Instead, he clamps my body flush to his, my tits pressed to his chest, my face buried in his soft hair, and I feel his cock pulsing and tremoring hard against me as he rides out his orgasm.

I feel Rhysand laugh roughly against my neck, the sound of his ragged breathing and the erratic rise and fall of his muscular chest against me making me sigh. His hands don’t loosen, in fact, they get tighter, guiding me until I’m laying flat, his arms wrapping over me and keeping me to his chest.

He was holding me like he didn’t want to let go.

There’s a long silence as I lay with him, our bodies melting together and his touch unrelenting upon me, holding onto my flesh for dear life, feeling me against him and sighing at the comfort. His breathing starts to deepen, turning heavy and I blink, shifting to move my weight off him.

“Don’t,” He grumbles, his arms drawing me back to his chest, a deep groan escaping him as he shifts so that my body slips between the gap of the sofa and his side. His eyes flutter closed again, and I watch his face ease into serenity as I lay my cheek against his shoulder.

“Stay with me.”

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@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @satellitesunshine @queenofangrymoths @highlady-ofillyria @ladespedidas @magical-mischief-makers @lyracarvahall @ummmmmwat @eerievixen @bitchyinternetinfluencer @meritxellao @rachelnicolee @fanfictioniseverything @queen-of-arda @magdalenka @bunnymallowo @azzydaddy @fanboyluvr @maddithefangirl @jeannineee @fakelust @whatthefuckshappeningrn @honeycriess @cheneyq @brujitafantomatico

A/N:

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

Should I make a part two??? part two here

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 14 days

Text

Omega Ours - Part 1 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader| Short Series 2.7k

After fighting your way out of every potential mating offered to you, your village sends you off with the High Lord. Rhysand, tired of dealing with the Alphas living in the House of Wind, gifts you to Cassian and Nesta in the hopes that it'll settle all three of you down.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, forced proximity, d/s themes, only one bed (and only one chaise), lots of tropey tropes! No use of YN but liberal use of pet names.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 5 faveourite tropes (Omegaverse, only one bed, forced proximity, sort of insta-love)

Part 2 will be posted on the 13 (Free day!) follow @illyrianlibrary for updates ❤️

Part 2 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

The only way to describe the couple stood before you was - handsome.

The High Lord and Lady who’d brought you here were beautiful, elegant. But this couple could only be described as handsome, strong, Alpha.

You knew them, of course. General Cassian of the Nightcourt and his mate, Lady Nesta. Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death, they’d called them in the camps that circled the Illyrian villages like pilot fish on a shark.

“I’ve brought you a present,” Rhysand drawled, pointing at you. “Well, it’s a favour and a present. The last unmated omega of the season. She's from the Western Isles, I thought it might help to tamp down your behaviour if you two had a project.” He grinned and you turned to look at Nesta and Cassian again.

It was true, you’d rejected every mate offered to you, bitten some of them, in your desperation to get away, and that’s how you’d lost your freedom. Fighting the boys from the village was one thing, fighting an Illyrian was another. They’d hauled you into the camp in front of the High Lord on his last visit and demanded compensation.

Rhysand, ever flush with jewels and gold, had paid them and then had a set of cuffs and leathers made for you. Nightcourt black velvet, red stitching and silver buckles. But restraints were still restraints, no matter how soft they felt against your wrists and ankles. He’d had new clothes made for you as well, traditional sheer panels of matching blood red that hung in gossamer curtains down your legs, pooling around you as you were forced to your knees in front of the Lady and General.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Nesta studied her nails, her air bored but her eyes kept flickering towards you.

“Come now, Nesta, we both know you and Cassian caused quite the stir the last time you were both in heat.”

You were right then, you could smell it on them anyway, that raw power and strength that designated them as Alpha.

“Still - you want us to take care of your problems?” Nesta huffed.

“Of course not, she’s a gift, for you and Cass, if you happen to tame her enough that she stops mauling my men then that’s a bonus.”

You looked between them, it was undeniable how attractive they were. Better than the mud caked idiots from the village at least, but you still railed against the hand that dragged you back to your feet.

Cassian kept his hand under your elbow, pinching your cheeks with his other hand. “Come on, Nes. She’s cute, isn’t she?” He angled your face up towards his mate.

Nesta shrugged one shoulder and you snarled, snapping at Cassian’s fingers.

“Feisty,” he gave a deep chuckle, “I like that, that’s how Nes and I got together.” He hauled you over his shoulder, your legs and arms dangling, the panels of your dress slipping dangerously.

“Put me down!” You beat your fists on his back.

“Should have thought of that before you tried to bite me,” he teased, jostling you.

You scowled at Nesta, who followed, laughing, through the halls of the palace and then tried using the only knowledge you had about the Illyrians. You reached out and grabbed his wing, squeezing as tightly as you could.

He growled back, the sound travelling up through his chest into yours, vibrating your very core.

“You want to play rough? Good.”

Cassian shouldered a heavy door open and suddenly the sweeping corridor was gone and a dark, warm room wrapped itself around you.

The walls were an oxblood red with thick velvet curtains that lay heavily in front of the eternally open windows. The soft jasmine breeze that circulated through the house was mixed with the cleaner scent of mountain air and the crackling of a fire, rich and inviting.

The general set you down, his gaze travelling slowly down your figure. He clenched his jaw and then instantly turned to his mate, cupping her cheeks in his large hands and kissing her roughly. She growled in response, leaning into his embrace and allowing him to lift her against his body. You watched as he carried her across the room to an open archway, almost hidden behind a large tapestry, and then they vanished again.

Tentatively, as much as you could with the thin chain connecting your ankles, you crept across the room to the curtain, now brushed back and curling heavily on the polished floor.

Nesta and Cassian were tangled on the bed, the heady scent of their arousal lay thick in the air, the bedsheets already rumpled as if they’d been interrupted before, the room in disarray.

On both bedside tables there were stacks of books of various genres, a pitcher of water on one and dagger on the other.

“Either come in or go,” Nesta groused from the bed, hair messy, one of Cassian’s hands still tangled in the long golden-brown strands.

“Play nice, Nes.” The general laughed, biting at Nesta’s earlobe. “You can join us or you can sleep,” he said over his shoulder.

Sure enough there was a small chaise made up with blankets at the end of the bed. You shuffled over, and fell heavily onto the soft cushions listening to the sound of their love making. Each grunt and moan made you press your thighs together harder. Each stifled sigh had your hands twitching, itching for something more. You may have rejected every attempt at a mating, but you weren’t completely without feeling, without desire and needs and lust.

You lifted your hands to cover your ears, the chain between them digging into the bridge of your nose, and fell into a confused sleep.

You awoke to the sound of moving bodies and cloth dragging on the floor.

“She’s asleep, let her rest, Cas.”

“What if she’s cold?” The footsteps came closer and you tensed on instinct. The steps stopped, but a gentle weight floated down on you, a large cotton blanket, awash with their scent, settled.

“I’m going to wash,” Nesta’s voice faded as she walked away but there was no other movement.

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was loud in your ear, closer than you’d expected and you jumped again, almost sliding from the chaise. Cassian’s arm caught you, tight around your waist and his bareskin was so warm against your own. You cracked one eye open and looked around the room as best you could with his wings blocking out the faint candlelight.

His arm was speckled with tiny scars that twinkled against his tan skin, the hair that decorated his forearm was as dark as the long tendrils that brushed over his shoulders and this close, his chin almost resting on your own arm, he smelt heavenly. That mixture of his own scent and Nesta’s even stronger in his proximity and, no doubt, enhanced by their earlier activities.

“If you want, you can borrow some clothes.” His voice was a sleepy rumble and you resisted the urge to let your omega instincts take over and push yourself back into his chest, seek out that warmth, that comfort - but you didn’t respond.

The sound of running water in the other room stopped, replaced with the gentle pad of Nesta’s footsteps and then she was in front of you. Surrounded by them again you had to fight back every urge to give in to her wicked mouth, her lips plump and kiss bitten.

“We’ve left you some things on the chair, choose what you will. If you want to join us on the bed, you can.” Nesta moved away taking Cassian with her and you assumed from the gentle rustle of sheets they were back in bed.

The chair that sat opposite their grand fireplace was strewn with clothes, silky looking negligees and billowing linen shirts, some cotton leggings and a pair of woollen socks.

Waiting a moment, hoping they weren’t looking, you rose from the chaise and rushed for the chair. The translucent dress the High Lord had had you wear left your skin cold and bare, exposed and vulnerable. Cassian’s shirt was a welcome relief, covering your body from view, although the two slits in the back for his wings did feel slightly odd. The socks were warm and fluffy, long enough to reach almost to your knees. Redressed, you turned to return to your chaise and tugged the blanket up to your chin.

You didn’t really want to spend the entire night there, but you also refused to give in to the ridiculousness of the situation. No one chose your mate, or mates, for you and you’d rather sleep on the tiny chaise that allow anyone to take that choice from you.

Thankfully, Nesta and Cassian had turned away, the Illyrian’s large wings spread over the bed,. Shielding his mate from view? Or stopping her from following you around the room with her silver stare? You weren’t sure, but you were grateful as you closed your eyes.

It was only as you were falling asleep that you realised you were snuggled into the shirt, inhaling Cassian’s scent, and by then it was too late, you were tumbling into your dreams.

The next morning Cassian and Nesta were gone, but someone had left a tray of food, a pot of tea and a stack of books on the table. The doors to the balcony were open and the jasmine wind blew the curtains back so invitingly you couldn’t resist.

You were halfway through one of the books they’d left, something by Sellyn Drake that had far more smut in it than you were anticipating. A slice of buttered toast was stuck halfway to your mouth as you stared transfixed at the page, when the door opened. Cassian held the door for Nesta, taking a long sword from her hand and placing it on the table that was perpetually strewn with weapons. His own sword and daggers followed and the two of them began to strip out of their leathers.

There had been a rumour that Nesta trained alongside the Lord of Bloodshed and the Shadowsinger, trained with other women as well, but you hadn’t thought to believe it until now.

Her leathers were tight against skin, a sheen of sweat making her sparkle, her long hair was tied up in what was now a messy ponytail and, most surprising of all, she was smiling broadly at Cassian. He returned the smile, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss, his hands wandering down to the buckles and clasps that held her fighting leathers together.

Cassian looked equally as powerful, his own armour dark against his tanned skin, his tattoos flowing under the leather before appearing again at his collar bone and trailing over his shoulders towards the vast wings at his back. You set the book down slowly, the lust filled scene already had you feeling hot under Cassian’s shirt even before they appeared.

The movement caught his eye and he turned, taking Nesta with him and pinning her against his chest. They way they looked at you, like the most delicious prey, had you pressing your legs together. You wouldn’t give in to this, especially not when it was exactly what that smug prick of a High Lord wanted.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he cooed, “Would you like to join us?”

It was Nesta who held her hand out, crooking her finger to coax you forward. “We’re going to bathe, the tub is large enough for three, come.” It was more a demand than a question and, though you longed to see how far down Cassian’s tattoos went and how Nesta would look covered in bubbles, you resisted again.

With a shake of your head you went back to your book, trying to ignore the sound of them together through the wall.

You fell into a rhythm, the three of you. Nesta and Cassian continued as they were, training, working in the library and attending meetings, and inviting you to join them whenever they were together.

Your nights on the chaise were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but you refused to be worn down by their requests, preferring to stay silent and read alone either on the balcony or by the fire. No amount of reading could drown out the sound of their love making, though. If you could call it that, judging by the bruises both of them sported proudly and the way their headboard banged against the stone wall.

Despite your protests their allure was difficult to ignore, their playful banter, the care and attention they showed each other, even the way they whispered in bed, dissecting the day's events and, on a few occasions, discussing you.

This only happened when you were pretending to sleep heavily, breathing slow and steady as you wished for dreams to take you.

“Nes, did you see the way my shirt fit her today, rolling up her thighs-” Cassian had made a deep, guttural noise, only to be shushed by Nesta.

“Yes, Cas, stop, she’s right over there.” Nesta hissed in return.

“I know, God, she’s so fucking close, don’t you think she smells good?”

“You know I do.” The sheets rustled and you heard Nesta whimper as a wave of arousal flooded you. They could smell you, you knew it and you couldn’t stop it.

Sleeping in their room, bathed in their scent every day, surrounded by their things, it was like a huge nest and the longer you lingered here the more you wanted to give in and climb into their bed, to be between them and allow them to care for you.

You knew something had changed when you woke up drenched in sweat. As usual, Nesta and Cassian had already left the room, your breakfast arranged in its spot, clothes laid out for you. They’d started adding some new things, items that smelt like neither of them, clean linen and lavender, but you were still drawn to their items the most. Perhaps, it was the way they smiled when they saw you cuddling into one of Cassian’s shirts or standing on the balcony in one of Nesta’s dresses. But you refused to confront that feeling.

Despite your long, cold, bath you still felt hot and uncomfortable. It was mid way through stripping off your linen trousers that Nesta reappeared. She moved with a preternatural grace that you were sure existed well before her sister’s ascent to High Lady. A smoothness to each turn of her hand, or extension of her arm, she made walking seem like a dance and you were transfixed.

Nesta stopped as soon as she saw you, her nostrils flared, almost imperceptibly.

“Are you okay?” she asked in that cool, silvery voice.

“Yes,” your voice felt hoarse. You barely spoke and had gone days without saying anything to either of them, merely existing in their presence. But now, locked by her gaze, there was no escaping.

“You seem -” she weighed her words carefully, “unwell.”

“I can assure you, I’m fine.” You took a half step towards the balcony doors, hoping the breeze would cool your skin.

Nesta hummed, surveying you from head to toe. “I’d feel better if you got into bed.”

You knew this was as persuasive as Nesta could be, a simple request made in the lowest of tones, an argument not worth having.

“I-”

“The bed.” She crossed the room swiftly and turned you towards the large, velvet draped bed that took up a large portion of the room. Since your first entrance into Nesta and Cassian’s suite, you’d done your best to avoid even looking at it. Now there was no escape.

Your hands were shaking, a tingling heat rising from your spine and coiling in your stomach. On this occasion, just once, you’d listen to her. “Fine.” With great difficulty, you pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor. You were so tired. When had you become so tired?

Nesta’s deft fingers grasped your chin, holding you still so she could look at your pupils, large and frightened. “Get in bed and go to sleep,” she insisted, and you obeyed.

Part 2

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jeannineee · 8 months

Text

Closure (Ⅲ)

Azriel x Reader

a/n: part three!! Comment if you’d like to be added to part four :) quickly proofread, sorry for any errors

Requests are open for headcanons/short blurbs

ALSO IM A BIT NERVOUS ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT THIS PART IS GOOD SO YALL LMK PLS

Part 1

Part 2

PART FOUR

warnings: angst, allusions to sex (18+ please)

“What are you and Azriel doing?”

Mor’s question drew your attention from the book in your hands. You sat up on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.

“I don’t know.”

That was the truth. You had no idea. It had been a few days since that evening with Azriel in the Hewn City. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t spoken to you since.

Mor sighed, taking a seat on the couch beside you. “I thought you said you ended things with him.”

“I—I did. But…” you trailed off, fidgeting with the spine of your book. “…I can’t stay away from him.”

“Because he’s your mate.” Mor said. A statement, not a question.

Shock was written all over your face. “How did you know that?”

“Anyone with a brain can see it. Except for Azriel, apparently.”

You looked away, finding sudden interest in Feyre’s family painting on the wall. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why?” Mor’s voice was soft, understanding.

“Because he is only interested in Elain.”

Mor went silent for several moments. “I think Azriel feels he isn’t worthy of you.”

“That’s nonsense.”

Mor snorted, twirling her golden hair around her forefinger. “Trust me, I know. But as long as I’ve known him, Azriel has always thought himself to be a bastard-born nobody, undeserving of anything good.”

Something in your soul ached at that. You knew Azriel had issues with his self-esteem, but you didn’t realize just how much it affected him.

At your silence, Mor continued, “Despite his inferiority complex, his behavior is uncalled for. He shouldn’t be stringing you along while entertaining Elain.”

“I know.”

“And you need to grow a backbone.”

You glared. “I have a backbone.”

“Not with Azriel, you don’t.”

You couldn’t argue with that, as much as you hated to admit it. Perhaps it was the bond, that made you so weak to his advances. Perhaps it was your own naïveté.

“Do you…” You swallowed thickly, the question catching in your throat. “Do you think he knows about the bond?”

“I’m not sure.”

~~~~~~~~

Later in the day, you retired to your bedroom, after spending a few hours training with Nesta and Cassian. You loosed a sigh of relief and contentment as you settled into a warm bath, the scent of lavender and eucalyptus wafting through the air.

Normally, a bath would be enough to relax you, and calm your thoughts. But Azriel weighed heavily on your mind. As did your conversation with Mor.

Half an hour passed by, filled with overthinking. Scowling, you rose from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around your form, and headed into your bedroom.

Before you could enter your closet, a knock sounded on your door. You didn’t need to hear his voice to know who it was.

“Y/n.” Azriel called from the hall. “Can I come in?”

You replaced the towel with a silk robe, and sat on the edge of your bed. “Come in.”

Azriel silently entered your room, his shadows much more active than normal. The shadows only behaved that way when he spent time with Elain—they disappeared in her presence.

Yet the shadows reveled in yours.

If the shadows weren’t hint enough as to where Azriel had been earlier in the day, Elain’s flowery scent ensnared your senses. You swallowed down bile.

The Shadowsinger cleared his throat, leaning back against the dresser that stood against the wall, a few feet away from you.

“Did you need something?” You asked him.

Azriel chuckled. “Do I need an excuse to see you?”

You fidgeted with your hands. “I have things to do, so…”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Azriel replied, taking a step forward. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal the tanned, muscular chest beneath, and the black, swirling tattoos that marked his skin. “I just wanted to check on you.”

“How kind.” You didn’t bother hiding the annoyance you felt.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You snorted. “Why are you so hot and cold with me? One moment, you’re trying to get me into your bed, and the next, you’re ignoring me for weeks at a time. Why?”

“I have other responsibilities to attend to outside of our friendship.”

You knew those ‘responsibilities’ likely included time spent with Elain. But you didn’t voice that.

Azriel continued, “You know, you can come to me, too. It doesn’t always have to be me who initiates conversation.”

“You’re never around. You don’t tell me where you are, what you’re doing.”

“As I said, I have responsibilities,” Azriel said, before sitting on the bed beside you.

“That’s a piss-poor excuse,” you muttered, not daring to look him in the eye, despite the bond urging you to do so.

Azriel scoffed. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

At that, you whipped your head towards him. “I want my friend back. I want…” You stopped yourself before the next words could leave you.

You wanted him. Wanted—needed more than friendship. You needed your mate. But instead, you repeated, “I want my friend back.”

“You have me,” Azriel said, reaching a hand to cup your face.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he swiped his thumb over your cheekbone. Damn him.

Part of you wanted to protest—to push him away. But each time he touched you, it felt as though every broken piece of you was being put back into place.

“You have me,” Azriel murmured again, brushing his lips against your forehead. He placed a soft kiss to each of your cheeks before his lips melded to your own.

Elain’s flowery scent filled your nose once again, yanking you back into reality. You abruptly broke away from the kiss, rising to your feet.

“Y-You should leave,” you sputtered out, furiously readjusting your hair, your robe.

“Do you not want to…?” Azriel let the question hang as he too, stood from your bed.

“Are you serious?” You spat the question. The casualness in his words, his actions sent you into a white-hot, blind rage. “Not when I can smell Elain all over you.”

Azriel stiffened, but didn’t respond.

You laughed, but the sound was devoid of any humor. “I don’t know what I was even thinking.”

The bond. It had to be the bond, making you forget yourself with him. He still smelled like Elain, for fuck’s sake. For that alone, you would’ve sent lesser males running.

“It always comes back to Elain,” Azriel said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Shouldn’t it? How can you—do you even understand what you’re doing to me?”

Azriel looked taken aback. He opened and closed his mouth, coming short of a reply.

You debated simply kicking Azriel out of your room, and leaving it at that. But all the emotions of the last several weeks came bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill over. So you let the words fly out, consequences he damned.

“You are hurting me, Azriel. You—each time you come to me, only to turn around and go to Elain? That fucking hurts. It’s confusing, and I don’t deserve it.”

You loosed a breath, continuing, “I don’t know what you do with her. I don’t know what you feel for her. I don’t care anymore. Just leave me out of it, because it’s hurting me.”

You braced yourself. Braced yourself for a screaming match; an argument. Part of you thought that maybe he’d even laugh at you.

Instead, Azriel merely walked out of your room in silence.

That was far worse.

~~~~~~~~

“What’s got Azriel so pissed off?” Cassian asked you from where he stood on the balcony, nursing a mug of coffee.

“Y/n put him in his place last night,” Nesta interjected, her voice lined with amusement. “Poor Illyrian baby couldn’t take it.”

Cassian grinned. “Rhysie will have a field day when he hears about this.”

You rolled your eyes, staring down at the glass of water in your hands. “Yes, laugh at my turmoil,” you muttered sarcastically.

Nesta and Cassian shared a laugh at that, before the former patted your back comfortingly. “Don’t worry. We’ll go to Rita’s tonight and make you forget all about it.”

~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, Nesta’s idea of “making you forget all about it” included her running off with Cassian into the bathroom after an entire thirty minutes at Rita’s, leaving you alone at your booth, stone-cold sober and mildly annoyed.

After another ten minutes of sitting alone like an outcast, you were prepared to call it quits.

That was, until Eris Vanserra slid into the seat across from you, two mixed drinks in hand.

“Y/n,” he greeted with a smirk, sliding you one of the drinks. “It’s been a while.”

“Not long enough,” you muttered as you took a large swig from your glass.

Eris chuckled, amusement lining his expression. “Always the charmer. How’ve you been?”

“I’m fine. What are you doing in Velaris?”

“Tsk. Not even going to ask how I’m doing?”

You stared.

Eris sighed dramatically, though you noticed his lips twitching up in a smile. “Alright. I’m here for a few days. Just visiting.”

“I highly doubt you’re ‘just visiting.’”

“Believe what you want.” Eris mused, leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands. He studied you for a moment, before adding, “You seemed a bit lonely. No males around to warm your bed?”

You took another gulp of your drink. “My bed is of no concern to you.”

Eris grinned, undeterred by your disinterest. “Come on. Loosen up. Play with me.”

Perhaps it was the alcohol kicking in a bit sooner than normal. Or perhaps it was your determination to get Azriel off of your mind. You didn’t particularly care to find out as you replied, “What do I get if I do?”

Eris’s grin became feline. “Whatever you want.”

~~~~~~~~

The first thing that greeted you when you awoke the next morning was a pounding headache. You were never drinking again.

Your grogginess quickly eddied into panic as you realized Eris was sleeping beside you. If you pulled away the blanket that covered the lower half of his form, you were almost certain he’d be—

“It’s not polite to stare,” Eris murmured tiredly, his abs rippling as he sat up in bed, the blanket that previously covered his form sliding away.

You quickly averted your gaze, and rose from the bed, throwing on the nearest piece of clothing.

“My shirt looks lovely on you,” Eris mused, still lounging on your bed as though he owned it.

Your cheeks flushed. You cleared you throat, attempting to find any amount of dignity within yourself as you said, “You should probably leave.”

Eris chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t overstay my welcome.” He stood from the bed, and dressed himself. You prepared to return his shirt, but he halted you. “It looks better on you. Keep it.”

You cursed yourself as your cheeks flushed an even deeper color.

“I have to return home this afternoon,” Eris explained as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “But if you ever want a repeat of last night…”

You gave him a pointed look. “Eris, as much as I enjoyed—“

“Oh, I know you enjoyed it. Multiple times. You were quite vocal in showing it.”

“As much as I enjoyed it,” you began again with slight annoyance, “I think it best that we don’t do this again.”

Eris shrugged, unfazed. “That’s fine. You were a lot of fun,” he replied as he prepared to leave your room. “For what it’s worth, though, you are…nice to be around.”

You supposed that was the closest you were getting to a compliment from him.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Eris left before you could.

~~~~~~~~

The coffee you drank was a welcome remedy for your headache. Tiredness still gnawed at you from where you sat at the dining table, allowing your thoughts to wander.

You didn’t particularly regret last night. Eris was…fun. A distraction, even. Perhaps you’d take him up on his offer, in the future.

“Next time you bring a male over, at least have the decency to sneak him out,” Azriel said from behind you, his face frozen with rage.

You laughed. Laughed, to your own surprise. “I dealt with centuries of you, Mor, and Cassian bringing people home. Cope.”

The finality in your tone seemed to piss Azriel off even more. “You even smell like him, for Cauldron’s sake.”

It was then that you realized you still wore Eris’s shirt. Again, you didn’t particularly care. “Good,” you spat out as you stood from your chair. “Maybe now you’ll know how I feel when you smell like Elain.”

“Did you fuck him?”

You weren’t sure why he asked. He already knew the answer.

“What does it matter?”

“Did you?”

“Did you fuck Elain?”

Azriel went silent.

“Allow me to make one thing clear, Azriel,” you started, taking a step closer to him. “I am not yours. You are not mine. What I do, with anyone, is none of your business. Just as what you do, is no concern of mine.”

You ignored the way the bond hammered against your chest in protest. The way you could feel his hurt surging through you like a tidal wave. Good. Let him feel what you’ve felt for months, now.

Azriel didn’t respond. Typical.

You started to leave, but Azriel’s next words had your breath catching short in your lungs.

“I know about the bond.”

You weren’t breathing. It felt as though the floor had been swept out from under you.

You turned back around, facing him. “What?”

“I’ve known for almost a year.”

A year. He’s known longer than you have.

You couldn’t bring yourself to form a proper response—you could hardly think over the roaring in your head.“Then why would you—Elain—what?”

Azriel took a step forward, to which you immediately stepped back.

Azriel began, “There is no excuse—“

“You’re right,” you sneered, “there is no excuse.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Save it.”

Azriel’s throat bobbed. He reached out a hand, as if to caress your face. “Y/n—“

“Do not presume to touch me. Ever again.”

You hurried out of the dining room before you could further register the anguish on Azriel’s face.

The bond made you feel it all, anyway.

~~~~~~~~

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acotar smut #smut #female reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #Azriel smut #angst #Azriel angst #acotar angst

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thehighladywrites · 2 months

Text

— “Still wanna fuck me, Azzie?”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor az x bimbo/ditzy/popular reader

☀︎ — summary: you invite your tutor to a movie night and somewhere along the way it ended up with him giving you a facial

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, oral (m. receiving), bimbo reader, virginity loss, making out, daddy az showing you what he has learned, getting your pussy pounded, possessive thoughts, jealous thoughts, az telling reader he wants to eat her out, rhys and cass make a cameo!

☀︎ — amara’s note: sorry for the wait, the smut was killing me but i hope you enjoy hookers!!

series masterlist

”Ahh, yes, oh my god!! Fuck me harder daddy, I’m gonna cum!!! Yes, yes, yesss!!!!”

Azriel slammed his laptop shut and stared at the wall, his face burning with a deep flush, dick stirring, and heart pounding.

Was this really how sex was supposed to be like? He had looked up ‘sex tutorial’ and clicked on the first link, which led him to a dark and inviting porn website. A million flashing signs about nearby milfs and pills to enlarge his dick by atleast 5 inches decorated the screen.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about the situation felt incredibly sketchy. Especially with the video he was currently watching; ‘cute next-door-neighbor gets fucked by handsome mailman.’

The theatrical moans and exaggerated expressions felt forced, fake and unreal. Even tho Azriel had never had a women under him, he wasn't naive enough to believe that any of it was genuine.

He huffed out a sigh and undressed to take a much needed cold shower. Your movie night plans were later this night and he wanted to make sure he atleast knew how to please you.

You had only sat in his lap and he had practically melted. While he loved that you knew what you were doing, he also wanted a sense of control and knowledge. Azriel always figured something out if he really put his mind to it, and best believe he would learn how to proper please you.

The line between what you two were had become increasingly blurry. Were you just tutor and student or could it be possible that you were both experiencing the same fluttering feelings?

Azriel kept thinking about how had he wanted to be with you, even though he had only known you for a few weeks. You were an absolute sweetheart to him, always clinging to him during the tutoring sessions and being a light in his life he didn’t want snuffed out.

After the shower, he made a decision to meet up with his friends for some advice before heading over to your apartment.

—

Rhysand's spacious living room suddenly echoed with Cassian's booming voice. “Holy fuck, you're finally going to raw-dog a girl?”

The surprising statement grabbed Rhysand's attention, curiosity sparking in his eyes. Just who had Azriel finally taken an interest in?

Azriel shot Cassian an unamused scowl, rolling his eyes as he sipped on the expensive scotch Rhysand had decided to test out.

“No need to scream, Cassian. Yes, I'm going to have intercourse. And don't call it raw-dogging. It sounds disgusting.”

Rhysand raised an amused eyebrow at Azriel's response. “Don't call it intercourse. It sounds too clinical.”

Azriel shrugged. “Fine. I'm getting laid, happy?”

Cassian chuckled. “That's more like it!”

Rhys rolled his eyes playfully. “Just be safe, Az. And have fun.”

Azriel slowly nodded, looking down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid around.

Cassian narrowed his eyes, studying Azriel's every move. Azriel lifted his eyes and met his gaze with equal intensity.

“What are you looking at?” Azriel demanded.

Cassian grinned mischievously. “Do you even know what to do? I mean, you haven’t fucked anyone before, so, do you know how to fuck properly? How to make a girl cum?” he teased.

Azriel's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he shifted uncomfortably under Cassian's scrutinizing gaze.

“I, uh... did some research,” he admitted, his voice slightly muffled as he avoided eye contact.

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a knowing glance, a smirk playing at the corners of their lips as they both realized what Azriel was implying.

“What do you mean research? Like you watched porn?”

Azriel's blush deepened, his ears turning pink as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah... something like that,” he muttered, hoping the ground would swallow him whole.

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter, their chuckles echoing in the spacious living room. Azriel pushed his glasses up so they held back his hair and rubbed his eyes, stressed. After a moment, Rhysand clapped Azriel on the back with a grin.

“Don't worry, brother. We'll teach you all the tricks the ladies go crazy for,” he assured him, his tone laced with promising advice.

—

After a few hours of vivid explanations, videos, and personal advice on how to please a lady, Azriel was more than ready to make you happy.

Azriel stood in front of the snack aisle, feeling the pressure to choose the perfect treats. Snacking was usually his thing, but why was it so damn hard this time? Determined to get it right, he debated between chips that could leave him with sour cream and onions breath and popcorn with an overwhelming variety.

Opting for salted popcorn, he moved to the sweets section. Rummaging through his memory for your favorites, he snatched up two packs of your sour strawberry candies and tossed in a blue raspberry pack because it was his favorite, and he wanted you to try it too.

Finally reaching the counter, just before he paid, he glanced at the condoms on the wall. The old lady at the counter followed his gaze.

“You need some, boy?” she asked, her voice surprisingly loud in the quiet store.

He quickly looked around to make sure no one else had heard, then, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks, he grabbed a packet of extra-large condoms.

—

With your hands on your hips and a narrowed gaze, you looked at the options in your massive closet, feeling on the verge of screaming bloody murder.

None of your clothes seemed good enough for tonight, and despite the fact that it’s supposed to be just a movie night, you knew it was likely to lead to something more.

You'd rather die than be unprepared for what tonight might bring. Your overflowing walk-in closet wasn't cutting it at all, so you had to leave on a last-minute emergency shopping trip. And let's face it, running around in Saks with six-inch heels is no easy feat.

“Alice, it’s an emergency. I need to see the latest collection of lingerie from Agent Provocateur. I know they’re not out in shops until November but is there a chance you can let it slide? Pretty please?” you ask sweetly, flashing your signature smile.

Your usual sales assistant, Alice, whom you've gotten to know well from your frequent visits, returns your smile and gestures toward a private showroom, handing you a flute full of Moët as she leads the way.

A few minutes later, Alice returns with a whole rack in tow, each piece of beautiful lace underwear causing your jaw to drop in awe.

The collection was absolutely incredible, featuring intricate lace, luxurious silk, and sparkling Swarovski diamonds adorning the bras. Your eyes widened to the size of saucers as you watched her pull out each piece, unable to contain your excitement.

As Alice presents each set, her voice filled with enthusiasm and admiration for the craftsmanship, you watch attentively, absorbing every detail.

“This one features hand-stitched lace imported from France,” she explains, holding up a delicate bralette.

You nod, impressed, as she continues to another blue set, “And this one has intricate embroidery along the edges, giving it a touch of playfulness.”

When she mentions another set with sparkling Swarovski diamonds adorning a particularly stunning bra, you can't help but gasp in awe. You reach into your handbag and pull out your black card. “I need the entire thing,” you declare with conviction, your tone leaving no room for doubt as you're already envisioning yourself in every piece.

“Are you sure you want the entire collection, Ms. L/n?” she asks, a hint of surprise in her voice.

You meet her gaze with unwavering determination. “Absolutely,” you reply without hesitation. “I need to look hot tonight.”

“I'll wrap them all up and tell Pierre to put them in your trunk while you finish your drink. I just know you will look amazing in them,” she says with a wink.

You squeal with excitement, giving Alice a hug that almost knocks over a display. “Thanks, Alice! You're a total lifesaver!” you exclaim before darting out of the boutique.

—

Azriel thought he had prepared himself for everything, but nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked when you opened the door. The wind was nearly knocked out of him as his lips twitched into a shy smile.

You flashed him your adorable grin as you looked up at him.

“Hi Azzie!! Come in, we’re gonna have so much fun. I’ve been looking forward to this forever.”

Before he could respond, you grabbed his hand and closed the door behind him. The moment he stepped inside, you enveloped him in a long, warm hug, nestling into his sturdy chest as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I missed you so, so, soooo much. Oh, I also passed my math test. Oh but only because I remembered your lame technique and used it.”

Azriel looked down at the top of your head and wrapped his tattooed arms around your shoulders. He was sure his heartbeat was dangerously quick, but he still pulled you in closer.

“That's fantastic news. I knew you could do it. I’m proud of you.”

He was bummed when you let go of him, but his mood improved when you took his hand and led him to the living room. You guided him to the sofa and playfully pushed him backward until he landed on the mountain of pink fluffy blankets.

“Make yourself comfy. I’ll be right back,” you said, grabbing the bag filled with snacks. Leaning down, you kissed him slowly, loving the way his lips felt against yours, before getting up and leaving.

Azriel grinned, feeling a rush of warmth as he watched you go. He couldn't help but let his eyes linger on your body, admiring the way you moved. Absentmindedly, he licked his lips, his thoughts consumed by what was coming.

Azriel leaned back, stretching his legs out on the cushions as he debated how to position himself. Should he leave one arm on the back of the sofa, inviting you to cuddle in beside him? But then he wondered if that was too forward and presumptuous, maybe you wanted some space.

He put down his arm and crossed them against his chest, but then realized he looked angry or something.

“I look like an idiot,” he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes in frustration. Finally, he decided to be bold and put his arms behind the sofa. After all, he did want you close to him.

He jumped slightly when you came back and had a tray filled with all the delicious snacks he had bought.

You but the tray down and sat on the sofa, crawling closer and closer to him as you put on the movie.

—

Obviously, neither of you were paying attention to the movie as you were both busy with feeling each other up and making out only 8 minutes into the movie.

He had started out by slowly rubbing your back. But you decided to speed things up, gently placing your manicured hand on his abs and lightly scratching. That seemed to be enough to set him off, as he immediately got hard and started kissing you needingly.

You pivoted, sitting on top of him as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Azriel swallowed at the feeling of your soft boobs pressed against his chest.

His hands traveled further down your back, slipping into your shorts and starting to massage your ass with a firm grip. Meanwhile, his mouth moved to start making bruises on your neck, each kiss leaving a mark of his desire.

Your eyes widened at his confident move, noting how he had become more forward since last time. It was quite the change from the last time when he couldn’t even look at you without a shirt on.

It piqued your curiosity. Did he have someone else on the side? How was he already making you feel so weak? All he did was squeeze your ass and kiss your neck, yet here you were, grinding in his lap. So, you asked, your tone a bit pouty and filled with uncertainty.

“Hey, are you like, fucking someone else on the side?” you blurted out, your perfectly shaped brows furrowing dramatically as you pouted your glossy lips. You were feeling a whirlwind of emotions, and your over-the-top, dramatic ass reaction was a mix of concern and hurt. Even though you didn't have any evidence, the mere thought of him with someone else was enough to make you feel like you'd just die.

Azriel's cloudy, lustful eyes cleared up real fast, and he sat up straighter, a hand on your back to keep you from falling as he panicked at the sadness in your glossed-over eyes.

“No, no, no. What makes you think that?” he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern. Subconsciously, he rubbed your thighs in comfort, his own brows furrowing in worry.

“Because, like, you're really good now. And you’ve never even touched a girl before me, so what’s up? How did you even learn how to do make me wet?” you exclaimed, your voice high-pitched and filled with drama. Your glossy eyes were wide with emotion as you awaited his response, your lower lip trembling ever so slightly.

Azriel wanted to kiss that pouty look off your face but he wasn’t that bold yet. Just the thought made him flustered.

But wait, he made you wet? Cassian had said that girls getting wet was a very good sign because it meant he was doing something you liked.

“It’s not like that. I have not spoken to another girl, I assure you. But I did some research because I wanted to make you feel good. Do you feel good?” he asked curiously, with hungry eyes.

“Oh, okay, well that’s perfect! No other girls, okay? And yeah, I mean, I feel super good. Like, really, really good.” you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of airheadedness as you flashed him a bright, bubbly smile.

“Can I blow you, pleaseeeee?” you asked, your hands softly caressing his chest, your face hovering just inches from his. He chuckled, his fingers fidgeting nervously behind your back.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he said, and he meant every word. It was official – he was totally head over heels, over the top, painfully in love with you.

You gave him a quick peck before sliding down to the floor and on your knees before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling the material off his body. His physique never failed to make you drool. You traced his abs, his muscles, his tattoos, and kissed on the tattoos down his body.

You played with the buckle of his belt, raising your head to meet his eyes before unbuckling it. You smiled giddily at his reaction, he had a look of extreme pleasure on his face as he nodded for you to keep going.

As you unbuckled his belt and took off his pants, he grabbed your hair and held it up for you, just the way he saw guys do when they we’re about to get head.

The move surprised you but not as much as when you pulled down his underwear. His dick was perfect in size, not small but not painfully big, girthy but not uncomfortably large. And the best part was the fact that it curved a little to the right. Fucking perfect.

“Big,” your ditzy mind couldn’t process more so you dipped and gave his tip licks before sucking on it.

His grip on your hair tighted as he gasped lowly when you started swirling your tounge around the sensitive tip. Azriel’s throaty whines and tighter hold on your hair made your eyes roll back.

Your tongue swiped across his tip, and it was warm. The sensation was even warmer when your lips wrapped around the head. God, and it was all so fucking wet and warm. Especially when you gathered the spit in your mouth, coating his cock as you pushed him deeper down your throat.

His stomach was on fire, face burning as he locked eyes with you — your mouth stuffed with his cock, big, doey eyes slightly watering when he was only halfway in. He had never really acknowledged how big he was, how the thickness of him would stretch out your lips like that.

And when you stuck out your tongue, dragging it along the vein on the underside of his cock, he nearly lost it. What little control he was desperately hanging on to. Because you on your knees before him, looking up at im with lustfull eyes was something he only ever thought of in his wildest dreams, but even then, nothing could compare to this feeling.

The feeling of your hand pumping what couldn’t fit into your mouth, spit drooling from the corners of your lips. Azriel was hyper focused on how your eyes never left his, his cheeks were on fire, the tips of his ears in flames, as he burned with every suck, lick, and stroke you gave.

And he was going to come, right down your throat if he didn’t warn you. The need to release raged in his lower stomach, his muscles worked twice as hard to reign it in. So, he cupped your cheeks with both hands, tilting your head so that your neck craned up at him. Through gritted teeth, he managed to bite out, “y/n, m’gonna cum.”

Your eyes widened with surprise because you hadn’t been sucking him off for long, but he was completely overwhelmed. Instead of pulling off like he expected, you only went back to it. Your motions quickened, your rhythmic pace abandoned as you worked him to the back of your throat.

You were determined to make him finish on your face. The thought excited you, imagining the sensation of his cum dripping down your cheeks.

And fuck if he didn’t finish. With your pleading doe eyes and sinful mouth, he succumbed to the pleasure, letting out a gasp of your name that pitched into a whine. He shuddered as his hips bucked upwards in jerky moves.

“Hah–holy shit, so-so good,” he whined, as he finally let go, busting ln your face, painting it white.

He collapsed above you, breathless and spent before he sat up immediately, his fingers tracing panicked circles on your stained cheek. “That was... incredible, and i’m sorry about your face. I-I’ll get something to remove it” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction wash over you.

You gave him a sultry look, your finger gliding across your face before you sucked on it. Then, with a seductive smile, you rose and settled into his lap.

“Still wanna fuck me, Azzie?” you whispered huskily, your voice dripping with desire.

The playful glint in your eyes ignited a primal desire within him, and he wasted no time in pulling you closer, his hands roaming eagerly over your body. “More than anything,” he whispered huskily, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss.

The kiss left you feeling a bit dizzy, your hands falling to your sides as you soaked in the intense sensation. Mid-kiss, he gently guided you onto your back, his lips pressed together in concentration.

He got on top of you, kissing your neck and chest, looking up at you and your expressions as he lined his cock up to your entrance, teasing and tapping your clit before pushing in with a groan.

Azriel was really fucking grateful that he had already come once, because surely with him sinking in slowly, your tight walls enveloping him in delicious heat, he would have come on the spot. Which would’ve been mortifying. Even more embarrassing than the needy moan he released when he bottomed out. It was louder than he intended, his eyes rolling back when you wiggled your hips to adjust to his size.

“Your dick feel amaaazing, m’sooo totally baking ya a cake after this,” you moaned, your eyes going crossed with pleasure as he pumped into you.

Azriel flashed you a shy smile as his brain went fuzzy with desire, body blushing from the heat coursing through his veins. His grip on your hips tightened, his movements finding a comfortable rhythm.

“So fucking tight, so good,” he whined, his forehead slumped against your shoulder as you wrapped your legs around his middle and your arms around his neck, reveling in his warmth.

Your nails scraped against his back, creating scarlet streaks as he kept rocking you into bed. Azriel felt like he was in heaven.

Azriel pumped into you, holding eye contact as he remembered everything he had learned, everything that allegedly made a woman go crazy. He brought down his thumb to circle your clit knowing it was something a lotta women liked. He just didn’t expect you to go absolutely stupid on him as he did.

You were moaning and writhing in pleasure, lost in the sensations Azriel was eliciting from you. He couldn't help but think that you looked much prettier than all those actresses with their over-the-top performances. Your pleasure felt real and genuine, and he loved seeing you like that, completely lost in the moment.

“mm-my goddd — harder, please,” you whined, nails digging into his back.

Azriel didn't dare to close his eyes, his gaze never leaving yours as he whispered about your beauty. A pressure built up in both of you, a shared desire that seemed to consume the room.

Azriel never swore. He thought it was a disgusting way for people to express themselves, and that only people who couldn’t use their words had to resort to it but he was breaking his own rule. You felt too good.

“You’re gorgeous, so fucking beautiful” he moans, hips thrusting at an unforgiving pace as you finally reached your high, moaning loudly, nails dragging across his back.

“Fuck, gon’ cum.” he panted, spilling his cum into your cunt. Azriel gave his final slow thrusts before he was pulling out of you, letting his cum seep out.

Azriel slumped next to you, eyes shut as he rolled onto his side, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. You released gentle sighs, snuggling closer to him, feeling completely at ease in his embrace.

“Did you… finish? Was it any good?” he asked as he kissed your neck tenderly

“Yeah, I came, like, really hard! You did a super good job, Azzie!! Totally the best i’ve ever had!” you said giddly as you crushed him in a hug

Azriel chuckled softly at your enthusiastic response, his lips trailing kisses along your neck. “I'm glad I could make you feel good, next time, I want to eat your pussy,” he murmured casually, returning your hug warmly.

Your eyes widened as your body warmed at his sudden and wish.

“Okay, only if i can ride,” you negotiated back with an exhausted smile.

Azriel nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before gently bringing you closer to him. He then reached for one of the nearby blankets and carefully wrapped it around you, ensuring you were snug and warm in his embrace.

You turned on the movie, snuggling close under the cozy blanket as it played softly in the background. With the comforting glow of the screen illuminating the room, you drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

—

“So? Are you just going to sit there, Az?” Cassian asked, practically on the edge of his seat

Azriel took a sip of his drink, unfazed by Rhysand's scrutinizing gaze.

“Yeah, we did it. Yes, it was good. Now stop asking,” he said, his tone casual yet firm.

Rhys leaned forward eagerly, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, come on, Az! We need more details,” he urged, his curiosity piqued.

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you fuckfaces don't. But thanks for the tips. We had a hell of a good time,” he replied, his tone carrying a playful edge as he stood up and left them with their jaw dropped.

“Did he just swear? Am I dreaming?” Cassian asked bewildered, looking over to Rhys with raised eyebrows.

“He did,” Rhys confirmed with a chuckle, raising his glass in a mock toast.

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marvelsmylife · 1 month

Text

Don’t go

Pairing: Cassian x reader

Plot: there was something about Cassian that you were really drawn to. You needed to be by his side at all time. What happens when he has to go on a very long mission by himself and you beg him not to go. Will he listen or will he break your heart and leave anyways.

a/n this is based off of this request. I'm sorry for all the angst I promise this is going to have a very happy ending in part two

warning: angst through and through. Everyone is worried for the reader. Azriel being really protective over the reader.

Part Two

The normally cool and collected Cassian was anxious as he flew home from an important four-month-long mission. Memories of the last conversation you shared haunted him for the last four months and he wondered if you still hated him for his harsh words.

“Please stay,” you cried as you watched Cassian pack for the mission he was assigned to tomorrow.

Being friends for years, you and Cassian were practically joined at the hip. You often found comfort in each other's arms and weren’t used to being separated for more than a couple of days.

This mission was different though. He was going to be gone for four months, and he didn’t know how he was going to survive without you for so long. It didn’t help that you also voiced your disapproval and was begging him to stay with you.

Growing frustrated by the argument, Cassian blurted out: “Gods y/n, no wonder you don’t have any friends besides us. You’re so damn clingy you're making me want to be as far away from you as possible!”

Cassian immediately regretted saying those words the second he saw you tearing up. “Well, wish granted,” you whispered, tears now cascading down your face: “I hope you have a miserable time on your mission,” and left before he could say anything.

The following day, Cassian left without saying a word to you. He was still so hurt by your reaction to him leaving that he thought it would be best to leave you alone to cool off.

What Cassian didn’t know was that you were an absolute mess when you discovered he left without saying goodbye. It took Rhysand calling Madja to sedate you for you to finally settle down and eventually fell asleep.

Your friends were worried about you as they watched you turn from a bright and cheery fae into a shell of your former self. Everyone tried to help you, but you kept your shields up and refused to talk to anyone.

Every night, they’d hear your cries for Cassian, and one of them would be there to rock you back to sleep. It got so bad that Rhysand was tempted to pull Cassian from his mission so he could possibly fix whatever was wrong with you. Of course, he couldn’t; the mission was too vital, and when he last spoke with him, he was close to whatever Rhysand needed.

When Cassian finally arrived home, he was expecting to be greeted by you and being bombarded with questions on how the mission went. He missed you and wanted to apologize for the fight that occurred between the two of you. Instead, he was greeted with silence. Not one of his friends was there to greet him. “Y/n? Rhysand? Is anyone home?” Cassian called out, thinking maybe no one was home.

“Yes, we just don’t want to talk to you right now,” Cassian heard Mor’s voice before the blonde finally appeared with a scowl painted on her face.

Cassian was surprised by the tone in Mor’s voice. “Gee, thanks for the warm welcome. I’ll be in my room, I guess.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Mor blocked Cassian’s path: “You are going straight to y/n’s room and apologize for what you said to her when you left four months ago.”

Cassian felt his throat go dry at the mention of your name. While he was ready to apologize for the fight, he thought because you didn’t hold grudges, he expected you to be over what he had said: “I know what I said was harsh, but she should be over what I said by now.”

“She isn't though, and she has every right to still be mad at you. She refuses to leave her room or eat, and we're taking turns being by her side at night because she has night terrors while screaming your name.” Azriel suddenly appeared and was ready to kick his brother's ass for what he had put you through: “If you don’t go and apologize for what you said to her, I’ll make you regret it.”

Cassian was surprised by Azriel’s threat towards him, especially because you two weren’t close before he left. Cassian felt a peg of jealousy at the thought of you getting close to Azriel while he was away. “Go apologize now!” Azriel repeated before leaving with the equally angry Mor following closely behind.

Cassian thought Azriel was exaggerating when he described your current state until he entered your room. He was absolutely devastated at the scene that was in front of him. Your normally neat room was messy, with you sitting at the edge of your bed staring out the window. As he got closer, he noticed your once radian face and healthy figure was replaced with an alarmingly thin body and a sunken face. “Y/n?” Cassian whispered.

“Oh. Hi Cassian,” you replied in a monotone: “I didn’t realize you were coming home today.”

Against his better judgment, Cassian stocked over to you and hugged you tightly. A part of him broke when you didn’t hug him back: “Y/n, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“There’s nothing you can do,” you replied, still not hugging him back: “Just let me be alone so I won’t annoy you or anyone else with my clinginess.”

Cassian shuddered at the realization you used his own words against him. He was about to start apologizing profusely when he heard Rhysand's voice in his head: My office. Now! Shaking off Rhysand’s words, Cassian tried to hold your hands, but you crossed them over your chest before he got the chance to: “Listen, I wanted to apologize for what I said when I was leaving for the mission. I know it’s not a good excuse, but I was stressed because I didn’t want to go in the first place. I wanted nothing more than to stay with you.” Cassian knelt down: "How about I take you out to dinner? We could discuss how we can rebuild our friendship?”

“Don’t bother,” you mumbled: “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Cassian felt like he was struck with an ash arrow at your words: “You don’t mean that.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you ignored him and got under your covers. Cassian wanted to join you and apologize repeatedly when he heard Rhysand’s voice again Cassian, get in my office this instant!

Cassian reluctantly exited your room, but just as he was about to leave, he said: “I’m sorry for causing you so much distress. I really hope you forgive me.”

#cassian imagine #cassian x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Text

Skin and Bones

Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary - Cassian barely knew who you were let alone your affections toward him. Determined to not play the Lord of Bloodshed's puppy, you kept quiet, silently waiting for the Mother to give you your chance. But, one Starfall, everything changes.

Warnings - pining, fluff, alcohol use, swearing

Based of this ask

The teasing had become a common occurrence.

It wasn't often that you left the confinements of The Library, but when you did, for whatever reason that would be, you'd always find yourself in the same place as the Lord of Bloodshed, and his mere presence encapsulated your attention enough to shush to to complete silence.

Cassian was a god-like specimen, the curves of his taut, trained muscle contorting with each movement, his hair pulled back into a well-maintained bun with slices falling over his face that faded down the sides to that impeccable beard ; he was ruggedly handsome, rough-hewn with sun-kissed golden skin, and brown-green eyes that made you weak whenever they passed over you.

He had only spoken to you twice, once when he asked if you were alright after you had dropped a stack of books upon seeing him, little did he know that you weren't just some clumsy researcher, but that you were awestruck upon seeing that carved from the mountains complexion and those large membranous wings. The other time he had spoken to you was to ask for a book that Amren needed, a request you had quickly granted, your giddiness drifting like ash in the wind when he took the book from your grasp with a small thanks and looked right through you.

Other than those two instances, Cassian hadn't spoken to you, it was like you didn't even exist to him.

You weren't the most ongoing female, you didn't find joy in sauntering about the room and throwing yourself onto any male who deemed you worthy enough. You were reserved. You were quiet to all but the ones who truly knew you well enough to say that you were by far the most complex thing in all of Velaris.

And that was saying something.

"He's never going to notice you when you hole yourself up in the corner like that," Mari drawled, rolling her eyes at you as you had, yet again, found Cassian laughing thunderously across the room and set your sights on him, "Go and talk to him."

Your friends had consistently tried to convince you to talk to him, to try and give you the confidence you needed to walk right up to the Lord of Bloodshed and tell him exactly how you felt.

"How long are you going to look at him until you just do it?" Rita's was teething with thumping music and swirling talk, it was the night of Starfall, and the entire of Velaris had moved from their own private celebrations to dance and drink the night away at the city's favourite bar.

Not taking your eyes off of him as he stood between his brothers, laughing like a giddy child with his white canines shining in the glittering light, you told Sia, "As long as I need to."

Sia scoffed, pushing her moon white hair back over her shoulder and allowing her silver gaze to tear into you, "Not good enough, Y/N."

Humming in agreement, Mari leaned over the white marble table and grasped you chin in her delicate fingers, "You look insane tonight. Don't waste it by sitting in that corner. Even the High Lady doesn't outshine you in that dress," Mari's dark pools of onyx and blue winked, her voice was as soft as summer rain.

"I'm not going to be a puppy that chases him around-"

"It'll happen when it happens and all of that crap," Sia waved her hand, reciting your weekly words, "And looking at him like that every time is doing what exactly?" Heat crept up your cheeks and you scowled, "Come on, we're dancing," Sia sank her drink, the delightfully tropical concoction that was once in her glass dissipating, "I'm not asking."

Mari was right. You did look incredible.

Red fabric doused in diamonds clung to every curve and shimmered in the faelight with every movement you took, an off-the-shoulder neckline which highlighted the hollowness of your collarbones, a high slit that reached your right thigh, matching lace gloves that kissed your elbows. Absolute perfection.

With a sigh, you slid your covered hand into Sia's who wasted no time in hauling you up and dragging you through a sea of intoxicated bodies to the centre of the dancefloor, just in case you changed your mind. Caging in the little mouse with no means of escape.

They were lucky to have been able to convince you to treat yourself for once, to buy a new dress and put makeup on, to give yourself something to look forward to. Sia and Mari knew how lonely The Library could be, though of course knew that you didn't mind one bit, you loved what you did, it had enabled you to travel the world and find things no male ever could. It was always about perspective, you had told them.

Sia placed her hands on your waist, making you sway to the beat of the music with her, your bodies moving like a ripple down the Sidra. Light fell over you, drifting through the crowd who were becoming lost in the thumping melodies, falling victim to the alcohol in their systems. It was Starfall, how couldn't they?

Your friend reached behind you, pulling the pin from your delicately wound updo, allowing your hair to flow down your spine and smiling as you ran your fingers through it, twirling around and feeling every hit of bass reverberate through your body.

Too busy losing yourself in the moment, you didn't feel a certain gaze floating over your figure, drinking in your large smile and giggles as you danced, drinking in the curve of your breasts and hips, "Who are you looking at?" Mor appeared next to him, swaying slightly from the amount of alcohol she had drank, crouching beneath his chin like it would help her focus on who had stolen his attention. "Oh, please tell me you're looking at Y/N."

"Y/N?" Cassian asked, puzzled, he tilted his head to the side, looking at your closer, the pretty eyes and soft features, the pure joy as you jumped to the music with your friend.

"Y/N? Prythian's most accomplished researcher?" Mor barked incredulously, in disbelief that anyone could have the gall to not know who the female was, "She's the most impressive person I've ever met."

"More impressive than me?" Cassian smirked at the golden-haired blonde, it was suggestive, it was teasing, it earnt him a sharp jab to the arm, "Ow," he rubbed over the clothed patch of skin, enjoying the feel of the silk black shirt he had decided to adorn that night.

"Way more impressive than you, Lord of Bloodshed," Mor finished the last of her drink and leaned into him, "I'm surprised you haven't noticed her before, she's always helping Azriel and Amren out with whatever they need."

That's it. Y/N.

Cassian knew who you were. The ditzy researcher that worked within the library in the River House, the one who had gotten that book for him one time, the one who had dropped a stack of tomes on her toes and repressed the squeal until she'd gone red in the face.

But surely that female wasn't you. You looked- you looked so radiant, practically glowing like a star in a sea of darkness, completely different to the grey-blue tunic pants you wore alongside a thick black woven jumper that drowned you.

"That's Y/N?" Cassian asked, shocked, narrowing his eyes on you when Mor nodded, "But, I've barely even noticed her, she's so quiet."

Azriel laughed then, loudly too, one that rumbled through his chest as he clasped Cassian's shoulder, "Y/N is not quiet," he told his brother, looking to you fondly, "She's the loudest thing ever actually, funny too."

"I've never heard her. I've barely noticed her existence."

Mor reached a finger out and flicked the pendent dangling from his neck, "Because she's not loud when you're around, silly."

A beat passed and Azriel let out a small, knowing, "Oh," like a lightbulb had flashed on in his brain, the penny dropping in his mind, and a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

"What?" Cassian asked, his gaze flickering between Azriel and Mor who were silently communicating with their eyes.

Mor smiled, "I think you should go and talk to her, say hi, happy starfall and all of that stuff," Mor gave him little option, pushing him from their ledge and onto the dancefloor.

Cassian rolled his shoulders and turned to Mor and Azriel with a scowl, they had taken a step closer to one another, whispering between themselves.

She was right though, he should be polite and wish you a happy starfall. Adjusting the open collar of his silk shirt, he moved through the crowd that parted like the Sidra before him until he saw a straight line guiding him to you.

Your friend saw him coming and dipped her head to him before taking a step back, smirking to herself at your complete unawareness of the situation as you twirled back to where you thought she was, only to meet a wall of rock hard muscle and wings that cast a shadow over you.

Dark amber, smoke, and cloves stung their way down your nose and into your lungs, it was the deepest breath you had ever taken. Those brown-green eyes that stalked your dreams were now peering down on you with splendid wonder, his entire figure curled around you, and you felt your heart beating a mile a minute.

"Hi," his voice was low and rough, his breath smelt like aged whisky, and his entire body heat made you feel like your skin was on fire, "Y/N, right?"

It took you a moment to respond, "Yeah," you replied, gravity shifting around you and the music dimming into a hum in your ears.

Cassian grinned, "I'm Cassian."

"I know who you are," the movement of your lips had him entranced, like they were moving in slow motion, he watched them peel from one another, he watched the movement of your tongue with every sweet syllable that moved through them.

It wasn't often that Cassian found himself speechless, it wasn't often that he stood before such an accomplished female and knew little to nothing about her, "Mor mentioned that you're a researcher, that you help Amren and Azriel sometimes. How come I know nothing about you?"

His eyes were hypnotising, "You've never looked long enough."

Cassian smiled, eyes glistening with approval as he took a step forward, laying a hand on you waist and sending an electrifying current over every inch of your skin, "Maybe I should."

You hummed, "Maybe it's time you did," you were doing everything you could to keep your soul from trembling, to keep your voice calm and stoic, to throw that confident façade up like a shield.

His finger, as rough and calloused as you had dreamed it would be, took a strand of hair and pushed it over your shoulder, his fingers grazing your collarbone on their retreat. "Dance with me?"

You spent the remainder of the night in his arms, dancing with him to the music, allowing his large hands to roam your body and ask questions about you that no one had ever bothered to.

It happened to be the most magical Starfall that either of you had ever celebrated.

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azriels-shadowsinger · 2 months

Text

“All you do is push me away. I'm done. Whatever this is, it's done.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: responding to this request. sorry this took forever, i started my new job this week! also, thank you for 400 followers!!

prompt list

“It will be fine, y/n!” Feyre reassures, rubbing a gentle hand down your back. You bite your lip anxiously.

“I don't know, Fey. It's already awkward enough trying to introduce my boyfriend to the high lord and lady, the general, and scariest of all, Amren.” You chuckle. “But seriously, I’m even more worried about Azriel. He’s been so weird and distant since we ended our... situationship?” You sigh heavily. “Whatever it was, he got all weird when it ended. I’m worried he’s gonna make tonight weird.” You whine.

“Rhys already talked to him. Azriel promised to be welcoming.” Feyre reassures

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You grumble. Truthfully, you knew very little about your new boyfriend, Wesley, and you had no idea how he would behave around your friends, but when Cassian caught you on a second date and blabbed about your new boyfriend to everyone, you had no choice but to introduce him to the group. Hopefully, Feyre was right that everything would be fine.

———

Everyone at the table was visibly uncomfortable, thanks to Azriel. He had spent the first half of dinner in a very tense silence, ignoring everyone’s attempts to interact with him. He only responded with mocking laughs under his breath at every other thing Wesley said. Rhys had tried to speak to Azriel in his mind, Feyre told you, but his walls were up and he refused to drop them.

You thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, but once the final course came out, Azriel switched from chilling silence to obnoxiously challenging everything you or Wesley said. You were going to kill him.

“So what do you do for fun, Wesley?” Feyre asks, attempting to alleviate tension.

“Uh, I like studying history.” He answers quietly. Azriel chokes down a laugh, and you internally groan at the most boring answer he could’ve chosen.

“Hm, that's weird y/n. I thought your usual type was...” Azriel eyes Wesley with distaste “much different.” You scowl at Azriel.

“I don’t have a type, Azriel.” You say defensively. “And if I did, it would be Wesley.”

“Sure it would.” He says smugly. “I seem to recall you have a preference for tougher guys, specifically Illyrians-“

“That is enough, Az.” Rhys commands, cutting Azriel off and using his high lord voice. Everyone sits quietly, not sure what to say next.

“I think I should leave.” Wesley says uncomfortably, breaking the silence and moving to stand. “Goodnight everyone, it was wonderful to meet you all.” He says with a forced smile before heading towards the door. You hurry after him, heels clicking loudly on the floor.

“Wes, please stay! There’s dessert, and I promise it won't be as awkward. I’ll make him leave.” You beg once you two are out of earshot.

“Don’t bother. You didn’t tell me you used to date him. That would’ve been great information to have going into tonight.”

“We never-“ he cuts you off.

“Save it. I have no interest in competing with the fucking spymaster. You are not worth the effort.” You visibly flinch at the harsh words and tears begin to form in your eyes, as he turns away. “I’ll see you around.” He mutters and leaves.

———

When you return to the dining room, Azriel is sitting there with a victorious smirk on his face, eating his dessert. One look at the rage in your eyes, and everyone else had the bright idea to leave you two alone.

“Are you happy now?” You holler.

“Kinda, yeah.” He says smugly. You let out a frustrated groan.

“You spiteful, ignorant, selfish male!” He laughs slightly at your outburst.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Could Wesley not take a little joke?” He grins.

“He broke up with me because of your gods damn immaturity!”

“Good. You can do better, he doesn’t deserve you.” Azriel replies nonchalantly.

“What the hell is your problem? Is this because I ended things between us?” That causes him to freeze, dropping any amusement from his face.

“No.”

“It is, isnt it? Well guess who’s fault that was! You don’t date, you told me so yourself. And any time I tried to get closer to you, you put up walls and shut me out.“ you let out an exasperated sigh. “Even now, all you do is push me away. So you know what Azriel? I'm done. Whatever this is, it's done.”

“There’s nothing to end, we aren’t dating. We aren't even fucking anymore.” He spits coldly, but you see the hurt lacing his features, matching your own.

“Yeah, I got that. Loud and clear.” You murmur. “Stay the hell away from me from now on.” You growl before exiting the room, leaving Azriel alone.

———

You had not so much as looked at him in three weeks, and it was driving Azriel crazy. He had assumed that with your now ex-boyfriend out of the way, you would eventually turn to him to resume your previous friends-with-benefits situation. He couldn’t help but miss your company.

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys sat around the table at Rita’s drinking whiskey. As soon as Azriel began complaining about you again, Cassian rolled his eyes, finished his glass of whiskey, and stood up.

“I’m tired of hearing about this every damn day. I’m getting another drink.” He grumbles.

Azriel wasn’t sure why he was bothered so damn much that you were avoiding him. Sure, he had plenty of females offering him pleasure every time he went out in Velaris, there were two eyeing him from across the bar right now, but he didn’t want them.

“Honestly, what I miss most about her isn’t even the sex.” Azriel admits, slurring his words slightly as the alcohol takes effect in his system. Rhysand’s ears perk up at this admission. Previously, Azriel had only ever admitted to missing the consistent sex or complained that you were overreacting, but this was new. Rhys wondered if Azriel even realized what he was saying.

“What do you mean, brother?” Rhys probes.

“I miss the nights we spent talking. And how somehow she managed to know exactly what I needed, without me having to say it.” Azriel downs the rest of his drink. “I just want things to go back to the way they were. Like when she would fall asleep next to me and I would actually be able to quiet my mind enough for once to fall asleep too. Or when she smiled and I felt all warm inside. I don’t even know why I shut her out when she asked about becoming more. Maybe because it scares me.” Azriel prattles on, talking to himself more than Rhys.

“You love her, you idiot.” Rhys states, which immediately pulls Azriel’s focus.

“That’s not… don’t do that Rhys. Don’t put shit into my head.” Azriel says defensively. Cassian returns with another round of whiskey for everyone.

“What did Rhys do?” Cassian asks casually as he passes a glass to each of his brothers.

“I informed Az that he’s in love with y/n.” Rhys smirks and sips his whiskey.

“I’m not-“ Cassian cuts Azriel off.

“You totally are!” Cassian laughs. Azriel huffs out a breath and downs his whiskey in one big swallow. There was no use arguing with his brothers once their minds were made up.

“I gotta go.” Azriel mumbles and storms out the door. Rhys and Cass just exchange knowing glances.

———

You hear someone banging on your door late that evening. You want to say you’re surprised to see Azriel when you open the door, but no one else would bother you this time of night. You just look at him expectantly, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“I was wrong before. I should've never pushed you away when you said you wanted more. I was just scared of how I felt and scared of getting hurt by you. I’m sorry for being a dick and I’m sorry for ruining that dinner with your ex-boyfriend, I just couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. Please, give me another shot.” Azriel has such a hopeful look in his eyes, waiting for your answer.

“I told you I was done.” You say, trying your hardest to stay calm and collected.

“But I-“ he takes a deep breath. “But I love you. Please, give me a chance to make things right.” You pause, mind reeling at the admission. As much as you want to admit the same thing, you can’t afford to get hurt by him again, so you do your best to calm your racing heart and force the words out.

“It’s too late, Azriel. I’m sorry.” You shut the door quickly before you can give in, immediately letting your tears fall once it's closed.

———

More weeks passed, and you eventually decided that you had to stop wallowing in self-pity and try to move on again. Wesley might have not been the one for you, but surely someone out there is.

You had decided to go out to Rita’s with Mor and eventually found a decently nice male to talk to. You two chatted for a while, and as the end of the night drew closer, you decided to shoot your shot.

“So, I don’t really do this, but do you wanna come home with me?” You ask the male nervously.” The lights of the bar turn on, indicating that it’s closing time.

“Yeah I-“ he pauses, looking you over. His eyes go wide and he backs away. “No. I can’t go home with you. I should’ve never talked to you.” He hurries off quickly, almost seeming frightened.

You turn towards Mor with a confused look, trying to ignore the hurt you feel from the harsh rejection. Did you really look that different with the lights on, you wonder.

The next day, you were in your room telling Feyre about the night before, trying to understand what went wrong.

“I don’t get it, Fey. We were having such a nice conversation. I was sure that he would agree to come home with me. But as soon as the lights came on and he saw me, he ran off. I didn’t think I looked that bad in the light.” You complain, flopping back onto your bed. Feyre choked on her drink for a moment, seeming startled.

“He didn’t…” she mutters to herself, shaking her head.

“What?” You sit up, confused. Feyre gets a far-off expression, likely speaking to Rhys in her mind about something. “What is it Feyre?” You ask curiously. She groans.

“The other day I overheard Az and Rhys talking, and Azriel made a joke about how he could just threaten all the males in Velaris that they can’t go anywhere near you. I assumed he was kidding, but I just asked Rhys about it, and apparently he wasn’t.” Feyre explains awkwardly.

“Are you kidding me?” You yell as you shoot up off the bed and storm out your door, muttering some apology to Feyre about having to leave.

———

You put a city-wide ban on dating me?” You scream angrily as you storm into Azriel’s room, not bothering to knock.

“Yeah, I did.” Azriel smirks at you.

“What the fuck Azriel? You don't have some claim over me! Call it off.” You shout.

“No.” His firm, unyielding voice gives you goosebumps.

“Stop it with the territorial male bullshit. It won’t change anything, so call it off!” You try to keep up the anger in your voice, but as Azriel stalks closer, you lose your boldness.

“I’m not calling it off.” His voice is dangerously low.

“Why not?” You mutter. Azriel leans closer.

“Because eventually you will realize that you still want to be with me, and when you do I don’t want anyone getting in the way of that.” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver slightly.

“I told you before. I’m done.” You try to sound confident, but it doesn’t come out quite right.

“Sure you are. Whenever you decide you wanna change that answer, I’ll be here.” He says with a wink. As you leave you feel conflicted. This may be the most territorial male bullshit you have ever witnessed, but you can’t help but smile slightly, realizing that Azriel basically just publicly announced his feelings toward you.

———

You lasted two days without returning to visit Azriel. You had told yourself it was to yell at him some more, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. Azriel opens his door after hearing you knock and looks genuinely surprised to see you.

“You win. You managed to scare off any decent male in Velaris. So congrats, I’m all yours.” You concede reluctantly.

“It was never about winning, sweetheart.” He shuts the door behind you, caging you between him and the door. You look up at him earnestly.

“Then what was it about?” You ask.

“It’s about getting a second chance to prove to you that I was an idiot. It’s about the fact that I will spend every single day for the rest of my existence trying to prove to you that I love you, and praying to the Mother that you decide to let me show you.” He whispers, leaning closer. You look up at him, seeing that hopeful look in his eyes again.

“Just one more chance?” Your voice comes out so soft he almost doesn’t hear you.

“One more chance, I promise that’s all I’ll need. I don’t plan on ever doing anything to mess it up again.” He answers sincerely.

“Okay then.” He doesn’t get a moment to process that you agreed before you pull his face towards yours, closing the gap between your lips. He immediately pulls your body into his and runs his hands through your hair.

“Thank the gods.” He murmurs into the kiss. You pull away for a moment.

“By the way, I love you too, Az.”

yes that last little bit about the dating ban was inspired by the deal by elle kennedy, but i just thought that was so funny and i believe without a doubt that Az could threaten all of Velaris to stay away from you

prompt list

taglist: @fxckmiup

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #my writing

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lalacliffthorne · 9 months

Text

because not even Azriel can sneak around forever, and it really is a wonder no one caught on earlier 🦇💜

(last part of the hickey drabbles)

this is the epitomy of giddy squeals and giggles, I´m so happy right now *kicks feet and squeals*

Tipping my head to the side, I stared at Azriel. His shoulders were propped against the foot of the bed as his eyes moved calmly over the pages of the book he was holding, his rough fingers absentmindedly stroking over my calf, and my heart drummed steadily against my ribs as I watched the warm morning light cast him in a golden hue.

“You think the others would notice another hickey?”

Azriel's eyes darted up from the pages and narrowed, and I almost choked on a snorted giggle when his fingers wrapped around my ankle and jerked me down and over the mattress. I heard the thud of his book landing on the floor, then his hands closed around my hips, and my breath caught in my throat when he dipped his head and his tousled hair brushed over my bare stomach.

I could feel Azriel's lips curve upwards. Then he slowly pressed his lips against my skin.

My heart leapt high, my hand darting out to slip into his hair as my eyes fluttered, and Azriel shifted, pushing my legs apart as he started to ghost his lips over my skin, his nose leaving a track of goosebumps in its wake. Every few seconds he lingered, pressing his lips against my skin, nipping and biting softly.

Something began to coil in my stomach, a flutter growing under my ribs, becoming stronger and stronger as Azriel slowly trailed up my stomach, his rough fingers closing around my sides as he gently nipped at the soft skin under my breasts. My breath stuttered, and I could feel his lips curving upwards when I dug my fingers into his hair.

Raising his head lightly, Azriel trailed his nose over the valley between my breasts and my neck as he moved up my body. Then his breath hit my cheek, and I forced open my eyes that at some point in the past minutes had fluttered shut, my own breath quick and unsteady as I tried to suppress the urge to swallow.

One corner of Azriel's lips slowly rose until a light crease formed in his cheek, his golden eyes twinkling in the soft light. Then he dipped his head and kissed me slowly.

I inhaled softly and sharply and slipped my hand up his chest, feeling my fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as they curved around the back of his neck and I kissed back.

A low sound left the back of Azriel's throat, and he moved closer, his bare chest pressing into mine as his knee pushed into the mattress between my thighs and his hand slipped to my jaw to tilt my head back as he deepend the kiss. His tongue brushed lazily over mine, and everything in my stomach curled as my heart thrummed into my throat.

With a crash, the door was thrown open; something jumped high in my chest when I pulled back quickly, eyes wide, and Cassian froze. His gaze darted over the scene in front of him; me, only in underwear, Azriel hovering above me wearing pyjama pants and no shirt, fresh scratches on his bare back, wings spread protectively –

My heart fluttered into my throat.

Seems like there was no getting out of this one.

For a second, I felt Azriel tense. But then he just scowled lightly and raised a brow at his brother.

“What?”

Cassian blinked, and he squinted as slowly, his lips began to form a shit-eating grin. Then he turned his head lightly to call over his shoulder: “Mor?”

Azriel's scowl deepend, and shadows rose, slamming the door into Cassian's face. There was a muffled, snorted laugh from the hall, then Cass yelled loudly: “Feyre?!”

I winced, and Azriel breathed a groan, body deflating and collapsing onto mine, pulling me with him as he rolled onto his back and buried his face in my hair. Then he grumbled: “They're going to be –“

“Relentless,”, we finished in unison, and my heart flipped softly when I could feel Azriel smirk lightly into my hair.

Hesitating for a second, I propped myself up to stare down at him. His eyes were tired, and a little grumpy, but there was something dancing in his iris that looked suspiciously like amusement.

I blinked before slowly narrowing my eyes, and suddenly, my heart skipped a second.

“You knew he was coming, didn't you?”

Azriel shrugged, his honey colored eyes dragging over my face as one corner of his lips quirked upwards, and I opened my mouth.

“You could have locked the door!“ Staring at him, I lost the fight against my lips that desperately wanted to form a stupidly wide smile, and Azriel easily caught my hand before I could hit his biceps, his eyes bright when he grinned and pulled me into his chest.

I huffed into his skin before twisting my neck to stare up at him, trying my best to send him a glare.

“If they'll use this against us for the next century, I'm fully blaming you.”

Azriel stared down at me, one corner of his lips rising until a crease formed in his cheek. Then he blinked, and for a second, he looked a little cautios, his gaze moving over my face.

“Are you alright?”, he mumbled, not adding with this even though it rung through his voice, and something rose in my chest, skipping and fluttering when slowly, I started to smile, wide and cheekily.

“Eh.” I shrugged, resting my chin against his chest. “They would have found out eventually.” I furrowed my brows. “Besides, it was getting sort of annoying, not being able to just kiss you whenever I wanted.”

Azriel blinked, and my breath hitched when his eyes dragged over my face, his lips beginning to curve upwards, up and up until creases formed in his cheeks and his eyes twinkled.

I barely kept myself from swallowing harshly, because Gods, he was just unfairly beautiful, and instead just stared back, feeling my heart skip and hop with every beat. Then I blinked.

“They're going to come up here if we don't go downstairs, right?”

“Probably.” Azriel's eyes were shining with amusement, and breathing out and grumbling softly under my breath, I dragged myself up. Slowly climbing off the mattress, I picked up his discarded shirt from the ground, the cotton soft when I pulled it over my head and felt a wave of his scent of wash over me.

“Alright.” I held out my hand. “Let's get this over with then.”

Azriel huffed but slipped his fingers between mine, and I dragged him to his feet, tipping my head back to look up at him. One corner of Azriel's lips quirked, and I deadpanned and turned around.

Trudging down the stairs, I could feel Azriel behind me, his shadows brushing over the back of my legs and my hands, like a silent assurance for him as well as for me. When I threw a look at him over my shoulder, he was running a hand through his hair, his eyes glowing like amber in the warm morning light falling through the windows in the staircase. He caught my gaze, and a light twinkle flashed through his iris.

When I walked into the living room, Mor and Feyre, sat on the couch, raised their heads, and Cassian looked over his shoulders.

Mor squinted, tipping her head to the side in mild confusion as her eyes flickered over me, in the way too big shirt and with my hair probably still a mess, and her brows furrowed.

“So… the gigantic revelation is that Y/N slept in?”

“Shocking.” Feyre sounded dry as she sent me a grin, and I was just about to scowl when both Mor's and Feyre's eyes darted towards something behind me, and without turning around I knew that Azriel had appeared behind me. In pyjama pants, with equally messy hair and tired eyes.

Mor blinked while Feyre furrowed her brows. I could see the cogs turning in their heads while Cassian was practically vibrating on the spot, a shit-eating smirk on his face.

The air shifted behind the couch, and Rhys appeared out of darkness, straightening the lapels of his jacket and raising his brows. “Alright, what's so important?”

Cassian grinned widely.

After a few more second of silence, Azriel seemed to grow tired of waiting. He huffed and stepped closer; his chest brushed against my shoulder, and he lazily slipped a hand over my waist and tugged me back into his body.

Mor's and Feyre's eyes grew comically wide in unison.

“Oh!” Mor's mouth fell open as she pointed wildly at us. “Oh!”

“There it is,”, I mumbled under my breath, and I could feel Azriel drop his head to hide his light grin in my hair.

“What?!” Feyre gaped.

Rhys tipped his head to the side. “Huh.” Slowly, one corner of his lips quirked, and Azriel scowled at him over my head - likely in respone to something the High Lord had uttered in his mind, because Rhys' grin widened until it matched the one Cass was still wearing.

“You and you!” Mor looked torn between elated and pissed. “You two incredible shitheads!”

Rhys snorted, but Azriel just huffed, and when I threw him a look, his eyes were bright and twinkling as he loosely draped his arm over my collarbones.

My heart flipped and fluttered, and I almost groaned.

He was enjoying this.

Shithead.

“Wait, how did you –“, Feyre pointed at Cassian, and the General squinted.

“Let's put it this way;”, his lips twitched, “I am never walking into either one of their rooms again without waiting for a come in.”

“To be fair, you shouldn't do that anyway.” I pointed at him.

“Wait…” Mor was suddenly staring at us, her lips slowly curving. “How long have you two been sneaking around?”

I shrugged. “Few months?”

“Shitheads,”, Cassian whispered, but Mor didn't seem to hear him, because her eyes grew wide, and she reached out to grab Feyre's shoulder. Shaking it lightly, her thoughts seemed to be blaring, because suddenly, Feyre's eyes became big as well, and like one, they pointed at us.

“Hickeys!”, it echoed in glee, and Azriel groaned and buried his face in my hair.

I blinked. Then I felt my lips twitch as I slowly started to smile, bright and cheekily.

Cassian's eyes widened subtly, and his shoulders began to shake as he chortled. “Oh Gods.”

Rhys beamed, and while Mor and Feyre started cackling, Azriel tightened his grip around me and dropped his head. My breath hitched when his hot breath brushed over my neck, then his deep voice sounded next to my ear, grumbling: “You're right. This is entirely my fault.”

part I part II

#azriel #az #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel x female!reader #azriel/reader #az x reader #az imagine #az/reader #acotar x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel drabble #lalacliffthorne

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sarawritestories · 3 months

Text

Unwavering Presence Chapter 2

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: After the first week at the Night Court the Archeron Twins are going back to the spring court. But Y/N comes back with a souvenir of her own a parting gift from the High Lord of the Night

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.1K

Chapter 1

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl

A/N: Honestly I am blown away by the love and support you all sent me for the first chapter. This is kind of a fluffy chapter. I have been sick so I apologize if this isn't as good!

It was the end of the week and Feyre was thrumming with excited energy. I knew she could not wait to go back to the Spring Court. After that night and meeting that handsome male-Cassian, I didn’t venture out around the manor at night nervous to run into him again. When I had a Nightmare, I just sat at the armchair in the room and watched my sister’s chest rise and fall until I found my eyes drooping. I always awoke with a blanket wrapped around me the next morning.

Feyre smiled, “Ready to go ho-“She paused, “Back today?”

I shrugged, “Ready as I’ll ever be, but right now I just would like some breakfast.” I paused and gave her a pointed look. “Do you think you can try to be nice to our host.”

Feyre straightened her nose sticking up in the air, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am as civil as always.” She looked beautiful in her Night court outfit. It was teal with sheer sleeves that show a bit of midriff with matching pants. I was in something similar in peach tone but mine was a skirt with slit that ran up to my thigh. Feyre looped her arm into my own and when we opened the door, we found Rhysand on the other end ready to knock. “Oh hello, High Lord we were just coming down to have breakfast with you.” Feyre put on her fakest smile that enticed an unladylike snort to come out of me.

“Oh wonderful, if you don’t mind Feyre Darling,” I noticed she scowled at the nickname, but Rhysand continued, “I would like to speak to your sister in private for a moment.”

Feyre’s nostrils flared, “Absolutely I mind, you wil-”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed interrupting her, “Fey, it’s fine. We’ll meet you in the dining room.” Feyre looked at me and I gave her an affirming nod and squeezed her arm.

Feyre released my arm and bumped Rhysand’s shoulder with force and the High Lord smiled in response, “Are you some kind of masochist, High Lord? Its almost like you enjoy getting hurt by my sister.” I raise a brow as I see him rub his hand behind his neck and…Blushing. “Oh my, you do like when she’s mean to you.”

Rhysand puts his hand down, “I do not, hush, you remind me of the General of my armies. He’s a smartass like you.”

I smirk, “I look forward to meeting him sometime.” Rhysand’s face shifts to something more serious, “Am I in trouble?”

The High Lord’s brow furrowed, “Not at all, should you be?”

I began rocking my weight back and forth from each foot out of nervousness, “I may have snuck into the library the day we got here.”

Rhysand huffed a laugh, “Hope you found some good reading material, but no. I just wanted to make sure you are doing since…” he didn’t need to finish his thought for me to know what he was talking about.

I give him a smile, “I’m fine, Rhysand-“

“Rhys. You can call me Rhys.” He interrupted.

Rhys is what Cassian had called him in the library. “Okay, Rhys, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think you need to worry about me.” I bit my lip. Its Feyre you should be worried about she won’t talk to me about what happened Under the Mountain.

“I can worry about multiple things at once,” Rhys countered I met his violet gaze and noticed that stars that winked out at the seriousness in his tone, clearly not realizing that I had said that out loud. He took a step closer and gripped my hand to lift my eyes, his eyes drifting over to the yellowed bruise from Tamlin’s grip a week ago. “Are you treated well in his court?”

I was taken aback by his question, “I’m not sure what you’re asking me, Rhys.” I murmur lightly tugging my hand away and he lets me. “Tamlin has made is love for Feyre known. He is…good.” I gritted out the last word.

Rhys tucked his hand into his pocket. “You don’t have to say or tell me anything if you don’t want to. I know you are protective of your sister. I just want you to know that if you want to talk or need to let out some steam, you are free to do so, while you’re here.” He gave me a tight smile and was about to exit.

“We don’t like each other.” Rhysand paused at the door not turning to face me I kept going, not sure why I was sharing, “I think he didn’t like that Feyre and I are a package deal. I don’t know for certain why he is cold and…aggressive toward me. I can tell you that the wedding was the first time that he put his hands on me.”

Rhysand turned around and walked toward me and gripped my hand, “Make a bargain with me.”

“What for? I’m not dying anymore.” I felt Rhys give my hand a light squeeze, “I can take care of myself you know..”

Rhys smiled, “I know you can, Y/N, I am specifically asking for a bargain, because if we have a bargain, we will have a direct line of communication.”

I gave him a doubtful look, “Why would I need that?”

Rhys smile fell and his face turned serious which caused me to straighten my spine, “In case you need my help, I’ll know where to find you.”

My brow furrowed, “Why do you care? What do you benefit from ensuring I’m safe?”

Rhys sighed frustratingly, “Maybe I’m concerned with how your sister would feel, if something would happen to you. Maybe it’s because you were the first person to look me in my eyes and tell me you trusted me and looked at me as something other than Amarantha’s Whore. Or maybe I’m just trying to be your friend because correct me if I’m wrong, you could really use one.”

I looked at our entwined hands, and I met his eyes again, “A friend would be nice. What are the terms?”

“All I want is for you to ask for help if you need it. In return I will do whatever you wish within reason of course.”

I playfully sigh, “So turning Tamlin into a rat is not an option, got it.” He chuckled low and deep as you thought about what you want, thinking back to that night in the library and drifting to the warm honey eyes I met there. Rhys’ cough brought me back from my thoughts for a moment I thought he had brief smirk but, in a blink, it was gone, “I can’t read very well.” I blurted and that caused his eyes to widen, “Would you be willing to teach me how to read and write?”

Rhys blinked, and then smiled, “Of course. A bargain then.”

I shake his hand, “A bargain.” A light flashed and an intricate black tattoo of whirls and stars wrapped around my wrist. “These really are beautiful.”

Rhys took my hand and looped that arm around his, “Come now, we must not keep that ill tempered twin of yours waiting.”

You laughed as we left our room, “What do I say about this,” I raise my wrist, “when they inevitably, ask about it. When she asks about it?”

Rhys shrugged, “Whatever you see fit. If you want to paint me out as the villain who tricked, you into a bargain say so. I just wanted you to have a way to reach me.”

We reach the dining room Feyre quietly talking to Mor, Rhys’ cousin that we met in the middle of this week, “Careful, Rhys, keep this up and I am going to start thinking you’re a nice Fae male.” I kissed his cheek and made my way into the dining room.

Feyre stood, and gave me a warm smile, “Are you ready?” I gave her a nod and look back at Rhys who tucked a hand in his pocket and Feyre lifted her chin, “We would like to go home now.” I bristled at her calling it my home but let it slide.

Rhys nodded and held out both his hands and I extend the arm without the tattoo, in his hand Feyre taking the other, and Mor calls out, “See you next month, Ladies.”

I turn and give her a smile and wave and I can see Feyre’s eyes go wide at the tattoo. Darkness begins to swirl as I look back at the door to the hallway and my breath hitched seeing Hazel eyes and flashes of red before the darkness consumed us.

In a moment we were back in the warm heat of the Spring Court. “See you next month, ladies.” And with that he was gone, my gaze lingered on where he was.

I was whipped around by my sister as she lifted my left arm, “What did you do?”

I whipped my arm back and walked toward the manner cross my arms tucking my tattooed wrist hidden, “Rhys offered something I wanted, I made a bargain.”

“What could he possibly have that you could have wanted,” Feyre hissed trying to keep up with my pace. “Especially something that Tamlin can’t provide here.”

I glare at her, “Like how he has been so great at providing you the emotional support when you throw up every night. Right?” Feyre went silent, “That’s what I thought. Feyre as I said before, I love you, but I am my own person and can make my own decisions. Please stop treating me like I’m a child.” Lucien was standing in front of the manor, and I storm inside ignoring the red headed male and make a beeline for my room and slam my door and sitting in the armchair by my window. I felt a warm tingle on my wrist. I looked at my left arm and another wave of warmth tingled my wrist. “Thanks Rhys,” I smiled and leaned my head against the head rest and drifted off into sleep thinking of those warm eyes and beautiful smile.

Cassian POV

I spent every evening in the library this past week, in hopes I would see Y/N again. Rhys had told us that we wouldn’t see Feyre but when I had walked into that library and saw her soft eyes that gleamed in the dark fae lights and the ease it was to talk to her.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” Mor questioned her brow quirked. Her face brightened, “Is there a lucky male or Female warming your bed Cas?”

I choked on the bite of my breakfast, “Mother above, Mor. Why would you think that?

“Because you have been staring at your eggs like they wrote you a beautiful love sonnet to you. I would have to assume that someone is warming your bed.” Mor’s threw him saccharine grin.

Before I could answer Rhys returned, his face tight, his eyes met mine, “Well that went as well as I anticipated.” Rhys muttered sitting at the table and the house provided him with breakfast. He began to eat, “I made a bargain with Y/N.”

My eyes snapped to my brothers, “You did?”

He nodded and took another of bite, I move my gaze to Mor, she shrugged and asked, “Why?”

Rhys mouth tightened, “Tamlin got a little aggressive, when I picked them up on Feyre’s wedding day. He had gripped her tight,”

I gripped my glass firmly and I thought about our brief encounter. There had been a bruise on her arm, I just didn’t know where it was from. “Did you ask her about it?”

“She chalked it up to those two just not getting along but I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone.” Rhys smirked, “Though I will say she may have had hazel eyes on her mind this morning,” He met my gaze as heat crawled to my face. “Any particular reason why, Cassian?”

Mor’s gasped, I shot her a glare, “I may have met her in the library the day the two of them got here.” I took a sip of my tea, “I didn’t do anything nefarious, just talked with her,”

Rhys held up a hand to stop me, “I know, her thoughts were loud, and it just feels like she was comfortable here and comfortable with her interactions with both of you.” He gave a smile, “Thank you, both.”

I took another sip of my tea and murmured, “Can you imagine when those two meet, Azriel?”

Mor giggled, “Cauldron spare them.”

Rhys smiled, “Indeed.” Then the three of us finished our breakfast and my mind drifted to red silk, and doe eyes.

Chapter 3

#cassian x reader #cassian fanfic #cassian imagine #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian #archeron sister #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x you #acotar series

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starsxblazing · 3 months

Note

Could i request and azriel fic where he had a crush on reader for years but didn’t act on it because he wss fixated on this whole three brothers and three sisters thing. But he realised that he and elain don’t have anything in common so they stay friends and he tells her about reader. When he sees her again she had a child with another illyrian but they aren’t together. Her son is maybe 2-3 years old, he starts to spend more time with her as friends but he knows that he still loves her. The bond snaps for him but he doesn’t say anything yet. He basically moved her into his home because he wants them to be together every minute. (Some dadaz and son time would be cute. ) They all sit at dinner with the inner circle and readers son calls him dad, cassian and rhys are both happy for their brother and thats when the bond also snaps for reader. Just fluff and daddy az ? Where he shows him how to fly and tell the babe how he is going to be a big brother.

That may be long, so if you don’t want to write something that long, then thats also fine 🫶🏼

a/n: I can't say enough just how much I love seeing the batboys being fathers

Azriel x Reader

Yours Truly

Azriel hated going to the war camps and always avoided it whenever he could. Despite his feelings, Rhysand had ordered him to go with Cassian to check in with them since the war was drawing closer. He glanced around as they made their way into the heart of the camp, noting the variety of women and children scattered about. There were far more here than at any of the other camps and whereas all Illyrians treated their women horribly, it wasn’t as bad here.

He sat back in the meeting and let Cassian do the talking, being merely backup if it was needed. It was all that he could do to keep his attention on the conversation but his need to leave had him restless. No sooner than his brother could turn to leave the tent, Azriel beat him to it. They all knew how he felt so Cassian continued on behind him in silence as they gauged the training.

They hadn’t made it halfway to the training rings before a body collided with his. He took a step back before kneeling down and extending a hand to help. When you looked up at him, he noted the beauty in you that was much different than any other Illyrian female. You smiled sheepishly at him but placed your hand into his. His eyes scanned over you briefly and hoped that you didn’t notice it but when he met your gaze again, you were grinning. It took him off guard because everyone in the camps usually shied away from him but here you were, unafraid of his intimidating stare.

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled as his eyes locked on your hand that you hadn’t pulled away.

“I’m Y/N.” You gave him a smile that he could have sworn was apologetic. “Sorry about-”

“Y/N!!”

You spun on your heels to see the male calling your name. He watched your body go tense and could taste the fear coming off of you in waves. There were similarities between you and the male and judging by the scowl, you weren’t treated well at home. The male grabbed your wrist with an iron grip that caused you to wince and he instantly bristled in anger. This was one of the main reasons that he hated being around other Illyrians.

“I was just going to-”

“I hope you had the good decency to apologize for your carelessness,” the male growled as he pulled on you.

He wasn’t sure why it was you in particular that he suddenly felt so protective of but chalked it up to the fact that he usually didn’t see the mistreatment right in front of him. Without thinking, he wrapped his hand around the male’s wrist with a force that had him immediately letting go. A growl escaped him and the man that he assumed was your father stumbled backwards.

“You can leave,” he snapped and the male had enough of his own sense to scurry away.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft as you rubbed your wrist.

“Pleased to be of service,” he replied drily, earning another smile from you.

“I really didn’t mean to run into you.”

Glancing behind him, Cassian had disappeared and he wasn’t sure if he had seen the interaction. It didn’t matter either way but he suddenly didn’t have the urge to leave. There was something about you that had him debating whether he should leave or not, knowing that you would suffer repercussions once you returned home. You shifted your body when he glanced at your wings.

“Do you want to fly?” he asked suddenly, surprised with himself for such an outburst.

“I- Uh- Can’t,” you mumbled, the words almost incoherent.

“With me,” he corrected.

Azriel watched you carefully and felt hope blossom within him when you turned to look behind you. There was a hopefulness in your eyes but the reluctance was written in your body. A silent sigh of relief passed his lips when you nodded slightly. He chuckled when he grabbed you quickly and shot into the air and a quiet scream left you.

Once he leveled out in the air, your eyes immediately scanned the landscape with awe and wonder on your face. It eased some part of his heart that he hadn’t realized had tightened as he watched. There was no questioning the peace that you were now feeling for a partial experience of what you could never have yourself.

You had difficulty tearing your eyes away from the beautiful scenery as you flew in the spymaster’s arms. It was no secret who he and the general were and you had felt embarrassed that you had run into him. Surprisingly, there was no fear of him that most people had but you did feel safe for a change in his arms. Not to mention the fact that you had been even more surprised when he had scared your father off. Nobody had ever bothered to protect you and your opinion of the Night Court leaders were heightened just for that alone.

Your father was in one of his moods and nothing that you did was right in his opinion no matter if he had been drinking or not. He had screamed at you for fifteen minutes but as soon as he raised his hand, you sprinted through the door. It all led you to being able to fly even if it wasn’t your own doing before Azriel landed on top of one of the mountains.

“This is beautiful.”

Your breath puffed in front of you before being swept off by the wind as you stared in awe. When you looked back at him, he was watching you intently and you suddenly felt self conscious. You gave him a small smile that he returned but his gaze never left you, even as he moved closer. Warmth rolled off of him from the few inches that he left between you both and you found so much comfort in it. You couldn’t remember the last time that you felt this way and your heart begged you not to let him leave.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere else and you ended up sitting up under a snow covered tree while he asked you questions about your life. You had been so lost in conversation that you didn’t notice at first when his hand wrapped gently around yours. The small act caused your heart to race and you had no interest in pulling it away.

Time passed you by too quickly for your liking despite the fact that enough had gone by for the sun to now be descending in the sky. By the time that he was gathering you in his arms, you were praying to the Mother that he would come back to see you again.

Azriel brushed Cassian off when he returned home and his brother began to interrogate him. He didn’t want to talk about how he was feeling, especially not when he had to figure it out himself. A quiet nagging in his heart wouldn’t let him leave without knowing more about you and he hated having to leave you alone.

He returned to the camp at any opportunity that he had and lost more sleep than he could keep up with just to see you. If what he felt for Mor was love, then what he felt for you was indescribable. It surpassed reason but he couldn’t stay away, not even when he began questioning Elain’s mating bond. The entire situation didn’t make any sense to him, especially when he felt sour when he thought about it.

“Oh, gods!”

His heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. He had just gotten back from rescuing Elain from Hybern’s army and the last person that he expected to see was you as he was being forced into one of the healing tents for his injuries. You watched him with caution, tears lining your eyes while you took in every injury that he had. It caused his heart to clench as his love for you spread through him.

“What are you doing here?” The question came out as if he was out of breath, as if he hadn’t had time to come down from the adrenaline rush. “We’re in the middle of a-”

“War? Yea, I noticed,” you replied, staring pointedly at him. “I’m here helping out. I’m nothing spectacular but I can still help with some parts of the healing process.”

Your words hit him like a stone to the chest. He wanted so badly for you to see yourself differently but he was momentarily stunned into silence as you approached him. You knelt before him and began the process of washing the blood off of him. Every touch was surprisingly gentle even though he could barely think through the close proximity. It didn’t make much sense to him since the both of you were always close together whenever he visited but it was somehow different this time.

“You are.” His throat felt tight and the burning in his eyes started when he remembered that you were treated horribly by his own people. “More than you know.”

Your eyes flicked to his and there were still unshed tears in your eyes. He watched your throat bob before you ducked your head down to continue cleaning and wrapping his injuries. There was nothing that he wouldn’t give to know what you were thinking but he didn’t have time to question you before Rhysand walked in.

“Y/N?” The High Lord raised a brow at her as she looked sheepishly at him. “I thought you were going to bed.”

“Well, I was but I heard Thesan saying that someone was injured and a healer was coming so I thought that I’d help out.” All of the words escaped you all in one breath as you shifted in what he assumed was worry. “I didn’t think it would hurt to help one more person.”

“You’ve been working hard all day,” his brother replied gently, his eyes darting between the two of you. “Although I have to admit that my shadowsinger is in good hands.”

“I’m doing all that I can,” you laughed quietly, the sound causing his heart to clench. “I promise I’m done for the night once I’m done here.”

The High Lord nodded, his face still tender but when you looked away, there was mischief in his eyes. Azriel blocked it out and his attention refocused fully on you. His injuries weren’t as bad as he thought and definitely weren’t anywhere near as bad as his wings were. She took note of said wings before meeting his gaze.

“I wish I could do something to help,” you muttered. “I wish I had some form of special healing magic and-”

“You’re special just as you are.”

Your eyes went wide in surprise and despite his pain, he stood and pulled you up with him. He pulled you into him, enjoying your warmth against him that suddenly had him feeling ten times better. There was an underlying feeling that he couldn’t describe pulling at his heart and he was content to stay like this for the rest of his life.

It wasn’t until Elain suddenly returned to his mind that he pulled away. In no way would it be fair to you to string you along whenever he was sure that the Cauldron had been wrong. He took a step back and the sudden pain in your gaze had him taking a deep breath.

“You really should get some rest,” he mumbled as he took a few more steps back to place distance between the both of you. “Thank you for your help.”

A simple nod was all that he got before you ran from the tent, taking a piece of his heart along with you.

You couldn’t wrap your head around what the shift in Azriel was about. His heart had picked up its pace just before he pulled away from you. It was unusual for him to do so unless it was time for you to part ways but something about it was different this time. The feeling felt more like a goodbye and it was one thing in particular that you had a hard time swallowing.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You turned to see who was calling for you and it was the exceptionally good looking Illyrian that had flirted with you earlier while you tended to his minor wounds. A thought passed your mind that you would enjoy the attention from him in hopes that it would drive your thoughts away from the shadowsinger.

“You look like you’re healing well,” you laughed, suddenly feeling shy as his full attention stayed on you as he moved closer.

“I think I have one that needs to be rewrapped if you don’t mind taking a look at it.”

You knew what the underlying meaning was and you also knew that it was wrong. Despite that, you followed him to the tent with the intention to forget and chase away the weight that came with war.

The male was already gone from his tent the next morning and you were surprised that you had slept in a bit longer than you meant to. By the time you were up and dressed, you could hear the war beginning. You simply stood with the other healers and waited and watched with both dread and hope.

There was so much work to be done when it was over that you didn’t have time to look for the male that you had so desperately fallen in love with. It did hurt your heart a bit when you were told that both your father and brother had died in the war but you weren’t particularly sorry for it. There was even a tinge of pain when the male that you had fallen into bed with was announced deceased as well.

You made a half hearted attempt to look for Azriel but had given up when it seemed like he had disappeared. If nothing else told you that it was truly an act of farewell, the fact that he was staying hidden from you did. With a sigh, you followed one of your close friends back to your camp.

It was strange returning home to an empty house but there was a sense of relief knowing that you would no longer be critiqued about every little thing that you did. A passing thought of being forced unwillingly into a marriage crossed your mind. That thought officially left your mind a month later when your best friend, Iris, found you on the outskirts of the camp by the bushes as you lost your stomach for the third time that day.

“You’re..” The sound of Iris sniffing came from behind you as the female rubbed your back soothingly. “You’re pregnant.”

“What!?”

You spun so quickly that it had your head spinning and you vomited yet again. High Fae had an incredibly hard time having children but it appeared that the lesser ones didn’t. Azriel came to your mind again, the thought of him hurting you just as much as before. There wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t think about him and it didn’t tear your heart into.

You were foolish to think that someone as important and special as he was to actually want you just as much as you wanted him. Even if he had, you highly doubted that he would now that you were carrying a deceased male’s child. That thought also hurt because your child would grow up without a father and be shunned because he was a bastard child.

Iris was there for you throughout the entire pregnancy no matter what was said about either of you. She was a great friend and you couldn’t be any more thankful for her. She was due to be wed a week before you gave birth and for that, you were thankful as well.

The labor was long and hard but thankfully successful either way and as you held your newborn son in your hands, you felt a love like no other in the world.

Azriel had questioned Elain’s mating bond for four years and even after that, he fell in love with her. Or at least he thought that he had. He had been sure that he was the one meant for her since his brothers had been mated to the female’s sisters. Most of the time, he sat in the garden with her while she chatted away in happiness. There had been a change in her over the last couple of months as she began to spend time with her mate.

He didn’t have much in common with her and no matter how much time had passed, he still couldn’t get you off of his mind. He felt horrible for disappearing on you without a word but at the time, he felt that it was the best course of action. You deserved to be loved and appreciated but what you deserved more was an explanation. He had never been good with expressing his emotions but he should have tried harder with you.

“- And Lucien says that the scenery in Spring Court is beautiful.”

His thoughts of you had tuned out Elain’s one sided conversation but the fact that she was talking about her mate and not him made him feel at ease. He hoped that he wouldn’t be breaking her heart as he had undoubtedly done yours. Then again, there was also the possibility that you may have very well been married off since your father and brother had passed in the war. You deserved happiness but he desperately wanted to be the one to give that to you.

“Where have your thoughts gone to?” Elain asked, watching him with a curious gaze.

“I met someone a few years back,” he admitted quietly while gauging her reaction.

“A she?”

“Yes.”

Elain fell silent but it wasn’t filled with tension as he had dreaded that it would be. Instead, she appeared thoughtful before her gaze fell upon him again, eyes full of questions. He didn’t know how much information that he would give her but he felt the sudden need to talk about you to someone. Anyone.

“Who is she?” she finally asked, setting down her gardening tool to give him her full attention.

“Y/N.” Your name falling past his lips had him ready to shoot into the skies and fly to you as fast as he could. “I met her in one of the camps before the war.”

“And you love her.” It wasn’t a question but a frown fell on her face. “Why haven’t you said anything to anyone?”

“She deserves better.” A half lie but a shiver ran up his spine as he forced himself to be vulnerable. “She has probably found it after all of these years.”

“You’re a great male,” Elain reassured, giving him a small smile. “My opinion may not matter much but I think that you should at least go talk to her.”

He took a few moments to ponder his choices and what he could possibly say to you to make things better. Elain watched him with that same reassuring smile so he took to the skies before he could think any more about it. His heart pounded hard in his chest during the entire flight, his nerves on edge for whatever could happen.

There were many wary glances thrown in his direction when he landed but he paid them no mind as he let his intuition guide him to you. His first stop was your home and unfortunately, you didn’t answer the door. As he turned back to head back towards the heart of the camp, he was truly beginning to wonder if you had married. The thought hurt but he deserved it if that was the case.

No sooner than he reached the first market stall, the faintest hint of your scent filled his senses. His eyes scanned the small crowd and quickly found you with a small child by your side, a hand gripped tightly around yours. As if you could sense him, your wide eyes met his and it was in that moment that you overtook all of his senses.

The Illyrians around him faded into nothing as that golden thread that now bound the two of you together shined brightly on his end. You gave him a small, shy smile but didn’t make a move to step closer. He let his gaze drift to the child as you picked him up and he noted everything about him quickly.

The boy had every feature of an Illyrian so to him, it meant that you had moved on. He didn’t deserve the explanation that he wanted but found himself hopeful whenever you walked towards him. Instead of directly addressing him, you simply nodded your head to your home. He followed closely behind while glaring at anyone who dared look at you too long or with disdain.

“We haven’t seen you or Cassian in a while,” you started as the three of you entered the home and sat the boy down. “Come to check on training?”

“I came to see you,” he admitted, shifting on his feet in his nervous state. “I didn’t- I didn’t handle it right.”

“Go play, sweetheart,” you muttered to the boy who did as told before you turned back to him. “I get it. I’m not-”

“You are everything,” he growled softly once he was close enough to cup your face. “I was foolish to let you go.”

“Az-”

“No.” His voice was thick again from his throat tightening, his nerves at an all time high as the bond sang inside of him. “I love you and I always have. But you deserve so much better.”

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered as tears lined your eyes again. “Nobody wants a female with a bastard son much less an Illyrian female with one.”

“He’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Any male would be foolish for letting you go. Just as I was.”

“You deserve better and-”

Azriel cut her off by crashing his lips to hers and his heart warmed at how you melted into him. He had come with the intention to win you back at all costs only to find out that you were his mate. It truly was a feeling like no other, an experience that could never be described without doing it justice. Little feet could be heard so you pulled back quickly and place a few feet of distance between the two of you.

“Mama.” The boy peered curiously around the corner, eyes moving between the both of you. “Who’s that?”

“Aeden, this is Azriel.” You smiled tenderly at the boy before looking at him. “Az, this is Aeden.”

“Hey!” Aeden exclaimed happily but turned back to his mother. “Eat and fly!”

“We can eat,” you laughed softly, stretching your hand out towards him. “We can look again for someone to help you fly.”

His heart was now a puddle on the floor. You had a son that more than likely didn’t know a thing about flying at his young age. Aeden’s Illyrian instincts were already screaming at him to learn how to fly and there was seemingly no one to teach him. His brain began nagging him but he wasn’t sure how to voice what he wanted to say.

“There’s no one that will help him fly?” he asked quietly when you joined him on the couch while the boy ate.

“No,” you answered with an equally quiet tone. “Nobody quite wants to be around us due to the circumstances. Not even my best friend’s husband.”

“Come to Velaris.” The words escaped him before he had time to realize what he was thinking. “You would both be loved and me, Cass, and Rhys can teach him how to fly. He’d love Nyx.”

You assessed him for a moment and placed a quick kiss against his lips before your son could see. Relief flooded through him when you nodded your head, leaving him feeling better than he had ever before in his life.

You stood in the foyer of the place that Azriel called home, contemplating everything that had led you here. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful and appreciated his offer but it was because of how out of place that you felt. A townhouse was somewhere that you would have never guessed that you would ever call home. You had barely had time to agree before the shadowsinger was reassuring you tenderly all while offering to help you pack up what was needed.

He had promised that there would be better belongings waiting for you and he hadn’t lied. You were surprised to learn that the High Lord and Lady themselves had gone out of their way to buy both you and your son some things that you needed. Something within you nagged you about the generous charity that it felt like but as you watched your son get settled, all of that went away without a trace.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” you asked later that night, for some reason dreading the answer.

“You have a room there.” He pointed to a guest room beside Aeden’s. “Or..”

“Or what?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you suggesting that I can sleep with you?”

“If- If you-” Azriel tripping over his words with a new wave of nervousness was somewhat amusing. “If you want.”

You gave him a small smile, touching his shoulder in reassurance before checking in on your son. Anticipation shot through you as you relaxed in the bath, contemplating your two options. There hadn’t been a moment of peace since you had given birth and hoped that the new environment would keep the three year old in his own bed that night. Once you were clean, you took a deep breath before knocking on the door and stepping past the threshold of his bedroom.

“I was wondering if your offer still stands,” you muttered quietly as heat rose in your cheeks.

“Please.”

There was something in his underlying plea that had your feet moving but you stopped at the edge of the bed. He watched you with patience and ended up pulling you down into the bed next to him. A laugh slipped past you as he pulled you so close into him that there wasn’t an inch separating the both of you.

“I don’t bite,” he murmured, burying his face into your hair.

“And if I wanted you to?” you countered with a coy smirk.

“That could be arranged.”

A devilish grin spread across his face before he had you on your back and it earned him a quiet laugh. You weren’t sure how long he made love to you and worshiped you in a way that no one ever had before. There were too many ‘I love yous’ passed between the both of you for you to keep up with but it had you feeling complete for the first time in your life.

You had no way to know what time it was or how long that you had slept but when you awoke, Aeden was in the bed and curled up next to Azriel. The sight had your heart fluttering in your chest so you simply laid back down and snuggled up to the pair.

A month felt as if it passed by in a blur. Azriel had waited a week before introducing you and your son to the family, seemingly impatient to teach Aeden how to fly. There were so many mornings that your son sat in your love’s lap while they read and you cooked breakfast. It was a sight that you knew that you would never get tired of seeing.

It wasn’t until you watched Azriel and Cassian making progress with Aeden after three months did you realize what true happiness was. Cassian was silly and had jokes when it came to helping the boy all while Azriel fretted like a mother hen. Feyre had mentioned once that it looked as if the male saw your son as his own and it was all that you see when you looked at him.

“He’s making really good progress.”

You glanced beside you to the High Lady as you both prepared the food for the night. A frown fell on your face as you watched Aeden fall out of the air again only to be caught by Azriel. Your son truly had made progress but your heart pounded in your chest each time you watched him make a mistake and start falling quickly towards the ground.

“I’m used to seeing different versions of the males’ training so this is definitely new for me,” you sighed. “I know Az won’t let him get hurt but still.”

“I felt the same with Nyx.”

A smile was shared between the both of you as Elain joined to help finish up the meal. Anticipation and nervousness filled you as it came time for the entire Inner Circle to come together. You had met all of them already, of course, but it felt like a new test with having them all together.

“Ready to eat!” Aedan exclaimed as he ran through the door, covered in dirt with a small scratch on his face.

“Did you let my son fall?” you asked as you looked between Azriel and Cassian.

“I turned my back for one second-”

“He’s fine,” Cassian drawled, laughing hard when his brother elbowed him in the ribs for interrupting him. “Even Feyre took a few tumbles and she’s just fine.”

“That’s different,” you huffed, glancing at your friend in hopes that she would defend you but the female simply smiled.

You shook your head in defeat and ushered your son to his seat between you and Azriel. Aedan adored the shadowsinger and looked up to him in a way that he had never experienced before. At least that was what he had told you during a late night conversation. Conversation flowed easily thanks to the family that made you feel welcomed and loved just as the spymaster had promised.

“Daddy!” Aeden exclaimed. “Want more!”

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes went wide when you realized that your son had just called your boyfriend his father. It was unprovoked and something that hadn’t been talked about by any of them. You glanced at Azriel and as your eyes met his, your body went tense and loose all at once at the overwhelming new feeling.

“I was going to tell you,” he whispered gently with caution on his face as the bond sang between you.

All that you could do was grin cheesily at him. At that point and time, it didn’t matter that you hadn’t been informed. All that mattered was that you had found the one that you were made for and on top of that, loved your son unconditionally as well. Rounds of congratulations sounded around the both of you but you couldn’t think straight as your eyes refused to move from the hazel ones two seats across from you.

You had never thought that your life would be this good and you would go through all of the hell and heartbreak again if it meant being where you were now.

Tag list:

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 4 months

Text

Exile.

a/n I cried so hard I had to write something so here we are. So,I guess I'm inviting you to come cry with me. 🫧

warning: just sadness

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The heaviest thing that weighed on Azriel's chest was that he couldn't find a turning point that changed it all. A breaking point that shattered a perfect picture. That started to pull apart the only thing he thought was unbreakable in this world.

You had been his everything ever since Rhys's mother had taken both Azriel and Cassian under her wing. He still remembered you peeking from behind your mother's dress. Big, purple eyes staring at him. As big and as scared as his. As skittish and nervous as him. You two had observed each other for weeks. Running away the moment your eyes met. Where Cassian and Rhys had been loud and obnoxious. You and Azriel had always been quiet and observant.

Then one evening, you showed up at Azriel's favorite corner of the cabin. One that he had claimed as his. Often sitting there all alone in the shadows. Legs up to his chest as he watched everyone else. And no one ever invaded that space. Until that evening, when you had rounded the corner with a bowl of freshly baked cookies and a glass of milk, you splashed some of it as you walked. Your tongue slightly poked out as you concentrated on your task. Then that bowl was on the floor, right in front of Azriel. Your chest heaved as you took short, labored breaths. For a moment, Azriel had been too stunned to even move because no one had ever brought him anything. If people came to him, it was to hurt him, not to be kind.

Like a beaten puppy, he slowly crawled out of the dark corner. His eyes never left you as you two stared each other down. His scared fingers reached for the cookies. The warmth of them settled into his palm. He felt his heart hammering against his ribcage, yet he still extended his left hand to you. Offering you one of the cookies to share. Your shaky finger followed Azriel's movements until you both stood there on the dim back side of the cabin.

Loving you after that came easy. When his mind spiraled, all Azriel needed was to see you. When he felt like he couldn't breathe, all he needed was to look at your purple eyes, which never failed to remind him of the pure irises that bloomed in late spring. He saw you everywhere and in everything. And you were his in so many ways. You had searched and put together every single broken piece of his soul. Rebuilding him into a man with your slow and gentle love.

The night when the carriage with you and your mother was attacked, Azriel thought that he was going to lay down and die alongside you. Rhys didn't ask for Azriel to come. But he didn't have to. The spymaster was driven by the force of need and fear that ran through him like venom. No matter how many interrogations and battles he had been in after that, nothing compared to the vicious slaughter he unleashed that night alongside Rhys and his father. Back then, it had been the first time Azriel had killed. But it didn't weigh on him like he thought it would. All he wanted was to bring them back so he could slaughter them once again.

You. It was you and nothing else for Azriel after that. No more whispers of secrets. No more sneaking around. No more late-night snacks on the rooftop, so no one would hear you. Azriel wanted to love you loudly. To know that there wasn't a part of you that didn't belong to him. That wasn't his. And as he spun you around in your white dress, with irises in your hair, as your laughter echoed and filled his chest, he was sure that he had found his forever.

But now here he was. On the same old balcony. On the longest night of the year, gripping the glass of whiskey in his hand. Watching as Lucien of all people spun you around. Pulling a laugh after a laugh from you. A sound Azriel hasn't heard for months. And that sound had always been his to claim; now all he got were scowls and angry head shakes.

"If looks could kill, brother..." Cassian tried to bump Azriel's shoulder gently, but the spymaster's eyes didn't leave you even for a second. "It's good to see her like that," Cassian sighed, throwing another dagger straight into Azriel's heart because the whole family had been aware that something wasn't right. After almost four hundred years together, you two had come crashing down the rocky shore. "You'll figure it out, Az. Don't beat yourself...", Cassian had started, but Azriel wasn't going to sit here like a fool. So, with a harsh slam of his glass, he pushed past Cassian without a second glance.

You're not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now?

You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

I think I've seen this film before...

Oh, how easy it had been to love him. To do it all for him. You had built your world around his broken heart. Carefully helping him stand on his shaky feet. It was the hidden parts of Azriel that you loved the most. Azriel, who put notes in the books you were reading, so that at a certain point, with you flipping through it, you would come across a folded piece of paper that read, "Never loved anyone as much as I love you. Your smile alone leaves me defenseless, my little terror."

You had kept them all. You still had them in a wooden box at the bottom of the closet. Every letter that Azriel had even written. Every note. Every dried flower. You bathed in that soft side of him that was only for you. With him rushing home to you so you could eat your dinner together and talk. Talk for hours until a comfortable silence would fall, and you two would find yourself in bed together, cuddling against one another as you read books in silence. Or Azriel read parts of his book to you.

A lifetime with him seemed too short at one point. Until it didn't. You had an inkling that something was changing the moment your brother brought Feyre home. That same night, you had woken up, drenched in sweat. Gasping like a fish frown on shore, with Azriel grasping at your hands. "It's fading," you breathed out, clawing at your chest till you drew blood with your nails. "My love," Azriel breathed, pulling your trembling body closer, "Breath with me." But all you did was shake your head and say, "It's flickering away." You grasped at him for dear life back then. And maybe you should have held on tighter. Maybe you should have sunk your nails into him. But your mother had raised you differently, and you weren't going to settle for scraps.

You'd like to believe that you knew that she was going to take Azriel away before even they did. Because Azriel had always been a savior. A fixer. An answer to the cries of the wrong soul, and oh, did she cry... Helpless little lamb in disguise. So when Azriel started smelling of her, you didn't even hear your heartbreak. You had tried bringing it up. Tried to get him to see, but the prettiest of flowers were often poisonous.

"All I'm asking is for an evening with my mate, with my husband." Your voice bounced off the walls as yet another fight rippled through the house that always felt cold now. "We had dinner last week," Azriel said blandly, buttoning up one of your favorite shirts. "And to think we had date nights every other day," you chuckled bitterly. "We are not kids anymore, Y/N," Azriel bit back, making you glare at him even more. "Oh, so love is now for children. Good to know that you had put an expiration date on this, Azriel", you said, tossing the kitchen towel you were holding to the side, "It would have been nice if you had informed me about it."

"See, this is why I hate being here." His voice roared back, making you take a step back. You fought many times. But you were always the firecracker. The terror. Azriel's composure never let him cross a line. But this. "You and your nagging drilling," he tapped against his temple angrily. "Not everything is about you. For once, give some thought to other people's needs."You had only blinked at him then. Watched him slowly dress up before he walked out of the door with a loud bang.

"A dance?", you blinked, nearly knocking your glass over as you flinched, but the person in front of you was quick to catch the delicate glass. "Apologies; I had no intention to startle you so much; I didn't think you were that deep in your thoughts." A familiar gaze warmed your soul. "Drop the formalities, Lucien," you chuckled softly. "I will if you will come to dance with me; it's a crime to sit through Starfall," Lucien once again extended his hand to you, and with a light shake of your head, you let him pull you up.

The music was rather lively, one you would come across at the city fair during a festival. But Rhys had always liked his tunes wild when he was happy. And your brother was more than happy. "Eris is convinced that I have two left feet," Lucien muttered as his arm wrapped around your waist, "So if this ends in distress, please keep my shame with you." His words made the corners of your lips tug upward as you chuckled lightly. "I would never cause you such disgrace, emissary," Lucien simply smiled at you before twirling you around.

At first, it was a bitter dig to seek out Lucien. A venomous desire to sting Azriel with his poison. You had come back so proud that night, knowing that after a day of horse reading with Lucien, his smell would have been all over you. And it was. And Azriel had stalled the moment he stepped through the door. His eyes grew dark before he angrily undid his cloak, tossing it to the side.

"What was Lucien doing here?", his voice was low and bitter, but all it did was make you smile. "Who said he was here?", you muttered, continuing to flip through your book. You didn't need to see him to know that he was scowling at you. "Why is his scent all over you, Y/N?" You knew now that it was a desperate attempt to grasp the last bits of his love and attention for you and what you were doing was a pathetic desire to catch one more glimpse of his care. "I took your advice. Listened to others' needs", you said with a smirk. Azriel's hands were on you in an instant. Grasping your forearms as he pulled you up, your book clattered to the floor. "What fucking games are you playing?", Azriel said through gritted teeth as you pushed back against his chest, only to make his grip tighter. "You hypocritical bastard. So you can whore yourself out, and I'm just supposed to watch you!" You barked out, the magic you shared with your brother sizzling beneath your skin, roaring to explode around you if needed. "I'm helping her get settled," Azriel growled, letting go of your arms once the darkness around you two grew thicker. "On your dick is where you're settling her," you snarled. You wanted. Waited. For him to deny it. To explode with shouts about your accusations. But he simply shook his head before winnowing away. Oh, how you had ragged that night. Smashing every vase. Every frame that you could reach. Cursing him in all the languages you knew before collapsing to your knees in soul-ranching sobs.

"I've lost you once more," Lucien's soft voice brought you back. You had lost track of the time you two had been swaying. "I'm starting to believe that I'm an awful company," he chuckled under his breath. "No, no, Lucien, you couldn't be further away from that," you reassured him, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder. "Does this have something to do with your husband plotting my death the whole night?", your head instantly turned to Azriel. As if in second nature. You didn't even need to think about it. You always found him in the crowd. And sure enough, his deathly glare was pinned on you two.

It twisted your guts because there had been a time when that look would have sent you to your knees. To know that he was ready to fight for you. Ready to tear down cities. To get his knuckles bloody for you. Now it just left a bitter taste in your mouth. And it felt like a mockery at best. He had lost his claim to you months ago. "I'm sorry," you muttered, ready to apologize on Azriel's behalf, but suddenly your voice died down. Because all of these weeks it had been you, patching up that broken image of you two. Glossing over the flaws so that your family will not see anything. So that no one would need to worry. So that no one would see just how broken you had been.

A loud bang of glass hitting the table was the last straw for you. You flinched as your eyes shut. Angry tears fell on Lucien's deep green tunic. But you refused to let anyone else see you like this. "Y/n," Lucien muttered, "If this is because of my doing," but you quickly shook your head. Pleading eyes looked up at him, and for the first time, the shock on Lucien's face was enough to make a quiet sob escape past your lips. As the mask you had been wearing for weeks finally slipped. "Please," you breathed, "Help me; I can't do this anymore." Lucien's hand quickly cupped the back of your head as he pressed your trembling frame closer to his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly beneath your ear. "I've got you. It'll be okay", he muttered quietly, looking around for anyone who had spotted the scene that had unfolded. "Come on," Lucien muttered after a moment, "Give me your hand."

It was way past the end of Starfall when Azriel walked through the front door. He was exhausted. That type of exhaustioned that seeped into your bones. That made your body ache. That made that permanent feeling of coldness linger deep within. One you couldn't chase away, no matter what. Undoing a couple of the buttons on his black shirt, Azriel stepped deeper into the house. Into a too quiet of a house.

"Y/n," Azriel's voice echoed through the living room. He knew it was way too late to be shouting like that, but this unsettling dread pulled at his chest. "Y/n," he called out once more, hoping to hear you angrily striding to yell back at him, but he heard nothing. Not a single rustle of the sheets. Not the sound of your feet tapping against the wooden floor.

Azriel was about to angrily march up the stairs himself. To beg for you to scream at him if he had to because this silence that he sat in for hours in the house of wind had him running in loopholes that were near to suffering him. But his eyes fell on something glistening on the living room table. The only thing still shining in this dim place. The spymaster took a couple of quick steps toward it. A sick and sour feeling spread through his stomach. Almost sending him backward. There was no way. There absolutely could not be a way. Azriel's hand reached for a light blue diamond ring that had been a part of his heart for so long. But there was no way because you had it on your finger tonight. He had seen it tonight. And if you weren't here, and if the ring was. Azriel swallowed thickly, cold sweat coating his hands and face. You wouldn't have just taken it off here and forgotten it, unless...

I'm not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

You were my crown, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

I think I've seen this film before

So I'm leaving out the side door...

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x oc #lucien imagine #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra imagine #lucien vanserra

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b00kdiary · 3 months

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Stay With Me | Rhysand (II)

Rhysand x Plus size reader

Y/N gets hurt during a mission- and Rhysand is more than willing to be the one to take care of her.

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, blood and gore, and smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

PART ONE

PART THREE

"Cassian, for Cauldron's sake," I scowl, my hands weakly slapping against his broad, solid chest for the fifth time. "Will you put me down? I can walk-"

"Y/N, you have a dagger embedded to the hilt in your fucking thigh," Cassian grimaced, cocking his head down at me, his hazel eyes flaring as he glances down at my wounded leg, his strong arms holding me to his chest so carefully. "You won't be able to stand, never mind walk."

I grumble irate, looking away and dropping my hands back onto my lap with a pout. I hear Azriel chuckle softly, his tall figure following closely behind us as Cassian carries me through the House of Wind.

"Where- where's Rhys?" I ask, my head peeking over Cassian's shoulder, trying to see through the gaps in his powerful wings- looking for those stary eyes and a breathtaking smile. I wince when a sharp pain shoots up my leg, even if my mind is preoccupied with the fact Rhys is nowhere to be found.

"Now you want to know about Rhys," Cassian mutters under his breath and the passive-aggressive tone catches me off guard. I lift my eyes to his hard face, but he doesn't meet my gaze, his jaw locked and eyes staring straight ahead.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand, my eyes narrowing but Cassian doesn't reply, he doesn't even react. Instead, he stalks into the lounge, his grip tightening around my body as the fire blazes to life.

"Rhys is dealing with the remaining Hybern soldiers," Azriel clears his throat, coming to stand beside us, his eyes flickering over Cassian's face contemplatively. "He said he would be back as soon as he was done."

Dealing with Hybern, he didn't need to explain what that meant.

"Madja's on her way now," Cassian states and he doesn't give me a second to speak before he marches over to the plush, large green sofa situated directly in front of the fireplace, his movements stiff as he lays me flat against the cushions.

"Cassian, wait-" I frown, groaning as I grab on his arm as it slips out from under me, stopping him from pulling away. "What's wrong with you? You're being-"

"An asshole," He finishes, and upon seeing the hurt in my eyes and then the wound steadily leaking blood over the sofa, he sighs, his handsome face melting into a dejected frown. "I'm acting like an absolute asshole, I know I'm- I'm sorry."

"It's alright, I'm just surprised," I swallow, and relief fills me when his eyes soften, when the Cassian I know and love seems to reappear as he settles on his knees beside me, his large hands cupping mine gently. "I've never been on the receiving end of your anger, Cass."

"I'm not angry, just frustrated," He admits and when I raise a sharp brow at him, he shrugs, "You've been avoiding Rhysand for weeks, Y/N and I don't like seeing the two of you so at odds."

My eyes widen in surprise at his words, and I feel the scrutinising stares of Cassian and Azriel before me, their eyes tracing over every reaction and breath I make.

"I haven't been avoiding him," I swallow, gritting my teeth as Azriel slides a pillow under my right thigh, elevating the injured leg, "I've been busy-"

"Bullshit," Cassian scoffs, and I narrow my eyes at him when his grip on my hand tightens forcing my gaze to his again, "You've been avoiding him and we all know it, Rhys most of all."

"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about," I breathe roughly, and both the males before me share a disbelieving glance between them, one that makes me scowl. "Seriously, I don't- Madja, you're here!"

Relief, pure relief at the sight of the dark-skinned female, her spindrift hair in disarray and her brown eyes narrowing in disapproval at the dagger's hilt poking out of my thigh as she strode into the lounge.

"Thank you to whoever elevated her leg, you've made this easier for us both," Madja greets and Azriel nods unconsciously at her praise. "Let's see what the damage is."

Cassian's knowing eyes don't relent upon me but as Madja crouches on the floor, he rises, sighing as he lets go of my hand, letting it fall between us. I gnaw on my lip at the silence, but I manage a strained smile at the healer before me.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Madja," I focus on my breathing as her delicate hands press around the entry point of my injury, her fingertips turning stark red immediately.

"You have a hunting dagger in your thigh, Y/N," Madja raises a pointed brow at me, and when I whimper, my jaw locking tight at the tender pain, her face melts into a frown. "I'm going to have to pull this out inch by inch and thread the skin together as I go."

"I hate Hybern soldiers," I mutter dismally, my head lolling back against the pillow and my eyes meeting the worn ceiling, counting the cracks one by one to calm the panic clawing at me. "Do it, do whatever you need to Madja."

I feel their eyes on me, all of them, but when I curl both my hands into steeled fists when I grit my teeth and clamp my eyes shut, I feel Madja sigh- and her hands come to that dagger.

I wish Rhysand was here.

That's the first thought I have, I'm not sure why. I picture his violet gaze and lazy smile and the sound of his laugh, warm and wonderful and somehow, I feel better.

Though it doesn't last long.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!"

A swarm of dark, furious power hits me, hits everyone in the room at the same time that violent, death-incarnate voice bellows out the words. I startle, my body jolting and my eyes snapping back open and moving to the entryway.

Rhysand- covered in blood.

Staining his hands and arms and torso and chest, as if he had ripped apart the males with his bare hands. Splattered across his neck and jaw and cheeks, as if he had been ferocious and merciless with his assault.

And the smell, it wasn't one soldier or two, no, it was dozens and dozens of them. All their scents, all their blood and gore and their fear spread over Rhysand like a second skin and all I could think was that he hadn't stopped.

He hadn't spoken or breathed or thought- he had just killed and killed and killed.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Y/N?!" Rhysand demanded again, his eyes as dark as midnight, his voice as terrifying as I had ever heard it as he glared at me, his chest rising and falling so fast.

"Rhys-" Cassian warns from behind me, but Rhysand can't hear him, I don't think he can hear anything over the roaring anger in his head. I see it in the way he marches forward, see it in every hard and brutal inch of his muscled and lean form the closer he gets.

"You got in the way, that soldier was coming for me-" He seethed, stopping at the back of the sofa, and my eyes blinked heavily as he clamped down two large, ringed hands onto the material, nails cutting into the material to calm his fury. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I didn't feel like dealing with your whining when he stabbed you," I grit out, my voice as cold as ice, as cold as Rhysand's as I glared up at him, the anger distracting me from the burning erupting through my leg. "Forgive me for saving you, Rhysand, next time-"

"Next time?" He laughs, a cruel, awful sound and I fought through the fatigue, forcing myself to watch his midnight eyes narrow, to see his lip curl back to reveal his sharp canines as he towered above me. "If you think you're joining us on another mission again darling, then you're not as smart as you like to think you are."

"Rhys now really isn't the time-" Azriel stepped forward, his shadows dancing wildly over his shoulders, the tension and raging emotion in the room making them more chaotic. Rhysand doesn't look at Azriel, he doesn't look at anyone but at me- intense, consuming, powerful.

And I can't look away from him.

"Oh, bite me Rhysand," I snarl, my own canines flashing as I tilt my head up to his, my hair sticking to the sweat on my forehead, my heart hammering in my chest, and my whole body sore from the aftermath of the fight- but still I snarl at him.

"If the two of you are done quarrelling," Madja sighs, drawing us away from our heated argument and it's her words that remind me why we're here- reminds me of the agonising, throbbing pain now lancing through my leg. "I need quiet and calm so I can focus please."

"I'm sorry that you're being burdened on your day off with this, Madja," Rhysand breathes, and despite his voice quietening, every word was sharp and low, full of contempt. I grit my teeth painfully as Madja inches the dagger out of my thigh, so fucking slowly.

"Rhysand," I hiss, the cut of the razor-fine blade as it's eased out, accompanied by the burning light of Madja's magic making bile rise in my throat, "Shut up."

She drags it up another inch and I bite down on my cheek, metal and bitterness filling my mouth, coating my tongue, invading my senses, but it doesn't distract me from the pain.

"Now who's whining?" Rhysand taunted darkly, and I felt the feel of his shadows and starlight dancing around me, over me, laden with anger and frustration. I couldn't open my eyes, couldn't look at him, or speak to him.

Not as Madja dragged out the blade another inch.

"Rhysand-" I warned, my throat as rough as glass now, my hands clenching at either side, so hard my nails cut into my palms, carving crescent moons.

There was a lot of blood, gallons of it, and Madja's hands pressed down firmer, her strength astounding as she tried to staunch the blood flow, working her magic over my severed skin.

"C'mon darling," Rhysand purred, and I blinked my heavy eyelids open to see his violet gaze, dark and cruel and mocking, the beast in him rearing its head as he watched me. My eyes were like steel, and I let every atom of loathing I had for him at this moment show.

It was almost menacing, the look in his eyes, the blood covering his skin, the arrogance in his words.

"Fuck you-"

The words die on my tongue, they turn to ash in my lungs and all my anger vanishes, replaced by one thing- unbelievable pain. Madja pulls the blade free, and I feel it like a shock current through my entire being, so strong I gasp out desperately.

And Rhysand's whole demeanour flips, like a switch.

The anger? Gone. The frustration? Gone. The shadows and violence that had sullied his eyes? Gone.

All gone- replaced by something... scared? Yes, he was scared. He heard that desperate sound rip from my lips, smelt the blood oozing from me in waves, saw my face tighten with unfathomable pain and he was scared.

I saw it in the way his face dropped, paled, that arrogant smile vanishing instantly, a deep frown carving in its place. A worry so strong it creased his brow, sharpened his handsome face, and made his broad form turn unnaturally still.

"Rhys," I choke out his name, and it's that one word on my lips, that one name, his name, that has him moving in an instant. One second, he's towering over me from behind the sofa's back and then the next, he's knelt by my side, his face inches from mine.

"Shit, Y/N," Rhysand sighed, and I saw the hurt in his eyes as he flickered his gaze over me, tracing over every inch of my face, seeing my visceral reaction to everything Madja was doing. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"That's better," I laugh hoarsely, my eyes welling with heavy tears as I glance at Rhys, trying to focus on the night-blooming jasmine and ocean breeze scent of his skin, under all the grime and blood. "I hate when you use your High Lord's voice on me."

"Me too, darling," He manages a strained smile and I sigh when his hand comes to my face, brushing away my damp hair before moving to cup my cheek, his thumb smoothing over the tears slowly leaking.

"Nearly done," Madja mutters and Rhys glances to the side, his nose flaring at the sight of my blood soaking the cushions, his eyes predatory as he sees Madja's magic close the wound bit by bit. "There was some kind of poison coating the blade, it's resisting my magic, that's why it's taking so long."

"And why it's hurting so much?" I muse, blinking away my tears as I look at the healer, and her grim nod tells me all I need to know. "I really fucking hate Hybern soldiers."

Rhysand laughed, I felt the brush of his warm breath, minty with a hint of bourbon infiltrate my senses and when my eyes met his again, I let myself sink into the stars and constellations, let myself bathe in the feel of him.

"This is the longest you've looked me in the eyes in weeks," Rhysand mutters, and despite the teasing in his words, his eyes held a different story- a sadder one.

"Almost forgot how beautiful you were." He whispered through my mind, and I heard the yearning in every single word as it echoed through me.

"Always such a flirt," I say back, and the room is near-silent as we stare at each other, Rhysand's lip tilting at the corner as he watches me, "I'm sorry, Rhys-"

"Don't" His lips purse, his hand cupping my cheek firmer, forcing my eyes to him, to see the sincerity on his face, "Don't worry about that now."

I managed a small nod, smiling softly at him but the conversation, the conflict hung heavy in the air between us still. I had been avoiding him, like the plague, since that night in the cabin, since we did what we did.

"The poison's slowing down the healing process, I've done what I can for now," Madja says, but her voice sounds further away and it's only then I realise my eyes are fluttering closed, that my body is starting to melt into oblivion. "She needs rest."

I vaguely hear the sound of their low voices as they speak, but as the darkness starts to creep over me, all I can feel is Rhysand's thumb brushing my cheek, his touch unbearably soft and endearing, as if lulling me to sleep.

"Stay with me, Rhys."

A star-flecked hand runs across the expanse of my mind, adoringly, and I feel the distinct feel of his lips at my temple, lingering and firm, pressing a sweet kiss there before pulling away.

"Always, darling."

***

I sense him before I even open my eyes.

He’s erected a shield around me, I feel it ripple in response to every rise and fall of breath in my lungs, a shield of shadows and starlight, a shield of his very essence made to protect me while I slept.

I think it might have been healing me too- fighting whatever vile magic Hybern coated that dagger with, working to ease the pain that had been a forever presence burning through my thigh.

“You’re awake,” Rhysand’s voice greets me as I blink my eyes open, the room dim with Fae light and I smile faintly as the shield he made disappears, flickering out like stars around me. “How do you feel?”

A dull ache throbs through my head as I turn to the side, to where Rhysand sits on the edge of his chair- broad shoulders tense, arms braced on his powerful thighs and his beautiful face hard with worry.

Not a splatter of blood remained on him. Clean, regal, the Rhysand I knew.

“I’m-“ My voice splinters, dehydration making the air cut like glass through my lungs and as I screw my eyes shut, body wrecking with coughs, Rhysand’s immediately at my side. I winced as his large hand slipped under me, fingers curling around my waist to sit me up.

“Here, darling, drink,” His voice shook, but the command was still there, and I could do nothing but brace my weak hands against his corded chest, lips parting when he pressed a water bottle to my mouth, hands agonisingly soft as I slowly sipped from it.

A satisfied moan slipped from me as the cold water ran down my throat, and I felt Rhysand’s hand tighten around my body, fingers digging possessively into my flesh at the soft sound. I sighed as he pulled the bottle away, my weak body slumping back against the pillows behind me.

“Thank you,” I whispered and when my head lifted, meeting his violet gaze, my face softened at the concern in his face, the pain, hating every second of hurt I was in. “I’m alright, Rhys, just a bit weak, but I’m going to be alright.”

His throat bobs roughly and there’s a tense silence that seems to stretch on as he bows his head, his lean form sat on the edge of the bed beside me, his hands resting on either side of my hips- as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go, as if he needed to touch me to know I was really here.

I gnaw on my lip at the hurt twisting his lovely face, nothing of the arrogant and smirking High Lord I knew present. No, not at his darkening gaze stayed locked on my bandaged thigh, blood staining the fabric, nothing but the oversized linen shirt I wore covering me.

“I should have been paying attention,” He breathes, a ragged, awful sound and my eyes widen at the way his shoulder curves inwards as if he was physically carrying the burden of his guilt. “I should have torn that bastard to pieces the second I saw him near you.”

“Don’t Rhys, don’t do that, don’t blame yourself,” I plead sharply, my hand coming to his face, cupping his strong jaw, and lifting those starry eyes to me- hating that nothing shined in them, nothing but unshed tears. “I got in the way knowing what would happen, because I would rather it be me than you.”

“I should have protected you-“ He growls, teeth flashing, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Don’t be an overprotective asshole, Rhys, I’m as much of a warrior as you are,” I raise a brow and for a second amusement danced in his eyes, tilts his lip just barely. I soothe my thumb across his jaw, smiling softly, “We protect each other, that’s what we do.”

He chuckles, and fuck, if the sound doesn’t make something warm and full fill my heart.

“I love it when you get all angry with me, darling,” Rhysand pressed his cheek into my palm, a roguish grin stretching across his face and something darkened his gaze, something molten as he stared at me, “It’s very attractive.”

“Always such a flirt,” I tease, but the breath gets tighter in my throat as Rhysand inches closer to me, as if some magnet drew us together, an unstoppable force that made it so hard for the two of us to look away.

My tongue darts out, wetting my bottom lip and Rhysand’s eyes drop to my mouth, and he’s getting closer, so closer that I feel every atom in me tense in anticipation of his lips meeting mine.

“Shit-“

I jump, Rhysand sucking in a sharp breath, the both of us so surprised that we spring apart- eyes flashing to the medical basket that appeared on the bed beside us with a soft thud.

“It seems Madja is reminding me that you need to change your bandages,” Rhys grits out through clenched teeth, and I would laugh at the ire on his face as he grabs the basket- if I weren’t blushing so hard, I could feel my skin burning.

I draw my hands to my lap, fiddling aimlessly with my fingers as Rhysand pulls out the vials and binds his long, nimble fingers, gracefully laying out the objects on the bed beside him, handsome face pursed with concentration as looked over the items one by one.

I stayed silent as he shifted on the bed, tugging back the comforter from my body, and I swallowed down the lump in my throat as his eyes slid down my form, calloused hands moving so surely as stretched my leg over his lap, fingers tugging at my bloodied bandage.

“I can do that, you know,” I mutter, my back tensing at the feel of his fingers moving across the flesh of my thigh, his eyes unwavering on my bare leg as he unwrapped the bind. “You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” He said simply, eyes glancing up at me through dark lashes and I saw the gleam, knowing every touch, every caress made something blaze to life in me- seemed to enjoy having that kind of power.

“Besides, it’s my turn to take care of you now,” He muttered roughly, and his tone, the grumble that purred through his chest, told me that changing my bandages wasn’t all he meant. “Just relax for me, yeah?”

He cocks his head, waiting for me to answer- and all I can do is nod, sinking back into the pillows.

There’s a long silence as Rhysand discards the bloodied bandage on the floor beside us, and I winced at the jagged scar that traced the inner part of my thigh- red and angry, small unhealed sections of skin still leaking blood, the poison actively fighting Madja’s healing.

“I should have made his suffering last longer,” Rhys panted, such terrifying, cold violence in his voice, in his eyes as he stared at that wound, and the room seemed to vibrate with the strength of his raging power. “I should have torn him limb by fucking limb for doing this to you.”

“You made him regret it in the end,” I said gently, remembering that Hybern soldier before me one second and then ash on the wind the next. Rhys curled his fingers around my other thigh, fingers teasing the skin, so close to where I wanted him. “We’re here, he’s not.”

“Right as always, darling,” His throat works and he watches, I watch, as his hand traces up my thigh, over my cellulite and stretch marks and as he curves his way between my legs, I keen, thighs inching apart for him.

I gnaw on my lip in anticipation as his thumb swoops back and forth, callouses tickling my inner thigh, so close to my core I can feel him brushing my underwear. My stomach coils with need and I know Rhys can smell my arousal, thick and desperate and strong in the air.

His nose flares, and I feel his power rumbling from him as if the mere smell of me was enough to have him trembling.

Another brush of his thumb, so close yet so far and my back bows, my core clenching around nothing, the pain in my leg gone now, overwhelmed by the wetness that seems to grow and grow between my thighs.

“Rhys,” I gasped, almost whining as my chest rose and fell like tidal waves, and he glanced at me with eyes like melted chocolate and raised one dark brow in a challenge, “Stop being such a tease.”

“Or what?” He crooned mockingly, I gasped when his thumb inched forward, barely grazing over the front of my damp panties, the pressure so hollow that it was there and gone in seconds. “You’ll find someone else to take care of you?”

I tugged my shirt higher up my stomach, satisfaction filling me when Rhysand’s smirk fell, and like a hunter with prey his eyes narrowed down on my exposed underwear, the black lace barely covering my pulsing cunt.

“So? Should I call Cassian in?” I managed to grit out, enough arrogance in my tone to hide the lust clouding my voice and Rhysand went still, “Or are you going to- oh-“

It was stupid, to taunt the High Lord of the Night Court so brazenly- but I was so fucking glad that I had.

Because one second his thumb was taunting the edge of my underwear and then the next, he had hooked it under the material- and ripped it off.

“This what you want, huh?” Rhysand muses hotly, fingers slipping past my wet folds almost angrily, and I moaned as his callouses rubbed harshly at my clit. “Goading me into touching your cunt, using another male to piss me off?”

“Rhys,” I whimpered, back arching as he circled the pad of his thumb in brash circles, pressing down hard enough that I could feel every single callous, centuries of battle training, deliciously scraping me. “Don’t stop-“

Rhys groaned low in his throat, and I could feel his attention washing over me like waves, pure male satisfaction on his face when he turned his hand, stuffing two fingers into me without warning.

“Fuck, fuck, Rhys-“

“You should see how tight you’re wrapped around me right now, darling,” He growled low, and I could feel my walls suffocating his fingers as he fucked them in and out of me, not even my slopping wetness enough to ease how I clamped around him. “You think you can take another?”

Another finger prods at my entrance and all I can do is lock my ankle around Rhysand’s back, sinking myself further down his fingers as a third digit joins- and the burn, it hurts so fucking good.

Rhys leans forward and my shaking hand finds purchase on his shoulder, curling around the flexing muscles, feeling every stroke of his fingers in and out, getting faster and harder now. I can’t stop the sounds that tear from me, my eyes clamping shut as his fingers stretch me, brushing my walls in a way that makes it impossible to breathe.

“Rhys, I’m close, so close-“ I gasp, and that confession seems to be like a personal challenge for Rhys, edging him on as he curls those fingers deep inside of me, toying his thumb against my clit with every rough jolt.

“Open your eyes, Y/N,” Rhys commanded, voice like midnight- his High Lord's voice and I had no choice but to rip my eyes open, to meet his burning, wild gaze, loving and hating the pleased grin he gave me. “Wanna watch your pretty eyes roll while you come around my fingers.”

I was shaking now, sweat coating my forehead and it took everything in me to not flutter my eyes closed, took everything in me to stare into his violet gaze and let his hand fuck brutally inside me- let him watch me.

He loved watching me, I saw it in his eyes, in his smile, felt it in how easily he clued onto how my body reacted- knowing how hard to press his thumb against my clit to make my back arch, knowing what angle to hook his fingers inside me to make me cry his name.

And as he shoved his thick fingers in until his knuckles inside me and hooked them up, he got his wish, got to see as that chord within me splintered to pieces and my eyes rolled back as I came.

“Rhys I’m-“ I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body writhing against his hand, trying to pull away as he still moved those fingers inside me, but he clamped down another hand on my stomach, fingers holding my flesh possessively to keep me in place.

“C’mon darling,” Rhysand cooed, his voice almost cruel, almost patronising as he fucked me through my orgasm, my walls clenching around his fingers again and again, my orgasm spreading through my thighs and stomach and hips like glass. “I’ve got you, your High Lord’s right here.”

I whimpered at the humour in his dark tone, my legs closing around Rhysand’s hand- a mixture of overstimulation from his touch and the filthy words he poured like honey into my ear.

“Too much, too much I can’t-“

He chuckled, like the prick that he is, but mercifully, his fingers stopped, hand halting inside me and I instantly sagged with relief.

I could feel Rhysand’s power thrumming around us, frantic and powerful as if blazing brighter at my climax, at seeing me fall apart. I winced as he slipped his fingers out from me, and he seemed to melt back into being unbearably sweet as he languished his hand along my thigh, waiting for me to catch my breath.

I blinked my eyes open, fighting the exhaustion that ran through me, rooted deep inside me and smiled at the sea of violet and stars that stared back at me.

“I don’t think that was the kind of care Madja meant, Rhys,” I breathe, my voice trembling as tendrils of my climax faded away and the grin that stretched across his face, it was fucking beautiful.

“Well technically I did change your bandage,” He cocked his head, eyes gleaming and only then did I notice the sheet of stars and moonlight wrapped around my thighs, a blanket of Rhysand’s power, iridescent as the night sky outside over my wound- protecting and healing.

“Thank you,” I giggled quietly, pleasantly amazed and the air in the room felt so light as our gazes met, his hand still caressing sweetly against my thigh. He must sense the words on the tip of my tongue because he inches closer, face bright with understanding.

“Rhys, what we-“

“Y/N!”

A tall figure bursts through my room door and I only see flashes of long blonde hair and two sets of wings before Rhysand shifts in front of me, his large body shielding my bareness and his face is beyond frustrated as he tugs down my top, until the material is scraping my mid-thigh.

“Are you okay?” Mor comes rushing in, oblivious to what she just walked in on, and I cringe as Rhysand purses his lips and shuffles back to give the female space as she practically launches at my side. “I heard what happened-“

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I chuckle uncomfortably, seeing the worry in her brown eyes and I smile when she wraps her arms around me, hugging me suffocatingly tight. “Mor, honestly I’m fine.”

“Rhysand’s been taking care of her,” Azriel muses quietly and I shoot him a scathing glare over Mor’s shoulder, seeing his lip tilt at the corner. Rhys rolls his eyes, but I can see the satisfaction in his eyes, that they knew.

Knew that he was the one that made me feel as good as I did.

And something akin to wildfire burns through my blood when I slide my gaze down his body, to the hard, long imprint of his cock straining against his slacks. I swallow at the sight; my mouth watering and I feel a brush of claws tease against my mind.

As if to say- later.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Mor sighed, before plopping down on the chair by my bed. Rhysand sighed- a truly irate and defeated sound like he couldn’t believe our family had just walked in on us like he was getting very tired of all the interruptions. “When Cassian called me, I came as soon as I could.”

“Thank you, Mor,” I smile, glancing at her to my side and my body tingles when Rhys pulls the comforter over my body, fingers brushing my breasts as he does so.

I don’t miss the smile he tries to hide.

“Speaking of me,” Cassian steps forward, an absolutely delighted grin stretching his face, eyes flashing knowingly between me and Rhys and my brows furrow when Rhysand’s face darkens like he wants to lunge at the male.

“Did I hear Y/N mention my name earlier?”

_______________________________

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part 3??

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azsazz · 4 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 6)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: Not edited lol

Word Count: 2,891

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Masterlist]

Notes: Of course the first fic post of 2024 has to be MM 💙

_________________________________________

“So, you just think you’re free to do so as you please, where you please?” Your grating voice startles Azriel from the work he’s doing. The oil drain plug slips from his fingers as he winces, falling into the pan below.

His bike had needed some servicing, nothing he wasn’t able to take care of himself, though Cassian was supposed to meet up with him after the only class he had today and he hasn’t shown yet. His roommate was pretty handy, had to be, with how old and how often his rustic Bronco is. He’d offered to help Az, or at least sit outside and pester him, whatever he was feeling.

Apparently, he wasn’t feeling much like showing up at all, which was fine because Azriel knew exactly what needed to be done and enjoyed listening to the sounds of the world while he worked; birds chirping as they chased each other from tree to tree, other students happily talking as they walk down the block, and the occasional car driving up the street. It’s easy to focus on something like this, and he’s feeling a lot looser than he has been as of late, though he doesn’t expect that to last very long.

He wishes Cassian were here to be a buffer right now.

What Azriel doesn’t understand is what you’re doing here. Obviously, he knows very well that you live here, but after the harsh few meetings the two of you have shared, he’s not entirely sure why you’re approaching him, of all people.

Grimacing, he slips his glove-covered hand into the dark oil pan, feeling through the thick, slick liquid for the plug. He needs it, and he hadn’t really wanted to get this dirty, but at least he has boxes and boxes of gloves to use at his disposal.

He eyes you, squinting from the sun haloing around your head. You look just as you had the day you moved in—a frown tugging the corners of your mouth down, pretty eyes glaring down instead of up at him through your lashes. Your arms are crossed over your chest too, and even though it’s been a few days since he’s last seen you, he isn’t surprised about the scowl you wear.

It hadn’t been enough to avoid you, it seemed. You were going to run into each other no matter what. But he’d avoided you this long, even kept his music down to a lower volume. Okay, so, one click lower hadn’t quite made you back off of him, still pounding on the walls late at night, but he’s been trying to be nicer about it, actually listening to those knocks, lowering his music or stuffing his earbuds into his ears.

Seems like it hasn’t made you any happier, his trying.

“Am I disturbing your afternoon, all the way out here, princess?” He asks, tacking on the little nickname he knows you hate because it will get under your smooth skin.

Your foot taps with your annoyance, rhythmically. It kind of sounds like the bass line to one of his favorite songs. He realizes now that you’re not wearing any shoes. His brows furrow and his eyes slide back to yours, watching your lips purse. He can’t hide the smirk spreading across his mouth so he turns his head back to his work, watching the oil filling the pan.

“I told you not to call me that,” you growl, and he glances up, enjoying the way your nose scrunches up. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be doing this in the middle of the parking lot.”

“That’s funny,” he snipes, because why won’t you just leave him alone? “I didn’t ask you.”

Your cheeks go red. Azriel brushes it off, grabbing a few paper towels from the roll he’s brought out and wiping the oil plug clean. He’s meticulous with it, making sure all of the threads are clean before he sets it aside to wipe his gloves off. He grabs the new filter and removes the packaging, awaiting your snarky response.

You sigh, sitting down on the curb. “Look, I locked myself out and my phone is inside. Can you maybe text Cassian and have him let Feyre know the situation? He has her number.”

He cuts you a glance before his hazel eyes flicker away. Since when did Cassian have either of your numbers? Since when did he talk to you?

“He should be here in a little while,” Azriel answers, removing the old filter. He tosses it in the pan with the used oil and wipes his gloves again, cleaning them before he reaches for the new filter to replace. It slides in easily, and he caps the drain. “You can ask him then.”

You huff like it’s the most inconvenient answer in the world, but he doesn’t want to get oil on his phone, and he doesn’t want to take his gloves off right now. Not ever, but certainly not in front of you of all people. “Please, can you not be a prick right now? I’d rather let her know as soon as possible so I don’t have to be around you.”

Not exactly the response he was thinking you’d give, but it sparks his irritation anyway.

“I’m not being a prick. I’m working on something and you’re interrupting me because you’ve made the mistake of locking yourself out. Maybe you should take your phone the next time you go to the office to complain.”

Your face flushes and your mouth drops open in a gape.

Yeah, he heard all about that.

Azriel glares, unscrewing the fresh bottle of oil with a little more force than is necessary. But he’s annoyed now and he just wants to finish this so he can go on a nice long drive, far away from you.

You swallow harshly. “You’re right, I’m so—”

“Now here’s a sight I never thought I’d see,” Cassian’s voice echoes around the parking lot, startling the both of you. Azriel wills the oil into the hole faster, because he can’t bear seeing Cassian being all buddy-buddy with you. “What are you doing out here with no shoes on?”

Azriel glances at you from the corner of his eye. Your gaze flickers away as soon as his eyes land on you, turning your attention to Cassian, but you look a little defeated, shoulders curled in on yourself as if trying to hide from him.

“I uh, got locked out of my apartment and my phone is inside. I was just asking Azriel if I could borrow his phone to text you, but here you are.”

Azriel notes the way that his name rolls off of your tongue.

“Here I am, saving damsels all day long,” Cassian jokes, and you laugh.

The bottle in his hand slips, oil dripping down the paint of his bike as Azriel quickly fixes the spout back into place.

Neither you nor Cassian seem to notice, thankfully.

“Still need help, Az?” His roommate asks, but Azriel shakes his head.

“All good, man.”

“Great. (Y/N), why don’t you come on inside and I’ll wait with you until Feyre gets home. Maybe we can pick up where we left off in class.” Cassian slings an arm over your shoulder and grunts dramatically at the shove you give him. Azriel doesn’t like how friendly you’re being with each other, fingers tightening around the nearly empty bottle of oil.

And you have a class with Cassian too? He doesn’t like that either.

Not. One. Bit.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It’s not right.

Nothing is ever fucking right.

The tattoo gun in his hand shakes and the line squiggles, array, just like his thoughts.

It’s well into the night and yet he can’t find sleep again. Azriel had tried, he really, truly, had. He’d been tired, lied down and shoved his headphones into his ears, praying that the music would keep the thoughts at bay. Flashes of memories shattered the songs, menacing words slipping between lyrics, slicing into his brain like spears no matter how loud he turned the music.

He’d tossed, turned, done anything he could to fight away the nasty thoughts, but nothing had worked.

It had been another long day in an endless string of them. Working on both his portfolio and practicing on any willing participant he could find. Usually, his roommates. Cassian had begged him for the stupidest tattoo he’s ever been asked for—even worse than a tiny little pink unicorn tramp stamp. Even though Azriel had needed the practice badly, there was no way he’d tattoo the words ‘in case I forget later:thank you’ across Cassian’s hips.

He wouldn’t be a good friend for allowing Cass to get that, and it wouldn’t look good in his portfolio anyway.

After having a pizza dinner with his roommates, who were all too lazy to want to cook on the first night of classes, Azriel included, he’d gone straight to his room for his sketchpad, ignoring Rhysand calling after him, asking if he wanted to watch a movie with them. A part of Azriel did. He wants to be able to forget everything in his stupid brain and give his full attention to a movie, but tonight isn’t the night for that. Not with all of the dark ink splashing through his mind.

So, he’d stuffed his headphones in his ears so as not to disturb his roommate's movie night, and pulled down one of the many sketchbooks he has neatly stacked upon the shelf above his desk.

It’s black cover stared at him, the void of it much like the dark matter in his mind. The leather bound journal is thick, more so than any of his other sketchbooks, as if he can shove all of the bad thoughts into it and bind it shut so they can never escape.

It had been his therapist’s idea, the sketchbook. He’d always liked art and had drawn from a young age, but the thoughts in his brain didn’t always equate to something positive. He’d struggled with it alone for the longest time, but the incident with his step-brothers had forced him to seek therapy, encouraged by both of his roommates.

Azriel had found that therapy was not for him within the first twenty minutes of the session. He didn’t like the woman trying to pick his brain. He didn’t like her fake niceties and recounting the accident he’d been trying so hard to block from his memory. He didn’t like that his hands shook the entire time, no matter how hard he’d curled them into fists. They’d shook for the rest of the week, and it had made him angrier than ever, felt like retelling what had happened only made the memories so much clearer, giving them permission to stick to his brain.

He hated it.

But she had suggested journaling, or drawing in a sketchbook. So, despite not signing up for another session with her, he drove down to the local art supply, and bought the thickest, darkest sketchbook he could find. Azriel drove to his favorite spot in town, sat there for hours and hours, pouring every little emotion he could into the drawings until he could barely uncurl his fingers from his pencil.

He stared at the drawings and they stared right back, taunting him with their dark, shaky lines and sharp-fanged smiles. His chest constricted, breath caught thickly in his throat, and he’d slammed the sketchbook shut, binding it with the leather cord and knotting it so tightly he didn’t know if his fucked up fingers would be able to unwork it. But he’d trapped them inside of the book, and they hadn’t been able to get out. For a few days, anyway.

Azriel had considered throwing it off of a cliff. Had considered burning it, tossing it into the lake, digging a hole at the state lines and burying it. He hadn’t done any of those things, though. Once his breathing had calmed and his hands stopped shaking so badly he’d tucked it into his bag and shoved it up on the shelf with the rest of his sketch pads. No one would notice. Cassian and Rhysand didn’t enter his room if he wasn’t around, and no one else was allowed in there. Most of his other sketch books were black as well, so this one was hidden well in the midst of the others.

It brings him to now. He’d pulled the dusty sketchbook from his shelf, opening it with once again shaky hands. The thoughts had been harder to dispel lately, sleep more difficult to find. It had been easy to attempt drawing out the demons with the loudest music he could find, but even he could admit, that after letting those harrowing memories from their cage and onto the paper where he could shut the cover and trap them, he felt a little better.

Better enough to attempt to work on his tattooing skills.

But the gun in his hand still shakes.

“Fuck,” he curses, tossing the gun onto his desk. The clatter cuts through his earbuds and slides, skidding to a stop once it’s knocked into the cup of pencils and sticks of charcoal. A plume of black puffs from the chalk falling from the rim and Azriel glares. “Fuck this!”

He swipes at the jagged lines of the mountain he’d been inking above his kneecap with a paper towel, scowling at the bite of uncomfort that follows the motion. The jaggedness of his lines can be passed off as the snow lining the mountain, but he’s still pissed off. If he can’t straighten out his lines, there’s no hope for an apprenticeship at all. Of course, he can fall back on his charcoal drawings, but he’s never wanted anything more than this. He’s dreamed of becoming a tattoo artist, loves everything about it, and he doesn’t want to give everything he’s worked towards up.

Azriel slumps in his seat, ripping the black latex gloves suctioned to his hands off. Running his fingers through his hair he squeezes his eyes shut tight, swallows the lump in his throat, and breathes deeply. In. Out. In. Out again.

The music is no longer helping. He tears the buds from his ears, replacing them in their charging case with shaking hands. He grits his teeth as he stares down at the marred flesh, willing them to stop trembling.

They don’t.

Before he can do something he might regret—like smash all of his things to bits, a noise draws his attention.

It’s not coming from the living room where Rhysand and Cassian are watching some action movie. He can hear the sounds of reckless driving and explosions creeping from beneath his door. This sound, however, has something zipping up his spine, his ears perking as he listens for more.

There’s a low moan, muffled by the thin wall connecting your room from his. It sounds soft and sweet, has Azriel’s spine going tight as he sits straight in his chair, cheeks getting hotter when he realizes it’s you, and the moan is a sensual one.

You must not think he’s home because he’s not blasting music, or you don’t care if he is, or maybe this is your way of getting back at him for all of the times he’s been rude to you since you moved in.

A low curse emits from your mouth, and Azriel might think that you were in pain if he didn’t recognize the lust lining the noises you’re making, the way you seem to be begging for it, calling out to the God of Pleasure.

He can’t sit here, can’t listen to this. He can’t humanize you or listen to the sweet sounds you’re making through the wall. It’s too perverted. As much as it makes his cheeks heat it feels wrong to be listening to you pleasure yourself through his wall. His body is coiled tighter than it had been with his harrowed thoughts, and he doesn’t realize that his hands have finally stopped quivering.

Azriel springs from his chair, slipping out of his room like his ass is on fire, although there’s a warmth beneath his skin that isn’t one of hatred.

“Took you long enough,” Cassian complains when he plants himself on the couch beside him, tugging a pillow onto his lap. He needs something to hold onto, is all. His friend shoves a bowl of popcorn his way, and Azriel takes a handful, stuffing the buttery goodness into his suddenly dry mouth. “You’ve missed all the good parts, but we’re watching the second one next. Rhys will fill you in.”

“No, I won’t,” Rhys adds, completely engrossed in the car chase that’s happening. “He didn’t want to watch it when we asked, so it’s his loss.”

It’s fine, really, because the movie is the furthest thing from his mind.

Azriel can barely focus on what they’re saying, on the brightness of the movie that makes him squint, so different from that of the soft lighting in his room while he worked. He refuses to look at anything but the screen but his eyes are unfocused as his mind wanders, and then his eyes are following until he’s staring straight at the door to his room as if he can see past it and through the wall inside.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @vellichor01 @hirah-yummar @girl-who-writes-stuff @lees-chaotic-brain @konaanaria13 @emiler-love @yourdorkiness @azrielsstarlight @saltedcoffeescotch @badpvn @prongslena

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel/reader #midnight muse #art school au #tattoo arstist!azriel

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