#rhysand: do you want food

[daycourtofficial]

You’re losing me

Summary: Azriel has always put his duties as spymaster above his own needs and wants. How long can you let him keep putting work over you before boiling over?

Author’s note: I am so sorry about this babes, this is pure heartbreak. Anyway angst is a new genre for me so please lmk how this goes for you (good, bad, awful - lmk)

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

You sit in the library of your shared home, the soft cushion of your favorite armchair not providing the comfort it used to. The library was your favorite room in the house - you and Azriel spent thousands of hours in here reading independently, reading to each other, or just enjoying the silence with each other for company.

The room was beautiful- you both adored the entirety of the house, but this room drew both of you in immediately. It’s beautiful stain-glass windows creating brilliant hues of color to move about the room during the day, bringing life to the dark wood that adorns the walls of the room.

Vivid colors from the scenes in the stain glass window would dance across the floor, as if reenacting the depictions just for you two.

It’s dark now, the sun having set hours ago, and you can’t remember the last time you enjoyed the light of the room. The last time you and Azriel had enjoyed the light of the room.

The last time you and Azriel just enjoyed each other’s company without knowing he was going to leave in a matter of hours.

It was a song and dance you were familiar with by now - he’d return home from doing some work requested by Rhys, you’d make him some food, you two would snuggle or have sex, and he’d be gone by the time you woke up.

It wasn’t always like this, but the two years since the war have caused Azriel to dive headfirst into his work, accepting every scrap of work Rhysand would push his way, darting out the door like it was calling to him.

You hear the front door open, knowing who it is despite their silent entrance. Sighing, you stand up and walk out of the library, closing the door behind you.

You walked through the halls of your home, feet softly padding on the hardwood floor until you see him across the living room, still in his leathers.

It used to amuse you, when he’d return in his leathers, compared to you in your frilly nightgowns. It was quite a sight, the dark leather surrounded by the satins and cottons of your nightgowns.

Now it just furthered to prove the divide between you.

“Az, we were supposed to go to the bakery today to taste cakes.”

You hardly let him walk through the door before picking a fight, but his absence at the bakery hours ago left you ample time to stew in your negative emotions.

He runs his hand down his face, the purple and blue bruising under his eyes having grown more and more prominent over the weeks. Truthfully, you don’t want to start a fight, but you’ve let too many of these things slide in the past two years and you’re at your tipping point.

Missed dates, rescheduled dinners, missed anniversaries, cancelled trips. You had tried talking several times about it, but you need your fiancé around more than he has been. No amount of begging can make him do anything about it, though.

The most egregious of all was the continually delayed status of your wedding ceremony. You’ve had to rescind the invitations two times now, and you’re have tempted to send out fresh ones that just say “date: TBD”.

He just sighs in response, telling you, “I had to work, I had a mission.”

You sigh, knowing it was the truth. Your fiancé would never cheat on you, but he would put everyone else’s needs above his.

And above your own.

“Azriel, I really needed you today. It was important to me for you to be there.”

“It’s just a cake - pick any flavor you want. You know what I like,” he says, sitting onto the couch and taking off his boots.

“It’s not just a cake! This is your wedding too - I cannot make every decision for this. It’s supposed to be about us, not about me.”

You shake your head, exasperation bubbling to the surface, “I feel insane going to these appointments because I have a fiancé who never shows up! I swear I heard the florist say she pitied me because I pretended to be engaged!”

Azriel drags a hand down his face, “can we not do this now? I’m exhausted and want to bathe before bed.”

You huff out a laugh, as Azriel tries to move past you but you continue to follow him. “When would be a better time? You’re hardly home lately, and you leave at a moment’s notice for Rhysand.”

He whips his head at you, “it’s my job, my duty.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure you could delegate a decent proportion of your work to the people under you that you both hand selected and trained yourself!

He sighs, exasperated, “it’s my job.”

A line you’ve heard a thousand times. You knew who he was when you began dating him, you’ve always known who he was and what he did.

But you thought his need to feel worthy would wane with time, not get worse.

“You put Rhys’s needs over mine!” You’re shouting now, something you never do, and Azriel bites back, “he’s my high lord - and yours.”

“That doesn’t mean he gets to keep you at his beck and call!” Your hands were running through your hair, unable to have the same argument again and again.

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Oh so was it Rhys’s beck and call to push our wedding back three separate times?”

He whirls around at you, pointing, “That’s not fair and you know it.”

“Three times is not fair! It’s like you don’t even want it!”

His silence to your accusation rings through your ears. A damning, deafening silence.

You count to ten in your head, and he hasn’t made a sound, only looking at the ground.

His lack of words echo through your mind, even as his hands reach out to you, his desperate pleadings of “I-” and “baby” falling on deaf ears.

“I’m glad to see where we stand.”

You begin to turn, but stop yourself.

“When I told Nesta our wedding was delayed again, she told me if you really wanted it, really wanted me, you’d suggest we just run off and get married like Rhys and Feyre did.”

You take a shaky breath, “but you never did.”

You step back from him, unable to look him in the eye, unable to do much of anything, except retreat from your shared bedroom, softly shutting the door behind you.

Azriel stands in the now empty room, your footsteps ceasing down the hall but continuing in his mind. Every second he stands there, the further you become. He starts to move, starts to pick up his feet, his shadows urging him to go, go, go.

You can fix this, they tell him. Go, now.

His thoughts are broken up by Rhys’s voice, a smooth sound at such odds with the chaotic edges of his thoughts.

Az, I need you.

Azriel doesn’t even ask if it can wait. You’ll understand. He’s sure of it. He can fix things when he comes home. Rhys just needs him right now, he can help him out, then he can talk to you.

He scrawls a quick note on the table for you to find before retreating into his shadows.

He returns home a few hours later, his assistance speeding up Rhys’s needs. He stops to grab you your favorite flowers, a book you’ve been eyeing, and a necklace he’s had his eye on in the shop for ages.

The necklace gives him pause, as he realizes he first saw it eight months ago, its shine reminding him of your eyes.

Had it really been eight months?

He kept telling himself he was going to buy you the necklace for a special occasion, but so many have slipped by without his acknowledgment this past year.

Gods, he thinks, did he even celebrate your birthday?

Surely he hadn’t gotten that caught up in his work.

Had he?

The streets are quiet as he makes his way back to your shared home. He thinks over the past year and how he hardly saw you, and when he did, he often left not soon after seeing you.

He opens the door, the house eerily silent following your fight earlier. He deserved your silence. He couldn’t tell you how scared he was to marry you, tethering your soul to his for the rest of your lives.

You, who was so kind and so loving, shackled to him for eternity. He knew the insecurities were ridiculous, that you loved him with every part of yourself.

But that didn’t stop the self-hatred from oozing out of him every moment.

He hadn’t been there for you this past year. He had let his own need for approval overshadow your needs.

He groans, needing to find you so he can fix things. He walks through the house, not even realizing the book he’s carrying is a duplicate to the one sitting on the coffee table.

He starts really thinking, trying to remember the last time he had touched you, kissed you, held you.

Too long, he realizes, as he’s made his way through the whole house without a sign of you. A shadow wraps around his wrist, pulling him into the kitchen. He finds the note he had left earlier still on the table, but you had scrawled a second message underneath. Five words that break his resolve, forcing him to his knees. Your handwriting so clear, save for the splotched ink, wet from tears.

I wouldn’t marry me either.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #acotar writing

[assassinsblade]

Arrows and Ashes | 2

Azriel must balance his need for vengeance and his need to take care of you.

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff, fluff too though.

a/n: Holy shit everyone, the response to Part 1 was incredible! Seriously! All your comments and thoughts and everything are what make me want to keep writing, so thank you!!

Part 1 Part 3

—————————————

If someone would have told Azriel when he woke up that morning that he would later be kneeling in front of your bloody body, begging you to stay awake, he would have locked you inside of the House of Wind so you couldn’t leave.

He would have never let you get out of bed that morning. He would have come up with some excuse to keep you safe near Velaris, safe near him.

But he hadn’t known. So when you and Cassian left that morning to meet with Autumn Court heir, he was only slightly nervous. He hated the idea of you being anywhere near Eris, but Cassian was there, and he trusted his brother to keep you safe. He trusted that he would see you in only a few hours, sitting across from him at the dinner table, giggling at something snarky Nesta threw at Cassian while picking at the food on your plate.

So when his and Rhysand's talk was interrupted by a letter arriving from Eris Vanserra, one that made Rhys tense in his silent reading, Azriel felt his panic start to rise.

The way his heart had stopped in his chest when Rhys had read the words on the paper aloud: Your two spies missed the meeting window outside of the forest cabin, and upon investigation, were found in the dungeons of my father's establishment. We are doing what we can for the one you call Daisy, but I would advise arriving to the forest cabin expeditiously and with a healer in tow.

Azriel hadn't even waited for Rhysand to respond. He had barely gotten the words out before Azriel was winnowing to the forest cabin, his blood rushing in his veins, making him lightheaded with panic and rage.

And when he had seen you there, lying on a wooden table, bare and vulnerable with nothing but gore and a light blanket covering your form? He had nearly collapsed.

Your eyes had been swollen and wet with tears, cheeks splotchy and bruised. Everything around you had been red. The blanket, with creamy white fibers of wool woven together, was soaked red along your back. The natural brown of the table underneath you dripped with the dark red falling from your form. Your hair matted with both old and new bright red blood.

Something Azriel saw so frequently, and red quickly became his least favorite color.

He had tried to comfort you, tried to soothe any pain you were feeling, but nothing seemed to work. Each sob, cry, whimper, and croak had cracked something in his chest, and he was sure irreparable damage was being done inside of him with the agony he felt from your state.

The memory of your body shaking from the pain, of what your back looked like when the blanket was pulled back, was what made Azriel immediately demand to see what had happened in that cell.

Cassian had at first refused, tears in his eyes, insisting it was something neither of his brothers should see or experience. But Rhys also demanded to see, if only so they could track down the three males who had been with you in the dungeons.

Azriel could feel the self-hatred coming off of Cassian in waves, but the general acquiesced, giving Rhys a short nod.

Then Azriel was watching his brother go into Cassian's mind. And as Rhysand tensed and paled, stumbling at what he was seeing, Azriel found himself breathing harder, attempting to prepare himself to see you hurt.

When Rhysand came to again, both he and Cassian had tears in their eyes. Rhys met Azriel's and gave him a cautious look. Azriel only nodded.

And then he was in the dungeons, seeing from Cassian's point-of-view.

He watched as the soldiers walked into the dungeons and shackled you to the wall. There were wounds already covering your body from what looked like whips and manual beatings, and Azriel wondered what Cassian or Rhys was omitting from these memories.

But his thoughts were cut short by the sight of a sword coming down on your wings and your back arching in pain. You didn't even make a noise, your mouth open in a silent scream and body scrambling to get away.

Blood sprayed everywhere, and the motions of the soldier hacking your wings off were haphazard and angry, but also uncaring and almost bored.

Azriel had never felt as heartbroken as he did then, watching you lose your wings, your screams beginning to echo through the cell.

Cassian was trying to get you to look at him, trying to remind you that he was there, that you weren't alone, but you were too far gone to the pain and torture.

When both of your wings were nothing but ripped off limbs on the ground behind you, and your body slumped into your own blood, piss, and vomit, Azriel had already committed the males' faces to his memory.

Your bare vulnerable form, twitching and mangled on that concrete floor, would forever haunt him.

"Her wings are gone," Cassian choked out when Azriel had finished seeing the memory. "And it's all my fault."

Rhys shook his head. "It's no more your fault than mine."

Azriel didn't say anything though, because all he could feel was the anger raging under his skin, begging to be let out, and he didn't want to say anything he'd regret to either of his brothers.

He was shaking, his body burning, vibrating with energy. He turned to the auburn-haired male leaning against the wall.

"Are there wards surrounding the dungeons?"

Eris smirked. "You don't think us foolish enough to leave our prisoners unguarded, do you?"

Azriel nearly growled, his patience running thin. You were unconscious on a hard blood-soaked table only feet away from him, and it was driving him insane, panic, anxiety, fear, grief all morphing in his chest and begging him to act, act, act, seek vengeance for Daisy.

"I swear on the Mother, Eris, I will-"

"Relax." Eris sighed, pulling himself from his position by the wall. "There are wards, but I can get you through them."

Azriel only continued watching him, because it was obvious by the way the Autumn male eyed him that he was not done speaking. "The only question is -- should I? Will my father not be more angry when three of his guards turn up dead? Why should I put my ass further on the line for you bastards?"

Before Azriel could kill him, Rhys interrupted. "Having the three guards dead only plays into your favor, Eris. Say Cassian killed them when escaping. Leave evidence hinting at Cassian overpowering them."

Eris rolled his eyes but didn't protest. Azriel was glad because he was one word away from cutting out his tongue.

The Autumn male did grumble, though, as he lowered the wards long enough for the shadowsinger to winnow in. But by that point Azriel was already humming with bloodthirst, already savoring the fear he was going to suck out of the males who had hurt you, who had taken your wings.

He would make them pay, he would make them bleed.

The first guard he came across, he recognized immediately. He had been one of the two to lift you into the shackles, to make sure you body hadn't slumped out of reach of the sword.

The feeling of Truth Teller piercing his throat gave Azriel a satisfaction he would be wary to admit. He wished the male had wings Azriel could peel off himself, taking his time and basking in each scream of pain that came out of his mouth.

Instead, Azriel used his dagger to slash across the male's skin as he choked on his own blood, unable to scream. He targeted the most sensitive parts of the body, twisting the sharp weapon, pulling out nerves and tendons where he could.

When his body fell to the floor, Azriel was unsatisfied. It had been too quick, and he needed more.

He kept moving, relishing in the blood coating his hands. His siphons gleamed a bright blue that warned of his approach, that told the others he was there to exact his revenge.

When he found the second male who was backing away from him with a look of pure fear in his eyes, Azriel nearly smirked. He walked slowly toward him, and the way the male's body trembled only reminded Azriel of you. His smirk immediately dropped, replaced by an animalistic urge to kill.

Azriel thought of your shackled wrists, the way you were bound and vulnerable, and immediately threw his dagger into the male's hand with such force it impaled into the wall behind him, lodging into the space where two stones cracked.

The male screamed, and Azriel welcomed it. It filled his chest with purpose, with justice, as he screamed louder. Azriel took his sword out and cut the males arm off in one motion.

Didn't feel too good losing a limb, did it?

He did the same with the male's other arm, his legs, and then finally his head, watching as it rolled to the concrete floor.

He kicked it out of his way before moving forward once more.

He had one more target, and this one he was going to make sure lasted long. You had been held captive for hours. Tortured for hours. And he was going to repay that action, just as he told you he would.

Azriel reached where you and Cassian had been kept, and the smell in the air nearly brought tears to his eyes. It smelled of fear. Of urine, as if you had been so terrified you couldn't control your own bladder, and of blood. It permeated the room, your despair, and Azriel's hair stood on end at the scent. It made him want to return to you, to hold you and make sure you were safe, to make sure you knew you were safe.

But as he eyed the shackles on the wall, the stained red on the ground, the discarded wings in the corner, he knew he needed to slaughter this last male before he returned home.

He shoved the image of your wings, bloody and mangled only feet away, out of his mind and moved forward.

He found the last male one more room over. He was prepared, a sword raised in defense as Azriel sauntered in. His siphons blazed brighter, ready to fight and make this male feel the same pain you did.

This was the one who had cut off your wings. And he was holding the very sword he used to do so.

Azriel felt his power rumbling within him, and all at once, almost out of his control, he threw it toward the male.

It slammed into him with the force of a mountain, slamming the male into the wall behind him with a crack. The male groaned, the sword clattering from his hands, and Azriel almost complained at how easy it was going to be to kill him.

He kicked the male's sword away once he reached him, not wanting to touch your dried blood coating its edge. It made his skin crawl, and he needed it out of his sight.

Kneeling down in front of the male, he pulled him forward by his ankle, dragging him to one of the cells in the room.

He thought of you bare and vulnerable, naked and bleeding, scared and trembling.

He thought of your flayed flesh, the blood dripping down onto the floor under the table, the charred skin of your back.

He thought of your screams, your cries, the way you heaved in pain.

Azriel snapped the shackle around the male's ankle.

He flipped Truth Teller around in his hand, gaining comfort from its weight. He would do some carving with it. The male didn't have wings, but he had other things he could take away from him. He would make him feel the same vulnerability you felt, the same fear and pain you felt. And when he was done, he would burn just as you did.

For once in his life, Azriel was excited to watch flesh catch on fire.

—————————————

When Azriel returned to the forest cabin, the only people remaining were Rhys and you.

You were still unconscious, and Azriel felt his heart beat painfully in his chest at the sight. Fortunately, the excess blood, dirt, and other bodily fluids seemed to have been cleaned off you, presumably by Rhys and his magic. You now only looked pale and weak, skin still bruised and healing its wounds.

Azriel, on the other hand, was coated in blood. His fingers dripped with it, his face was splattered with it, and if his leathers were any color other than black, they would have been dyed with the red of blood too.

Rhys eyed his appearance cautiously. “I take it they are dead?”

Azriel only nodded, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His fight was over, but he was still restless, still searching for something to quell the anxiety in his chest.

“I took Cassian back to Velaris. Madja fixed up his wings, and he’s healing there.”

“Must be nice that his wings are fine,” Azriel spit out before he could stop himself.

He immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t Cassian’s fault. Cassian loved you as much as they all did, and those guards would have hurt you regardless of what Cassian had done or said.

Rhys gave him a hard look, his following words stern. “Yes, it is nice. You should also be grateful our brother is still alive.”

Azriel was quiet. He didn’t need a lecture or scolding right now. He didn’t need a high lord.

But he also didn’t know what he needed.

He turned to look at you, still laying on your stomach on the table.

“I was waiting for you to take her back home.” Rhys’ voice was softer as he watched the shadowsinger eye your form.

“She hasn’t woken up?” Azriel asked.

Rhys shook his head.

Azriel felt a pit form in his stomach as he walked toward you. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed even in your sleep, and he wondered if you could still feel any pain or if your mind was replaying traumatic memories while unconscious. The thought made him nauseous.

He reached out with a hand to lightly move the hair back from where it curled in front of your neck, but he paused seeing the blood coating his fingers.

The liquid matched the injuries on you, seemingly connected. Like a tether tied the red to the bruises on your cheekbones and undereyes, to the whip lashings on your arms, legs, and torso, to the haphazard gouges and burns on your back.

Azriel was grateful the blanket was covering the majority of your body, because just the bruises on your face made him feel weak. He was tempted to fall before you, to curl his body around your own and shield you from anyone else.

He would do anything to ensure not even a scratch was made on your skin again.

Rhysand eyed him from the other side of the room, watching Azriel hesitate to touch you.

"Let's get her home," Rhys spoke tiredly. As Azriel glanced at his red-rimmed violet eyes, he realized how emotionally drained everyone else must have been as well. "She'll be more comfortable there."

Azriel agreed. He couldn't imagine how sore you were going to be, and the wooden table underneath you was only going to aggravate your tired body. He wanted to wrap you in the softest blankets he could find, tuck you into his bed, and make sure you rested for days.

When he reached for you again, he noticed his hands were now clean. Rhys only nodded at him before Azriel could even thank him.

He eyed your bare shoulders peeking out from underneath the wool blanket and moved to grab the light nightgown presumably left by Eris. As much as he hated the male, he was grateful he had been mindful enough to grab you clothing, let alone clothing that was thin enough to not cause your injuries any irritation.

Azriel wrapped the blanket around your shoulders before pulling your body up to a sitting position. He then carefully pulled the nightgown over your head, gently moving your arms through the openings. Once in place, he readjusted the blanket around your body and picked you up into his arms.

Barely any time had passed, yet your body felt so different in his arms compared to the times he had carried you in the past. It was lighter -- a fact that caused pain to swarm in his chest as he realized it was due to your missing wings. It seemed more vulnerable as well. Fragile in such minimal clothing and covered in bruises and slashes and scars.

That protective instinct inside of him caused his scarred hands to grip you just a bit tighter.

Rhys approached, giving him an understanding look, and then you all were winnowing back to Velaris, back to your home.

As soon as he could feel the floor under his feet, Azriel was moving, filled with purpose. He needed you comfortable, he needed you warm, and he needed you safe.

So, he immediately made his way to his bedroom, not even sparing Rhys a glance or a goodbye. The high lord instead spoke into his mind: Madja left some healing tonics and creams on the counter. Directions are attached. Please keep me updated.

Taking note of that for later, Azriel laid you down onto his bed. He would have taken you to your own room, but he wanted somewhere he knew you would be safe. Somewhere he knew every inch of, somewhere he had fortified himself.

He turned you onto your stomach so as to not irritate the wounds on your back. In doing so, the wool blanket from Autumn slid from your body, and Azriel was left facing the bandages Madja had placed on your shoulder blades.

The sight of the white gauze caused Azriel to pause.

You had lost your wings.

Oh, Daisy.

Azriel slowly lowered himself to his knees beside his bed, needing a moment to compose himself before continuing to gather all the supplies he would need to care for you. Tears burned his eyes as he watched your back rise and fall with your breathing. He focused on that motion, on the reminder that you were here in his bed, alive.

He had never been more scared than when Rhys was reading that letter from Eris. When he had heard you had been hurt and that it was bad.

But there, kneeling before your battered body, Azriel was terrified all over again. You were safe now, living and breathing, but . . . he had no idea how he would fix this for you. There would no longer be any flights together during sleepless nights or teasing pokes or comments at each other's wings. No longer would he see your joyous smile when leaping from the House of Wind, allowing the wind to carry you to where you wanted to go.

Your wings had been so beautiful. Something he had admired from a young age, just like you.

He couldn't imagine losing his own wings, what it would do to him.

So, he was absolutely terrified at what you would face when waking up.

But he would be there, he vowed. He would do anything you needed. Anything you wanted, and it would be yours, and he would do it with a smile on his face and love in his heart.

Taking a deep breath, Azriel wiped his tears and rose from his position. He removed the blanket from Autumn, disliking the scent of it clinging to you in his bedroom, and instead pulled his covers over your shoulders.

Your face seemed more relaxed than it did while laying on that table, and he hoped you were comfortable, that your dreams were allowing you some peace.

It took all of his willpower to leave your side. But he needed to collect some things to make sure you would heal okay. So, reluctantly, he left his bedroom, keeping the lights off, and made his way to the kitchen to find what Madja had left.

He filled a glass of water for when you woke and approached the numerous vials on the table.

Apply once daily for the wing removal, one jar filled with white cream read. Apply once daily for the whip marks, another that had a bluish tint said. Lastly, a taller vial with a tannish-colored liquid, looking almost like tea, that read Drink at night for sleep and pain.

Azriel gathered all of them in his arms and carried them to his room. He assumed Madja would check in soon enough to see how your healing was going, and he knew he could always get in contact with Rhys to call on the healer if need be.

He just wanted to make sure you weren't in pain. The tears streaking down your cheeks earlier still haunted his memories, forming a pit in his stomach. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that his nightmares would be filled with your screams and cries for years to come.

So he would make sure these creams and tonics were applied and taken. He would advocate for you if you needed more, and he would track down every healer in all of Prythian if need be.

Setting the supplies on his bedside, he went to his bathroom and collected extra gauze and tape for when he needed to change your bandages. Once all was prepared, he looked around the space, wondering how he could make it more comforting for you. Less like the space of a spy and more like a space worthy of you.

He fiddled with his scarred fingers while his brain raced, remembering what your bedroom looked like or what you did to the rooms you read in when you wanted a night in.

Azriel quickly made his way to your room, praying to the Mother you wouldn't be angry with him for entering without your permission.

Your bedroom had been exactly what Azriel expected it to be when he first entered it all those years ago. The walls were a dark blue, decorated with drawings and artwork bought in Velaris and drawn of the inner circle. Books littered the space, along with a music player, a chest filled with trinkets from other courts, and an entire shelf of your favorite teas. Your bed was unmade and messy, white sheets and white comforter bundled altogether. There, Azriel spied what he was searching for: a little stuffed bat you slept with.

He and Cassian both had teased you relentlessly when they had glimpsed the small thing on your floor one day. Your cheeks had gone bright red as you floundered trying to explain that you didn't get to have anything like that as a child and you wouldn't be shamed for finding comfort in it now.

Azriel found it endearing. Even during his teasing, an admirable smile had still tugged at his face, his eyes gleaming with care. Such a tough girl but still soft.

He picked it up in one large hand, turning to see if there was anything else in the room you might like to have with you. A book on your nightstand you were reading, your favorite candle -- Azriel grabbed it all before going to make his exit.

When he went to leave, however, he spied something on the desk next to your door.

It was a flower. Long dead, but preserved by being pressed into artwork, framed delicately and displayed on the wooden desk. Azriel recognized that flower. One from nearly a year ago. A daisy.

Azriel had been making his way to Elain's garden, infatuated with her at the time. Knowing how much she liked plants, he had bought some beautiful flowers for her under the guise of sprucing up Rhys' and Feyre's house. But he had seen you on his way over, and your eyes had lit up seeing the bouquet. He remembered the guilt that had swirled in his stomach, seeing how just the sight of the flowers had made you happy. So he had pulled the most perfect daisy out of the variety of flowers and held it out to you.

"For our Daisy," he had said. And you had smiled so sweetly, it had warmed the guilt in his chest away.

The daisy stared back at him now, and he felt like crying again.

Because you were such a sweet soul. He knew at the time the flower would make you happy, that's why he had given it to you. But for it to mean so much to save it?

One small flower had meant so much when he had been carrying an entire bouquet for someone else.

He suddenly felt like he needed to give you the entire world.

You were such a sweet girl, and he had almost lost you.

Azriel swallowed hard, readjusting the things in his arms and leaving your room.

He would give you your stuffed bat, set your book nearby, light your favorite candle, and then he was going to order some fucking daisies.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar fic #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fluff

[thehighladywrites]

That's your mother, but she's my wife first…

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ pairing: cassian x fem!reader, the inner circle mentioned

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ summary: 18+ nsfw, mdni, light angst, stress, smut, fluff, praise, cassian channelling his inner general, reader being an absolute sweetheart who deserves everything good in life fr

⋆⭒˚｡‎♡‧₊˚ amara’s note: okay so I don’t have any kids so some parts might be inaccurate but close your eyes please🤞🏽i have nothing else to say, i just wanna fuck cassian so bad rn...

Spilled milk, mismatched socks, wailing babies.

Gods, what you wouldn’t do for a moment of peace…

Your children were usually calm, even when they were tumbling down stairs and running into tables, but during your youngest twin kids teething phase, they developed an interest for chewing on anything. Their outburst put your two other kids in distress, making it a difficult period for everyone.

In your attempt to keep your twins safe, you unintentionally became the evil mother for denying them the joy of chewing on concrete bricks, their father’s important books and a million other dangerous things that a child simply shouldn’t be putting in their mouth. 

They had been given enchanted teething toys made out of moonstone by their uncle Rhysand, but it didn’t keep them entertained at all. Safety was apparently too boring for them.

This morning was extra rough because Cassian had to leave early for a mission, leaving you with four kids. Although the two oldest ones, 7 and 12, could get themselves ready for the day, they still needed some help with some things. You were downright in a foul mood, feeling the weight of frustration and helplessness as the twins wailed and your oldest ones argued, all while trying to keep your emotions hidden.

“ You took the last pancake, Ves!” your son angrily sliced the remains of his food as your daughter, Vesna, looked at him with anger. “ I don’t care. I told you that I wanted it and you made no move for it, Therian. Blame yourself and be quicker next time.” she bickered back. They kept arguing about that stupid pancake as you picked your twins and moved to the rocking chair across the livingroom to sooth them. The kitchen seamlessly flowed into the living room, creating an open floor plan that allowed you to effortlessly monitor Vesna and Therian.

 “ It’s okay, babies. There we go, hush now.” But it didn’t work, they kept screaming and you were at your breaking point. You felt like the worst mom ever as you looked up, took a deep breath and blinked back tears. 

You almost yearned for Cassian's return, craving the comfort of your mate's presence amid the chaos. Yet, the nagging self-doubt held you back, hesitant to burden him with your distress and feeling a twinge of selfishness in the idea of asking him to cut short his mission. Despite the internal struggle, you chose to tough it out, convincing yourself that countless women had faced similar challenges, wondering if you could measure up to their strength.

Unbeknownst to you, you had been signaling Cassian with your feelings through the bond since this morning. He was already on his way back the moment your emotions reached him. He was just in time to hear your daughter’s frustration directed towards you, though none of you had felt his presence or heard him approach your home. 

“Mom, you're seriously failing at shutting them up. It's not dragon taming to handle two kids, and it shouldn't be this painful for the rest of us. How about you take them outside and only come back when you've figured out how to keep them quiet? Because none of us can stand the noise.” You looked at her stunned as a million thoughts went through your head. Guilt, anger and self-doubt took root inside you.

 Guilt, because was she right? Anger, because she shouldn’t have spoken to you like that ever. Self-doubt, because your fears and feelings about motherhood were spoken out loud. 

Your first-born had a sour expression on her face that quickly fell before she looked down at her plate sheepishly. Maybe she felt regret? But what made her react like that instantly? Your daughter could be hotheaded and it usually took her a few hours to calm down, but not this quick. 

Looking at where she removed her eyes from, you look and see your husband, body tense and wings tucked in tightly. You felt immediate comfort and wanted to throw yourself in his arms and fucking cry. How you had missed him this much in only a few hours was a mystery. 

His boots thudded heavily against the wooden floors as he approached your embarrassed daughter. “Look at me,” was all he needed to say before Vesna reluctantly lifted her head. She knew he was going to chew her out. He clenched his jaw in anger as he looked down at her. “Your lack of empathy for what your mother is dealing with right now is astounding. Instead of criticizing, maybe you should try contributing to the solution. We're a family, and we handle things together, not by throwing blame around. She's your mother, but remember that she's my mate and wife first, and no one speaks to my mate and wife with disrespect ever, not even you. Now go ahead and apologize to her.”

Your husband, ever the general.

With teary eyes, realizing the gravity of her words, Vesna approached you. “Hey, Mommy,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. She hadn’t called you mommy in forever. “I... I shouldn't have said those things. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so harsh. I know it must be difficult and my anger took over. I really love you and I’m sorry.”

You were a bit surprised by the apology and softened your expression before replying, “It's okay, sweetheart. We all have our moments. Just remember, we're a team, and we need to support each other.” She nodded, still feeling a bit guilty, and said, “I'll try to do better. Can I help you with anything now?”

A genuine smile appeared on your face as your replied, “That would be wonderful. Let's work together to make things smoother for everyone. How about you start clearing the table and Therian picks up things from the floor.” She nodded and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before hurriedly making her way back to the kitchen table. Cassian gave her a kiss on the head and gave her a proud smile.  “I’m glad you apologized, and it takes courage to admit when we’re wrong. Let’s move forward now. Your willingness to help now means a lot. Thank you.”

Feeling the tension ease after the daughter's apology, your mate approached you. He gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “Hi pretty.” You look up at him with a thankful smile. “Hi lover.” He smiles right back at you. “I know it's been a rough day. I’m so proud of you, sugar. We'll get through this together. How about you go upstairs and soak in the tub while I take care of the kids.” He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, and wrapped his arms around the twins who had gone quiet.

Feeling reassured by Cassian’s comforting words, you smiled appreciatively. You gave him a tender kiss in thanks before scurrying upstairs, grateful for the support and unity he provided for your family. 

As you undressed, a delightful surprise caught your eye – the tub was filled, and a slice of your favorite cake awaited you on a nearby table. Gratefully, you thanked The House for the steaming tub and the unexpected treat. Stepping in, you let the heat envelop you, soothing the tension in your muscles. Time seemed to blur as you relaxed in the warm water — minutes or hours, it was hard to keep track. Exhaustion gradually overcame you, and your eyelids grew heavy in the comforting embrace of the tub, a sweet slice of cake adding to the calmness of the moment.

Entering the room, Cassian caught sight of you in the steaming tub, content and relaxed. A mixture of emotions flooded over him – admiration and a deep love that seemed to intensify in this quiet scene. He approached silently, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. Gently, he reached out to stroke your hair, his eyes reflecting the warmth and affection he felt. In that intimate moment, a silent understanding passed between you, affirming that you’d never be alone ever. You’d be there for each other and it made your heart swell. 

Curiosity lit up your eyes, you looked at your husband and asked, “Hey, where are the kids? Did you take care of them?”

A gentle smile played on his lips as he revealed, “Actually, Rhysie and Feyre picked them up. They thought we could use a quiet weekend, just the two of us. They’re taking Nyx, Ves and Theiran on a trip up the mountains but the twins are staying at the River House with Elain and Lucien. She made a special herbal blend that helps their gums, it’s all very Elain.”

Surprise and gratitude washed over you as you processed the thoughtful gesture. “That's so sweet of them, you remarked, a genuine smile forming. “A quiet day sounds perfect.” You exchanged a glance, appreciating the unexpected silence given by thoughtful friends.

“So, are we entirely alone for the entire weekend?” You attempted to conceal your smile as warmth surged in your belly upon meeting Cassian's gaze, only to discover him returning a heated look. “Indeed, sweetness. It's just you and me, alone. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?” His commanding, taunting voice always managed to drive you crazy. He had a charming voice that you could listen to forever. “I can think of a few ways…” you responded as you stood up, dripping wet. You beckoned him closer  and deeply inhaled his delicious scent. He smelled like home. Throwing your arms around him, you inched your lips closer to his, teasing him, not letting him get close enough for a real kiss. He frowned and slightly pouted. “Either give a proper kiss or I walk away.” You knew it was a false threat. Cassian wouldn’t ever leave your embrace now that he was turned on. 

But you decided to keep playing with him, wanting to see how far you could push him. 

“Yeah? Walk away then, baby.” You let your arms drop to the side, slightly tilting your head with a small smirk on your lips. You felt a surge of amusement as you observed him, jaw tight and knuckles white from clenching, meeting your gaze with defiant determination. “Stop fucking with me, y/n/n. You want me as much as I do.” It was his turn to return a mocking smirk. “ What, you think I don’t know you by now? You think I don’t know that you wanna be fucked until you can’t think straight? Little one, I have years on you. I know your body better than you. I’ll ask again. Are you going to kiss me properly or do I walk away?”

 Fucking hell. He really did know your body better than you since his words only fueled you on. While you enjoyed toying with him, it was time to throw in the towel. No way where you wasting any more time. With hands behind your back you looked up at him, doe-eyed and blushy. “I’ll give you a proper kiss, Cassie. Then please take me to bed.” He smiled down at you with a devilish smile, putting his hand on your hips as he pulled towards his warm chest. “ Whatever my baby wants, she gets.” With hands on his chest, you stood on your toes as water swished around your legs, putting your plush lips against his soft ones. 

 Careful, gentle, loving, comforting and really fucking hot.

That was all you could think of when you were kissing him. One of his warm hands roamed all over your body as his other one cupped your face, deepening the kiss. Your own hands stayed in one spot, your favorite place to put your hands. His chest. You absolutely loved touching his chest. Giving his pecs a light squeeze, resting against them, anything really. Centuries of honing his body into a weapon had made him look like a god. 

You wanted to dry off and move to your bedroom, and as if Cassian had read your thoughts, he grabbed the towel without breaking the kiss and wrapped it around you. He simply picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved to the bedroom before gently lowering you to the soft bed. Cassian caught your wrists and pinned them, crisscrossed, above your head while he settled between your legs, once again wrapping them around his waist. You kissed until your lips swelled and pulled away for air. 

He forced your legs apart, hand cupping your pussy. You let out a gasp, quickly gripping onto his broad shoulders. Cassian carefully watched your face as it contorted into pleasure when he pushed in two fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let out a moan.

 “Feels good, wifey? ” Cassian asked as your nails dug into his shoulders, hips bucking into his touch. “ mhmm, yeah it feels really fucking good.” you managed to respond as you felt his fingers speed up, curling into that delicious spot that made you absolutely melt. 

He wanted to be inside of you, fuck you and ruin you all over the sheets. “ It would feel a lot better  if I had you wrapped around my cock.” He said, looking up at you through is his dark lashes, eyes full of mirth. You clenched around his fingers at the thought of him filling you up with his thick cock. It had been a while since you had been properly dicked down by him, since you two were busy with life and kids. Quickies, fingering and handjobs were all you had time for since the twins were born 6 months ago. As much as you loved your kids, you also loved alone time with your mate and it was rare these days. So of course you’d use this weekend to get fucked, and maybe that would help you relax a bit. Cassians cock had always been the answer for you. 

Mad? Get dicked down. Sad? Get dicked down. Happy? Get dicked down. 

Huh. 

No wonder you had four kids…

You nodded eagerly at him, “ Please cassie, fill me up. I really need it.” He sat up, dumped his clothes on the floor and positioned his cock infront of your throbbing core, teasing a bit. He used his fingers to scissor you open a bit. When you felt even more slick under his touch he retracted his fingers and licked your wetness off of them. He smiled at around his fingers and said, “Delicious.” Your chuckle morphed seamlessly into a moan when he slammed his lenght into you.

  He let out a sound of pleasure as he pushed himself into you. You clenched around his cock, you were so wet and slippery around him. He let out a pleased groan as he started giving you deep strokes. His pace quickened with the intention of finishing inside of you. He loved to make a mess of your pussy like that, fuck you full of his cum and watch it slowly drip out. Nothing made him more possessive than seeing his mate full of his cum. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me, I’m so proud of you, my beautiful girl.” He knew the exact words you needed today and it made you feel so emotional that he knew you this well. 

You blushed. Pleasure crept up your spine once more. Your legs were starting to shake, sweat coated your back. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you as his strokes were getting faster and faster, his lips muffling your moans. He kept up the pace, feeling the pleasure flow through his body, bringing him closer to climax. He loved the feeling of you around him.

 He was addicted to it. He was addicted to you.

You moaned and arched your back as he continued to fuck into you. You wanted to cum so badly, and as if Cassian once again read your mind, he said something that almost made you cry.

“ Don’t cum yet.”

He must have caught your annoyed stare because he looked down, sporting his usual grin, and said, “I want us to come together. You can handle that, right, pretty?” Your brows furrowed as you attempted to feign annoyance, though deep down, you weren't truly bothered at all.

 No, no you weren’t mad at all because if he was adamant about you finishing together, then you’d do everything in your power to make it happen. You got closer to him, pressing a quick kiss before deepening it as your tounges swirled around each other before you pulled away, biting his lip. He let out a groan and it only spurred you on. You pulled out all your tricks, whispering downright filthy things in his ear. That seemed to do the trick. Cassian thrusted deeper and deeper, rubbing tight circles on your neglected clit before you came in unison. 

You moaned at the feeling, warmth filled you as his pace started to slow down. Your mate collapsed on top of you and your put his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. He remembered that he hadn’t pulled out yet but before he could you stopped him. 

“ Please baby, don’t pull out yet. It feels really warm and good and I want you in me forever.”

You felt his chest rumble with a gentle laughter. “ Whatever you want, you shall have. You did so well, sugar. I love you.” You kissed his forehead and gave him praise back. “ Thank you, baby. I’m so happy you’re here, I love you too.”

Safe to say you fucked the whole weekend, everywhere, only taking breaks for food and occasional naps. But you also basked in the intimacy of having him. by yourself. Eating together, talking about everything between the heavens and earth, cracking jokes and just enjoying yourselves. 

You and your mate, together for all eternity...

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #feyre x reader #lucien vanserra x reader

[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner - Azriel

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: four times someone notices something weird about Azriel, and that time someone figured it out.

Remember, I'm taking requests! This Azriel fic is an Azriel x reader, but she doesn't appear yet. Let me know if you want a second part with a formal introduction to the family!

Through the years, Cassian had learned a few things about Azriel. He could proudly say that, even if he wasn’t a spy master himself, he was quite observant. Picked things here and there about people, noticed small habits and routines. For example, he knew that Rhysand liked his coffee boiling hot, that Mor always brought something red from wherever she traveled, and that Feyre ordered the colors she painted with in certain way.

From all of them, he spent most time with Azriel, so it made sense that Cassian knew him. Or thought so.

Cassian knew Azriel sometimes talked to his shadows, even argued with them. The male liked his boots clean and couldn’t stand blood on his clothes. He preferred tea over coffee and liked bad jokes, even if he always scoffed at them.

Cassian thought Azriel was a picky eater. That he hated berries, because he had never seen his friend eat any.

So, when after a tough monthly shopping session for the house, he found a berries box, he opened it without a second thought. It was what he always did – eat from the box before he put it away, infatuating Rhysand, who liked everything in its place.

He only had time to open the box and touch the first berry before Azriel snatched it from his grip, tucking it away.

“Don’t touch it” he grumbled, still focused on putting the eggs away.

“Why not? Rhy’s not here. He won’t mind” he would mind, thought. Not that Cassian had cared about it. “It’s just one berry. I barely ate lunch”

“That sounds like your problem” Azriel gave him a wary look when he tried to get closer. “Don’t”

“They’re berries. Give them to me” Cassian replied, putting his palm up and waiting for his snack.

“You’ll have to wait until dinner”

Cassian frowned, because it might had been one berry, but berries were brought because he liked them and usually ended up in a bag in his room, either way. The only problem he had faced so far was Rhysand disappointed face when he found the empty box laying on the counter.

He rounded the kitchen island until he was next to Azriel. Once more, he reached for the box of berries. That time, he was met with a cold, aggressive grip on his wrist by one of his shadows.

“Dude. What’s with the berries?” he asked, staring at his unmoving wrist with morbid fascination.

“I bought them for me, they’re not for the house”

“You don’t… like berries”

Azriel seemed surprised at the statement, and finally looked at him. And for the first time in a long time, Cassian realized he had surprised him. That he had caught Azriel in a lie, or maybe in an omission of the truth. A truth he didn’t want or feel like sharing.

Maybe, any other day, Cassian would have let it go by. If it had happened with any other food, or with any other person, it wouldn’t have made him suspicious. But Azriel actually looked surprised, and Cassian had tried enough to know it was impossible to catch him in a lie.

“Well, I do now” he shrugged finally. “So keep your nasty hands out of the box”

Before Cassian could reply, the shadow holding his hand curled back into its master and Azriel winnowed away, berries in hand and a soft smile on his face.

-

Even though Mor didn’t like Azriel the way he liked her, couldn’t love him like he wanted to, she appreciated him as a friend. As a good friend, who was there for her always and through everything. And it was selfish of her, she knew, but she had grown used to the details of being loved. Appreciated, cared for. Wanted.

When she caught his gaze across the room, she was used to watching him blush and look away. When they went out to have fun, she was used to his eyes fixed on her back, not subtle at all. And worst of all, she had been kind of taking advantage of the presents he gave her every now and then.

They weren’t short of money, and Azriel had bought her many things through the years. Something she stared at, something that made him think of her. Multiple things that warmed her heart, not in the way he wanted to.

It was only logical that when she found Azriel at her door with a velvet box, looking nervous and shy, it was just that.

“Az. What a surprise” she tried to smile. Tried not to think about his dejected face once she told him she appreciated the gift but wanted to be alone. “Isn’t it too late for you to be up?”

“Yeah, I… it’s been a rough day” he shrugged.

The first indication that something was different was that he didn’t shy from her stare, nor hid the box behind his back. The second was that he didn’t leave it at her hands like a timing bomb.

Mor raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue. She had been about to go to sleep, after a long day for herself, and supposed half of Velaris was already deep into it.

“Maybe you want to come in?”

She couldn’t physically let him down, drop his expectations and hurt him. More than once, she had given him false hopes in fear of losing the friendship. And when she opened a little bit farther the room of her apartment, she intended to do that.

To accept whatever he had brought her, to hug him tight and thank him, and to let him know that she was really tired and would see him tomorrow, maybe. Then, she would go to bed feeling like a horrible person.

Mor didn’t expect Azriel to open the box himself, and show her something she knew wasn’t for her.

Inside the box, was a beautiful blue sapphire necklace, encased in a silver tear that shone under the moonlight. Everything Azriel had got her, everything anyone got her, was always red. Because that was her color, that was her soul. Not blue and delicate, like the piece of jewelry he held in his hands. 

Azriel didn’t have to say anything else before she noticed the problem.

“It broke and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s… really important for me. And I need it for tonight. For right now” he rambled, like she had never seen him do. “I stayed working late and now the shop is closed”

“It’s beautiful” she whispered, having seen nothing so soft, so beautiful lately. “How did it break?”

“Doesn’t matter. Can you fix it? Like, right now?”

Azriel could have asked her to go through her own jewels and pick the most beautiful to give it to him, and she would have said yes, because she owned it to him. So she nodded and ushered him inside, with her eyes fixed on the necklace.

She didn’t mention that it was too delicate for him, that it was obviously for a woman. Mor ignored her conflicted thoughts about it as she touched the broken chain.

It only took her thirty minutes to find a chain similar to the original one, and another ten to convince Azriel to take it and don’t worry about it. Any trace of sleep erased from her body as she stared at him. At Azriel looking at the fixed necklace with a crooked smile.

“Who is it for?” she asked finally, as she opened the door for him once more. “Anyone special worth mentioning”

“No one. It’s a family relic, from my mother I think” he explained, looking between her and the open air. As if he couldn’t stand staying in the ground a second longer. “Thank you for fixing it. See you tomorrow, Mor”

Two thoughts were on her mind as she closed the door. The first one, was that she knew for a fact that blue was his color, not his mother’s color. She wore green, purple, black. Dark colors, if the portraits were correct.

The second thought, that was confirmed when she looked at her stunned face in the mirror, was that Azriel hadn’t acknowledge her outfit. A thin, black nightgown that barely covered her thighs, and that other nights had sent the shadow singer stuttering apologies right and left before leaving in a rush. 

-

Amren stared with half-closed eyes at her friends, noticing the change right away.

She usually wouldn’t entertain that type of activities, thinking ‘family game nights’ were a waste of time. But since Feyre appeared in their lives, she had to admit she liked her family better. She liked the way Rhysand softened around her, how at ease he was and how relaxed she made everyone.

True to her habits, Amren had chosen the farthest chair and the most expensive wine, and was watching the night unfold in front of her.

At the begging, she had thought it was weird that Azriel, almost as closed off as her, had walked in with a bright smile on his face. His hair had been ruffled in a windless, summer night, his shoulders wider.

It took him almost an hour to identify the new smell in the room, and find the source around his wrist. Almost unnoticeable between all of the scents combined – yet clear enough for her.

She stared at the black rubber band around his wrist, similar to the ones Cassian wore but not quite the same. Amren made it her mission to unfold the different smells and identify the new ones.

Rhysand’s was dark and fresh, like the night. His was intertwined with a sweeter one, Feyre’s, that smelt like vanilla and power. Raw, beautiful power that Amren admired.

Cassian’s was wild and abundant. He smelt like war camps and sweat, but somehow, like home too. Nesta’s scent was there too, even if the female wasn’t around. Amren could identify her just fine – and the new scent wasn’t hers.

After filtering the rest of presences, she finally focused on the band. Azriel was still unmated, that much she could tell. His was like ashes and candles. And behind all of that, she finally found it – baked bread, fresh food, vegetables.

“What are you looking at?”

Her line of sight was interrupted when Azriel pushed his sleeve farther down his arm, covering the rubber band. He knew where Amren was looking, and Amren knew that the question wasn’t rude. Still, Azriel’s voice held an edge she had only heard in Cassian or Rhysand’s voice before.

She smiled lazily at him before answering, making sure everyone was busy trying to guess what Rhysand was gesturing.

“Nothing, boy”

“You were staring quite hard for being nothing” Azriel replied. He fixed his hazel eyes on her, a hard edge on his features.

“I thought I smelt something on you” she purred, enjoying way too much the way the spymaster tensed. “Have you grown a sweet tooth lately?”

Amren usually didn’t stick her nose where it didn’t belong. She liked her life quiet, and minding other people business wasn’t her thing. Every now and then, she did like riling up Cassian or messing with Mor, but she had yet to play with the shadowsinger.

She respected him just as much, if not more, as the rest of the family. Understood the difficulty of his job, the people’s souls he carried behind. Most of their interactions were friendly and cordial, nothing more.

However, that night she felt like she had found something wort digging in.

“Do they know yet?” she asked him when Azriel didn’t answer.

“That I stopped in my way here to buy food?” even if the irritation and protectiveness fell from his face, a muscle of his jaw twitched. “Yeah. Cassian already ate half of the banana bread”

“He did, now?”

They silently stared at each other for a long minute. She dared him to deny it once more, to tell her that the smell under his sleeve was just from a quick stop to the bakery. He dared her to ask about the rubber band and give him an excuse to leave the game night.

Finally, Amren looked away and answered correctly to what Rhysand was trying to represent with gestures. Cassian got up and quickly started an argument about how to gesture correctly, while Feyre just laughed her ass off and Mor scurried off to bring more wine.

The next time Amren looked at Azriel’s wrist, the rubber band was gone.

-

The clock chimed five times in a row when the door finally opened, and Rhysand looked up from the papers on his desk. Apparently, he had to write a formal apology to the summer court in Cassian’s account, and certainly, he wasn’t any close to writing it than what he was in the afternoon.

Now, at five o`clock in the morning, his worry had gotten the best out of him. Rhysand had promised himself that, if by the time the sun came up Azriel wasn’t back, he would start destroying Illyrian camps until he found him.

“Before you say anything” Azriel rose a bloodied hand towards the high lord, and no matter how old Rhysand was, he felt his heart plummeting to the ground in worry. “Not my blood. Not even a scratch”

“Hard to believe. You’re leaving a puddle of it in my carpet” his voice was stained, his anger and worry mixing together.

“I…”

For the first time, Rhysand watched Azriel lost at words. The male looked down at his clothes, that were indeed soaked in blood and gore. He was still carrying all his swords and knives. And from where Rhysand stood behind his deck, he could see none of them had been left unused.

He had received a note from Azriel a day ago saying he was going to check on some Illyrian camps for illegal wing clipping, and that he would be gone for a few hours. Since then, Rhysand had had to deal with the worry and panic of not knowing if he was alive, since he closed his mind to Rhys.

Azriel looked back at him, and any type of sermon would have to wait until the morning. Rhysand got up and circled the desk, until he was in front of his friend. Who looked at him with sorrow and pain.

Rhysand didn’t let the surprise of seeing the shadowsinger, the spy master, so vulnerable. He only gripped his shoulder tight.

“What happened?”

“They didn’t even deny it” Azriel admitted, his voice tight. “One of the girls in the village was brave enough to show me where they keep them”

“Keep what?” even if he asked, Rhysand had a feeling he knew.

“The wings. They kept all the wings pinned to a tavern’s wall, like fucking hunting prices. Rhys, they were so… so many. So many”

He knew his brother’s history with the camps. Had seen what they do to women for himself, had fought for years against it. Still, Azriel had always been the calmer one. Cassian often went into carnages when he found an illegal clipping, but Azriel was the one to ask first and kill later. To organize trips into the mountains with reinforcements and not take decisions by himself.

The Azriel covered in blood in front of him, with tears shinning on his eyes, was new.

Rhysand was at loss as words, torn between beating him for his stupidity of leaving alone and going back himself to look for survivors and kill them slower.

“What you did… Az, anything could have happened to you” he tried to reason. “You know better than to do this on your own. What happened?”

“I got a strong hold. Knew where to find them.”

“How?”

Azriel didn’t answer, and Rhysand didn’t need to pry into his mind to know he would find it closed. Sighing, he pulled Azriel close. It didn’t matter that he was staining his clothes too, that Feyre was still waiting for him in bed and that he was ready to drop dead from worry.

Rhysand hugged Azriel and let him grip his vest until it wrinkled, until he was ready to talk. He trusted him with his life, and he had a feeling whatever was what had brought Azriel to that camp wasn’t ready to be shared yet.

He didn’t count the minutes that passed by until his body relaxed between his arms, didn’t acknowledge the wetness on his neck.

“I need to do something”

“What? Unless it’s a fucking bath and – “

“No, I won’t – it’s not what you think” Azriel took a deep breath and locked his eyes with Rhysand. The high lord nodded. “I’ll talk about it tomorrow, I promise. But just tonight, I need you not to ask question. I won’t be sleeping in my dorms”

“You need to take a bath and rest”

“I will take a bath and rest”

Rhysand knew Azriel had an apartment, somewhere. He knew where Mor lived, where Amren had bought a house, but his brother had lived as long as he could remember in the wind house, with him. He didn’t have many personal details, but in the room at the end of the corridor he kept his weapons and clothes.

He even kept the horrible scarf Nesta knitted him last year that everyone else had thrown away.

Before he said anything else, something in his soul told him to shut up. To accept his request, the only one he had done in a long time, and leave the details for the next morning.

“I guess it’s time for me to go home too” he smiled softly. “Just – clean off that blood. And don’t forget to report in the morning. We need to talk”

“We will”

Without further explanation, Azriel disappeared between his shadows. And Rhysand was left with the sudden smell of burnt bread under his nose.

-

What Feyre missed the most about her human life, and from the spring court, were the quiet walks in nature. The smell of leaves and grass, the sounds of the animals and the absence of other voices. Velaris was a busy place, and even if the people were more than nice, she missed quiet.

Nyx had made sure that his mom never knew quiet again.

He was a happy baby, loud and cheerful, and slept less than any person Feyre had known. Always wide awake, smiling and babbling. Before he even turned one, she had grown used to taking midnight strolls down the Wind House like another routine.

That night, Nyx was playing with her tattooed fingers and munching on his pacifier, still managing to babble some words. Rhysand had gone to bed late and was sleeping in their room, unaware of the night walk. And Feyre, who held Nyx tightly against her chest, felt like falling asleep on her feet.

She was considering turning around and letting Nyx lay awake staring at the ceiling when the baby stopped moving.

“Time for a diaper change?” she guessed, used to that type of silence. “I’ve never met a stricter person when it comes to schedule. Most people use the bathroom at day, you know?”

“Bah”

“Yeah, most people sleep at night, I guess” she sighed.

Still, when she felt his diaper, she found it empty, and after a quick inspection of smell, she discovered it was clean. Through her sleepy haze, she frowned and looked at Nyx. He was pointing to the open door to the kitchen, to the table next to the entrance.

As the rest of the house, the kitchen was empty. Not even Azriel’s shadows, who usually snuck around and entertained Nyx for a while, were there.

Feyre walked inside the kitchen as Nyx became more restless, until the baby was close to the object he pointed at. Then, almost dropping from her embrace, he put his chubby hands on the surface and tried to crawl to his destiny.

“Nyx, baby, it’s late. You already had dinner” she sighed, trying to pull Nyx back.

But as soon as she separated his hands from the table, Nyx let the pacifier drop and whined pitifully. He smacked one rebel hand against Feyre’s cheek, showing her his utter disapproval of the action.

All Feyre needed was another slap to the face before she gave in and let Nyx have his way. She let the baby sitting on the counter, and holding his back, she bent down for the pacifier. When she rose again, Nyx had found his prize – something that certainly didn’t belong to their kitchen, since the most complex food she could make was soup.

Large and thin like a fork, Nyx was holding a kitchen tool made of plastic. It ended in soft peaks, similar to a brush. Similar to the baby brush Feyre used with him.

“Did you winnow that here?” she asked Nyx, not expecting an answer. “Please tell you didn’t steal anything”

Lately, Nyx had picked up his father’s power and was starting to conjure things he wanted or needed. It was cute, whenever it was a toy or a plushie. Last month, it was a very distressed Cassian that fell on Feyre, and it was not cute.

But before she could think about Nyx winnowing the tool, she recognized the already familiar smell of bread and cinnamon. Feyre smiled as Nyx brushed its end against his face, and the baby giggled.

During the next ten minutes, she brushed the tool herself against her baby’s hair, tummy and neck. It might had been a little unhygienic and certainly not very mom-like, but it was getting Nyx to drop his eyes and lean against her.

She ended up carrying the baby asleep on her arms, still gripping the new acquisition tight on his fist.

As Feyre let him rest on the crib and tucked him in, Rhysand finally woke up. He apologized softly for not getting up and urged his mate to get in bed with him. Just before he could fall back into a blissful sleep with his family safe besides him, Feyre spoke.

“Remind me tomorrow to wash that thing and give it back to Azriel’s mate. She’ll be happy to know it also works as a baby wand to sleep”

Feyre drifted off with his back to Rhysand as the male got up from the bed, processing the new information.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

#azriel #azriel fic #azriel one shot #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel acotar #acotar imagine #acotar #acotar one shot #acotar fic #acotar x reader #acotar x you #imaginesmai #imaginemai #imagine mai #imagines mai #x reader #fic #imagine #one shot #cassian #mor #rhysand #feyre #nyx #amren

[readychilledwine]

His, Yours, Mine

Summary - Finding out you were pregnant should have been the best news. It's too bad you don't know which of your three mates is possibly the father, though.

Prompt - Day 3 - Secrets

Warnings - slightly hidden pregnancy trope, pregnancy, being put in a protective bubble, alcohol mentioned, slightly angsty but I know some of you are hurting from all the angst going around so it turns to Fluff quickly.

A/N - Happy @polyacotarweek day 3! I almost turned this into a Lucien x Reader x Tamlin fic before I decided to keep it with the batboys to include Starfall. There is still an urge to make a Spring Court Trouple version of this, though, so let me know. Also, I included how I imagined Rhysand discovering Feyre's pregnancy went. As much as I hate the storyline, I can see him being so emotional over a baby

💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕

Madja held your hand in hers as you cried. You cried from joy, from frustration, from shock, from sadness. This should have been the happiest news of your long life, but you found yourself more confused than anything.

“It is a blessing from the Mother, y/n.” She ran a hand along your cheek, “They will be overjoyed.”

The laugh you let out was bitter. “I can't even tell them who the father is.”

“Does it matter in this type of relationship? All of them will be happy. They all want a family with you, together."

To you, it mattered. It mattered so deeply that two weeks into knowing, you still had your scent glamored when your mates were home, hiding the babe from them until you thought of the perfect thing to say.

Guilt had started eating at you as you pulled away from them, lying about stress from the new play you were asked to write the symphony for. Azriel so desperately wanted a family, even if he would not admit it, and was willing to wait until after you had given his brothers their babies. Cassian wanted a daughter more than he wanted food some days. He spoke about it constantly, about how he would braid her hair and purchase her beautiful dresses. Rhys wanted every baby you two passed on the street, always stopping to say hello and get to hold the smallest members of his court. He said it was practice for when you would bless him. Son or daughter, it did not matter to him.

You felt like this was bound to disappoint two of them, a babe, but not theirs. You signed as you continued putting away the sheet music you had been composing on. "What are we going to do, little one?" You placed a hand on your stomach.

You were home alone, magic completely dropped, and so deep into organizing your next big composition, you had not noticed Rhys walking in with two glasses of champagne until they had long shattered on the floor.

“Baby,” he whispered. He fell to his knees before you, hands gripping your hips gently as his forehead rested against your lower stomach. “Baby.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him, basking in the joy he was sending so deep down the bond that your other two mates appeared. Cassian, always with weapons in hand, dropped them instantly. He didn't even care as they joined the scatter glass and champagne on the floor. He was at your and Rhysand's side instantly, kissing you deeply before kneeling next to Rhys and kissing the side of you stomach. Azriel had frozen, eyes wide and staring at you. “You're sure?”

All Rhys could do was nod, whispering again, “Baby. We're having a baby."

Dinner was a celebration just the four of you. The males all too happily planning out a nursery. You pushed the food around your plate, feeling too guilty to enjoy the meal Cassian had made you all. “Y/n, what's wrong?” Azriel pulled you to him. “Is it the babe? Do you need to lay down?”

You felt tears begin to fall as the guilt consumed you. “I don't know which one of you is the father.”

You waited. Waited for the 3 of them to fight, to lay claim to the babe, but Cassian and Rhys just both looked at Azriel and then you. “It is technically Azriel's,” the High Lord spoke slowly. “You smell like him. But it is also mine. Also, Cassian's. The babe is ours. We all are it's father.”

“But-”

“Sweetheart,” Cassian took your hand. “We knew once this bond happened, there was a chance you would get pregnant, and we wouldn't know who fathered the baby until the scent kicked in.. We do not want to be fathers, though. We want to be dads. We love you and the little babe, regardless of you smelling like Azriel.”

Azriel was nuzzled into you. “We accepted a long time ago that everything you got pregnant, you would smell like only one of us, and that one of us would get more protective.” He kept scenting you. “I would have been happy if it was Rhysand's or Cassian's.”

Rhysand finally spoke again. “A babe is always a means for Celebration as well.” You groaned. “I am thinking of an announcement at Starfall? With all of our family there?”

“That's only 2 weeks for me to plan and put something together.” You were used to Rhysand giving you short deadlines for things involving your family, the rest of the Inner Circle, and the Court of Nightmares, but for all of Velaris? You held those events to such high standards, and had since Rhysand asked you to take over that duty as High Lady.

“You could keep it simple this time?” You turned slowly to Cassian, glaring as he put his hands up in surrender. “Or not. Murder hormones kicked in today. Noted."

And “simple” had no place in the description of what you had done. You had made the choice to have the Rainbow opened to the celebration, watching as guests admired every faelight enchanted to twinkle like the stars themselves, watching as every guest took their turns on the dance floor you had put temporarily into the center of the large open theater. Rhys had allowed you to spare no expense. Vendors had made countless cakes and treats, food was plenty, drinks were pouring, and the orchestra played lively music.

You were shielded in the magic bubble all three males had demanded you be put in, but it wasn't enough for Azriel, who hung behind you like a constant threat even in his finest dress clothing.

Your own dress showed the smallest curve where your child was growing, causing every guest who greeted you and High Lord to pass their congratulations unknowing of the circumstances. “Won't they all shit when they figure out Az put a baby in you first?” You slammed an elbow into Cassian's stomach, smiling at an elderly couple as they held Rhysand's hands, praising him for bringing the city all together to celebrate a Night Court tradition and such a joyous announcement.

“We are just getting some of them okay with the idea of all of us as a mated unit. Let's not cause any heart attacks, Cassian.” He nodded to your statement and held a water glass to your mouth.

“Going to be a long night, sweetheart. Let's stay hydrated.”

The music switched to a soft violin based turn, one you had composed as Starfall began. Azriel held you close as everyone's attention turned to the sky, including yours. All three of your mates had their eyes locked on you, soft smiles on their faces as they watched the childlike wonder wash over you despite years of witnessing the event. “Always so beautiful.”

“Of course you are,” Azriel whispered. “And you will look even more beautiful when you begin to show more.”

“I can't wait,” Rhysand's hand went to that small bump, “To hold our babe.”

Cassian's hand rested on Rhysand. “Our baby. The first of many.”

“We would toast you, darling, but no champagne for you,” Rhysand handed a glass to Cass and Az, then water to you. “Darling?”

“To the stars who listen,” your voice broke as tears of joy came.

“And the dreams that are answered,” they all echoed.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

#acotar #poly!batboys #poly!acotar #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly!acotarweek 2024 d3 #poly!batboys x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #poly!acotar x reader #polyamorous visibility #consensual non monogamy

[azsazz]

Lavender Haze

Rhysand x Rhysand's Sister's Best Friend/Virgin!Reader

Summary: Having a crush on your best friends older brother isn't ideal. Especially when he has one back.

Warnings: Flirting, sexual taunting and begging.

Word Count: 3,065

Belongs to the timeline and predates Clandestine Love

_________________________________________

“Where’s Ara?” you ask your dinner mate as Einar places a steaming dish before you. The savory scents of the herbs he used on the fresh meat fill your senses, and your mouth waters at its deliciousness. Vegetables swim in a thick cream sauce that looks all too delectable, and the mound of cut potatoes doused in flavor has your jaw tingling. You simply cannot wait to dig in, only able to keep yourself from diving straight into your dinner as the family cook replenishes your half drank glass of sparkling fae wine. “Thank you, Einar.”

The chef dips his head in response then spins on his heel, quickly leaving the room. A bite of guilt pinches your stomach as you watch the green-skinned, normally bright-eyed fae stalk back to the kitchen to prepare dessert. It’s not like Rhysand is that much like his father. While his personality and aura tend to lean to the more arrogant side, it’s usually attributed to the fact that he is a young, confident male, eager to bask in all of the indulgences son of the High Lord is offered.

Said male sita across from you, pinning you to your seat with searing violet eyes. His spine is rigid and his fingers are curled tightly around his utensils as he watches your gaze follow the chef scurrying from the room.

He wants to fire him, no matter how delicious his food is.

Rhysand doesn’t have a right to feel this way. He doesn’t like the rage that coils his stomach, that lights his bones on fire when your soft eyes meet those of any other male in the court. Ever since you’d worked up the courage to kiss him all those months ago, it had ignited something inside of him even he couldn’t seem to make sense of. He shouldn’t be feeling this conflicted over his little sister's best friend of all people, but even he couldn’t ignore your otherworldly beauty, the musical laughter he always ached to hear, feel those gorgeous eyes roaming down his body while you thought his attention was elsewhere. 

The following months after that fateful night had been spent in the Illyrian camps, avoiding you. He’d tried occupying his mind with training or drinking with Azriel and Cassian until he couldn’t remember what it felt like to have your lips pressed against his own, your breasts pressed against his chest, and your scent burrowing so deeply into his soul he might never forget it. 

You couldn’t be drowned by any female nor male he fell into bed with since. Rhys, as sick as it might be to admit it, had resorted to imagingin his partners were you when he couldn’t seem to get off. Horrible, he knows, but you’ve planted that seed and his feelings are an overgrown slew of vines, constricting his inner being.

And now you’re here, across from him. And he’s here, alone with you. And Ara is not here like she should be and his mother isn’t here to form a buffer and his father is away doing Mother knows what and Cassian and Azriel aren’t here to tell him how horrible this idea is, or how if he’d only fuck you it would get these feelings out of his system, at least, the former of the two would say.

Rhysand is in a dangerous situation right now.

He forces his body to relax, slumping back in his seat with the vanity only the prince of Night can convey. Masking his face into something a little more open—a little more nice—he stalls, cutting into the meat on his own plate. Blood spurts as he takes his knife to it, and Rhysand has to force himself from imagining it to be a certain chef's blood instead. “Mother whisked her into the city for dinner.”

“So it’s only you and I?” you blush, stabbing a potato with your fork. It has been so long since you’d last seen Rhysand, and it seems the few months he’s been away have made him even more handsome than you remember, even if his skin looks a little paler from the blistering winters in the mountains and the drink he hasn’t let up on since.

“It seems so,” Rhys answers, chewing.

“And no one else,” you murmur, almost breathless as your heart begins to race in your chest at the thought of what you and him could be getting into all alone, if he hadn’t decided to run from you. 

Rhysand quirks a brow, looking down the table as if looking for someone else, and replies, “How did you come to that conclusion?”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Asshole,” under your breath, and Rhys fails to bite back his smirk. Both of you fall silent as you eat, only the sounds of your hammering heart and utensils filling the void in the luxurious dining room. You’re not sure how the family doesn't feel lonely like this, eating at the table built for an army. You can’t even hear Einar shuffling about in the kitchen, no clanging of pans or low curses if he creates something his perfectionist self doesn’t deem a ‘creation of the Gods.’

You can’t help but to glance at Rhysand, drinking in the sight of him. His straight nose, the curve of his cupid’s bow as he places a spoonful of vegetables and cream sauce in his mouth. His thick lashes are dark, so dark it looks like he’s let Ara around him with some of her kohl again. They’re long as well, brushing the apples of his cheeks when he looks down at his plate, and you’re envious of them.

Too long you’ve gone without seeing him. The most dramatic male you’ve ever set your sights on, running from you after you’d finally worked up the courage after months of pining to kiss him. It was after Ara had fallen asleep and you found yourself on the balcony, gazing up at the stars, his company warm and welcoming.

It had been everything to you then, the confidence you felt, the rush of adrenaline as you caught him off guard, the feel of his lips against yours, soft still, even if they were wind-chapped from the long flight. He hadn’t reacted, you hadn’t given him the time to, yanking yourself back just as quickly as you leaned in and running off to Araphel’s room, your mind screaming at you that it had been a horrible idea.

But you couldn’t ignore the emotions spilled between the both of you, the times where his hand had brushed yours or his touch lingered too long when he’d muse your hair, stroking the shell of your ear. You couldn’t ignore the heated looks Rhys shot you every time you spoke to another male, nor the way he always found an excuse to interrupt you, guiding you away from them with a large hand on the small of your back.

And maybe it was your silly little heart for wanting him. For crushing on your best friend's older brother who exudes confidence and can have any female in the court he wants. Any female on the continent, even.

The silence is damning, though, and you wish you could be how you were the night you’d kissed him, sanguine and bright with the idea that this could be your true love's first kiss. Of course, the fleeting press of his lips was enough to solidify many things for you, but you’d been unsure about Rhysand’s feelings on the matter, and by the time you’d found the courage to talk to him about what had happened, he’d already fled back to the mountains.

You’d kissed plenty of males since then, dragging Ara for nights out at Rita’s because Rhysand and his friends always raved about it. A part of you thought that he might walk in and see you in another male's arms, tear you away like the warrior-prince he is, but sadly, it hadn’t happened. 

And you have to say that you’re more than a little confused. He’d been blatantly glaring at Einar while the chef served your food. Had he heard about the kiss you shared with the young chef when Donan hadn’t allowed Araphel permission to go out one night and you spent it with the staff the High Lord kept around the house? It was all for a silly drinking game, but the green-skinned fae’s cheeks had been bright pink after the both of you stumbled back from the pantry, lips bruised and eyes shining bright with liquor. Maybe he had overheard some of the handmaiden's gossipping about it after all these weeks? Or maybe, the darkness always knows.

Now, the both of you are here, alone, staring at each other over the delectable meals prepared by the chef you’ve tasted once before. It hadn’t been anything like the peck you’d shared with Rhysand. In that millisecond of the brushing of your lips your world had shifted, body set alight with shooting stars and setting free the wild butterflies in your stomach. 

He has that glint in his eyes, the same one he always gets when he’s watching you, the one that heats your very core. And as you chew the potatoes in your mouth, you muster that confidence into yourself once more.

You will it into the marrow of your bones, rolling your shoulders as you prepare yourself to get exactly what you want. If there is no one here to interrupt, then the stage is set.

“Whoops,” you feign, allowing a drip of cream sauce to slip off the end of your utensil on the way to your mouth. It lands on the bare skin between the plunging fabric of your dress, and you catch Rhysand tracking the movement as you reach for your napkin to dab at your skin. “Spilled a little.”

Rhysnad hums, “You should be more careful, darling. Wouldn’t want to ruin that pretty dress of yours, now would you?”

“No,” you agree, ever the dream of poised elegance. You pop a vegetable into your mouth, chewing for a moment, before continuing. “I wouldn’t want to ruin my dress at all. But, if it’s meant to be, I can always have another one made.”

In that moment, you know you’ve got him. The stars in his violet eyes wink out as darkness settles in, pinning you to your chair. His look sends a shiver up your spine and you know that he is no longer hungry for the food plated before him.

Rhysand flares his wings a little and bites back a curse. For too long he’s been living at the Illyrian camps. There’s no one here he has to compete with for your attention, no one he needs to show off his wingspan to, though, by the way that your half-lidded eyes trace across the membranous skin of them, perhaps he’ll flare them wide when you’re beneath him.

It’s a line that he hasn’t crossed with you yet, one that he promised himself that he wouldn’t. You’re his little sister’s best friend for Mother’s sake, not just another female simpering after him because of his familial ties. You’re…much more than that, and he shouldn’t be thinking about crawling across this fucking table and licking that cream off of your chest and burying his head between your breasts.

“Meant to be,” he echoes, and you hum, tilting your head back with the motion. The exposed skin of your neck calls to him, even more so when you swipe a finger, capturing the sauce and popping it into your mouth to suck on. Your cheeks hollow exaggeratedly, and his cock strains painfully in his pants. He growls your name, a tenor of darkness that curls through your body like the icey patches of snow on the way into the city.

“What was that Rhys?” you ask, batting your eyelashes now. The meal in front of you is long forgotten, your hunger for this male insatiable. The way Rhysand makes you feel, despite only sharing a whisper of a kiss, well, you think you could be mates someday. “Did you need something?”

“I need you to stop doing that before I come over there and make you stop myself.”

You moan a little, legs falling wide under the table. “I think I might like that, though.” 

Rhysand’s nostrils flare as he drinks in the scent of your arousal, thick between your thighs.

“You’re supposed to be a Lady, darling. Who taught you to speak like that?” he purrs, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against the table. You know that he’s only doing it to try and dispel the tension leaking from his body. You can scent it in the air, the raw, heady smell of him that threatens to send you right to your knees.

“You,” you moan in response. You can feel him creeping into your mind, watching. Waiting.

“And you always listen to your superiors, don’t you, darling?”

“Yes,” you hiss, squirming in your seat as those black claws of his rake gently across your mind. Your fingers curl around the arms of your chair, your spine arching at the soft caress. “Rhys, please…I need you to touch me.” 

It’s a simple request, one he’s always indulged you in.

In a moment he’s gone from his chair only to appear behind you, winnowing far faster than stalking around the edge of the table to reach your seat.

He looms over you like a touch of darkness crowding you in, and you revel in it. The hue of his eyes is a dangerous violet, set with lightning striking in the distance instead of stars. It lights you up, your breath turning faster, the beating of your heart thunderous in the silence of the dining room. 

You can see the war in his eyes when you tilt your head back, resting it on the back of your chair. You press your breasts out a little, and watch with rapt attention as his eyes flicker down the front of your dress before he rips them away, the line of his mouth tightening at your hidden tease of a smile.

In your head, late at night, you’ve touched him; a hand around his silky, long cock, mouth pressed to his desperately, too. He’s tasted your slick on his tongue, reveled in it, hardly able to hold himself back from crawling up your body and fucking you how he wanted.

But you’ve never had sex before, and as much as you want to, as much as you’ve tried, Rhysand has been holding back.

Maybe it’s because he’s nervous to cross that line with you. You’re his little sisters best friend for fucks sake, and he’s going to be High Lord someday. Sure, he’s slowly making his way through the camp girls, trying not to grunt your name when he fucks into them, because you’re never far from his mind. 

Maybe it’s because he’s scared, if his sister or father ever found out. Araphel might be happy for the both of you. It’s a thought he has less often than the opposite, if she’s upset that he’s stealing one of her only true friends, and he doesn’t want that. 

Maybe he’s afraid he won’t be able to hold himself back.

Your name is a growl on his lips. A warning, one you don’t have it in you to heed. So you go with your next best idea, taunting.

“I guess I’ll have to drag Ara down to the city when she gets back then,” you say with a sad sigh. You pick up your fork and force your eyes from Rhysand’s burning ones. You shrug a little, spearing vegetables with your fork. “Fuck whatever male I come across there.”

Rhysand is hardly able to hold himself back from baring his teeth. He won’t allow that, ever.

You can feel the tension roiling in his body as he stands at your back, his food long forgotten. You’re not faring much better with the ache pulsing between your legs and the dinner that’s turned to mush in your mouth. 

“I’ll turn any male that touches you to mist.”

“Are you planning on doing that to yourself, too?” you quirk a brow as you glance his way, faking your disinterest despite the way that your core goes molten at his words. 

Rhysands eyes darken in response, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

Your words are working, you can see it in the way that he holds himself back, body nearly shaking at every thought you’re planting in his mind. You know he’s on the verge of cracking, that he wants this just as badly as you do, so you continue.

“What if I told you that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. Would you fuck me then, Rhysand?” 

“What?” His voice takes on a dark tone, the stars winking out from his eyes.

“If I told you that chef Einar was the one to do it, to bend me over his worktop and fuck me, what would you say then, Rhys?” 

“I’d say you’re a liar. And that I’ll kill him either way.”

“If I spread my legs for him just like this,” you continue, leaning back in your seat and opening your thighs wide. His fingers ball into fists but he doesn’t move from his spot, still planted behind you, trying his best to ignore the way your scent hits him like a sword to the gut. “And let his hands roam down my body just like this—” You startle at the loud sound coming from the kitchen, pots falling to the floor in succession. It makes your hands that you’re dragging down your body falter, and before you can continue, your wrists are pinned in Rhysand’s harsh grip, his breath heavy against your throat.

“You should be very, very careful about what you’re going to say next, darling,” his growl sends your bones rattling, shivers wracking your spine. You wish it weren’t the harsh wood at your back but instead his warm body, holding you tight. 

“I want you to fuck me, Rhys,” you gasp, and it sounds like a desperate mewl. “I need you to fuck me.” 

Rhysand’s mouth is a whisper against your skin, a brand of night.

“If I’m going to fuck you, darling,” he purrs and your insides melt. “Everyone is going to know it.”

#rhysand x reader #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #rhys x reader #rhysand #rhys acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 2

Summary - Feyre learns about Azriel and Y/N's story as she and Rhysand make their way to the prison

Warnings/Other Notes - Blood, injury, and physical abuse mentioned in this part. None of it graphic but please proceed with caution; 1.3k words; Again, these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF.

Part One

✨💫

Even days after the dinner, Feyre still had questions about Rhysand and his Inner Circle. Specifically questions about the spymaster, about the emissary. What was Azriel’s story? What was Y/N’s story? What were those burns from? If Y/N was Illyrian, why did she still have her wings? And the shadows…? Feyre shuddered at the thought. She fell asleep repeating those questions in the back of her mind.

The following morning, Feyre jolted awake to find Amren standing at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her temples as Amren made some comment about vomiting her guts up before throwing something onto the bed. “That got me out of prison. You wear it in––they can’t keep you.”

Feyre didn’t so much as move.

Amren leaned forward slightly. “Let me be very clear. This is not some toy. I do not give it lightly, but I’ll allow you to have it while you go to the prison and do what must be done. When you are finished,” Amren took a breath, “return it or suffer the very unpleasant consequences.” Amren was gone the moment Feyre had her fingers against the cool metal.

Feyre quickly dressed for her visit with Rhys to the prison. The questions still mingled in the back of Feyre’s mind, but the prospect of the prisoner dulled the curiosity.

“What?” Feyre asked when she noticed the High Lord looking at the amulet around her neck for the tenth time.

“She gave you that amulet,” Rhys stated.

“It’s serious, I suppose,” Feyre responded. “I, well, the risk––”

“You don’t want to say something you don’t want the others hearing,” Rhysand warned. “Those inmates have nothing to do but listen through the earth for information to trade for food or sex or even some air.”

Feyre didn’t respond as he offered his hand to her to help with a particular steep bit of rock. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” Feyre said as she took Rhysand’s hand. She referred to the inability to get out of bed after seeing the prison for the first time.

The High Lord shook his head. “There is nothing to be sorry about, Feyre. You are here now. And don’t worry.” He winked. “Your pay won’t be docked.”

They continued their climb until the upper face of the mountain was a wall before the pair. Below, Feyre and Rhysand could see the flow of the grass. Feyre’s gaze quickly shifted to Rhys when he pulled out a sword. He noted the look on Feyre’s face.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” he said.

“I’ve just never seen you with a weapon before,” Feyre responded.

“Cassian would laugh until he couldn’t talk if he heard that. Then make me spar with him.”

“Could you beat him?” Feyre asked. “Cassian I mean.”

“Hand-to-hand combat? Certainly not.” Feyre noticed the lack of pride and arrogance in Rhys’s tone. “He wouldn’t win easily, but he would win. He is the best warrior I’ve ever met, ever. The reason I’ve entrusted him to lead my armies.”

There were a few short moments of silence as Feyre thought. The other two. Azriel and Y/N. “Azriel, his hands,” Feyre questioned. “The scars, I mean. How did he get them?”

Rhys’s face darkened, a flicker of pain in his eyes as silence stretched for a moment. “His father, a lord, had two legitimate sons who were both older than Azriel. Spoiled. Cruel. Learned traits from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the first eleven years of his life, he lived under his father’s keep. The lord’s wife saw to it that Azriel was kept in a cell with no window or light. They let him out for an hour every day…only let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He was not allowed to train, fly, or doing anything else his Illyrian instincts screamed at him to do.” 

Another pause and Rhys’s voice softened. “When Azriel was eight, his brothers thought it would be fun if they mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing oil and…and fire. His father’s warriors heard his screams, but they found him too late. He was left with the scars from the burns.”

The image of Y/N gently kissing Azriel’s hand when she had met everyone flashed through Feyre’s mind, the action having a whole new meaning to her. But Y/N. She said she was Illyrian, but she also said Illyrians have a habit of ridding females of their wings. “And Y/N, her wings.” Feyre searched for the right words for a moment. “She is Illyrian, but still has her wings?”

The most subtle sigh escaped Rhys. “She is, she does. Her story is intimately tied with Azriel’s. She was born to an Illyrian family, who trained her from a young age to attract the attention of males to be able to produce another generation of warriors. When they were both eight, a few months before Azriel’s hands were burned, she was out and about when he was having his allotted time with his mother. His shadows took it upon themselves to go and say hello to the young girl. In hindsight, they likely realized the connection between Azriel and Y/N before either of them even considered it. Y/N interacted with his shadows before they returned to their master, whispering what she had shared with them.”

The image of the his shadows weaving through the edges of Y/N’s hair came into her mind’s eye.

“At some point his shadows starting sharing secrets about Azriel to Y/N. The shadows became a lifeline for the both of them, using his shadows to share messages with each other. She was the one to keep him company during those last three years of confinement. Despite there being no windows or light, the shadows found a way. When he was brought to the training camp where Cassian and I were, I suspect their messages to each other continued. Soon after my mother took Cassian and Azriel under her care too, Azriel’s shadows informed him that Y/N was in distress, in danger during the night. He didn’t have to think twice, he was flying out of our home in an instant.” Rhys shuddered at the next thought, the image of Y/N, bloodied and injured in Azriel’s arms that was long since buried came rising to the surface. “Azriel walked in to see her father in the beginning moments of cutting her wings up, to permanently destroy them. It wasn’t enough for her father to just clip them.”    

The thought setting a nauseating feeling into the pit of Feyre’s stomach.    

“I suspect that if Y/N was not so badly injured, Azriel might have had a go at her father, maybe even tried to kill him. My mother took her in too and by miracle saved Y/N’s wings. Azriel helped her learn to fly again after she healed. One of his shadows was always with her if he couldn’t be with Y/N himself. He taught her to how to defend herself. He adopted the name Y/N after she declared she did not want the name her father had given her. Y/N after the name of a bakery in Velaris she adored. Their mating bond snapped about a year later. Neither of them hesitated to accept it. During the war they rarely saw each other, using the bond to communicate, to ensure the other was alive. She managed a few short, brief meetings. Azriel is my spymaster because he can infiltrate courts undetected, gather information, keep tabs on our allies and enemies. Y/N is my emissary because her ability to take the information Azriel has gathered and use that charm she has to gather allies is, invaluable.”   

The truth that Rhys would not share, at least not yet, was Azriel and Y/N’s story was the one that gave him an inkling of hope with Feyre. Both Azriel and Y/N were scarred, beaten down by the world, torn apart, but they always found their way to back to each other. All Rhysand could do was hope that the same would eventually be true for himself and Feyre.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre #feyre x rhysand #cassian #3rd person pov

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 1. ~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: Sad Az. Angst

Azriel was bored.

It had only been a week since Rhys had sent him to stay in a flat he had borrowed from Helion in the Day Court with the excuse that he had worked so hard all these years and deserved to take a break.

Azriel saw right through him. It wasn’t long ago that Rhys had pulled him aside and banned him from seeing Elain. And so Rhysand wasn’t too pleased when barely a month later he had caught Azriel and Elain on a walk together along the streets of Velaris. Always one to overreact, it was safe to say that Rhys wasn’t too happy and a week later he had taken Azriel to the Day Court, walked him into the flat he’s currently been sulking in for the past few days and winnowed away.

Azriel wasn’t a fool, he knew Rhys had asked Helion to keep an eye on him during his stay, his shadows reporting back to him that people were watching the flat, no doubt reporting back that he hadn’t left. That he hadn’t even opened the blinds. Selfishly, Azriel hoped they reported his lack of movement to Rhys. He hoped his brother would take pity on him, forget his anger and let him come back home. He would do his best to stay away from Elain, he just wanted out of this damn court. He just wanted to go home.

It wasn’t until another week had passed that Azriel had come to the grim realisation that Rhys wasn’t coming. He was stuck here for the indefinite future.

The time finally came when Azriel would have to leave the flat. The cupboards which were filled with food by Rhys upon his arrival had run bare and after suffering for two days without food as he sulked in his bed, his stomach was now cramping with hunger. Reluctantly, Azriel opened the door and left the flat. Immediately shooting his hand up to cover his eyes as the sun blinded him, causing his head to pound at the change from the sullen darkness of the flat to the bright skies that waited for him outside.

Grumbling at the situation, Azriel started to make his way down the street hoping it wouldn’t take long to find somewhere where he could purchase some food before heading back to the flat to wallow in his self pity some more. Unfortunately the Mother had other plans.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes”

Azriel whipped his head around at the sound of the annoyingly cheerful voice directed at him. He locked eyes with a young woman who was sat on the floor outside the flat building, book propped open on her lap as she leant her back against the wall and looked up at him, a wide smile adorning her lips. Cursing his shadows for not noticing someone watching him, Azriel turned back around without replying, continuing on his way and praying that the woman would stay where she was and not bother him.

But of course his run of bad luck continued as she put her book away into the bag by her side, stood up and dusted herself off before running to catch up with his long strides. “I was beginning to think you’d never leave” she continued, looking up at him now she had caught up to his side, smile still plastered on her face as if they were old friends. His shadows slowly inched towards her before Azriel subconsciously tugged them back to him. Again, Azriel didn’t respond, hoping that if he didn’t talk she would get the hint and leave him alone. But that didn’t stop the woman who was clearly intent on making his life a living hell, “so why did you leave today? Finally got bored of sitting around doing nothing?”

He was bored, but Azriel wasn’t prepared to tell this stranger that. It was obvious she wasn’t going to leave him alone any time soon so Azriel stopped in his tracks and turned to her, a deep scowl covering his face at the realisation she was waiting for him and had probably been the person he felt watching the flat the past few weeks. His scowl didn’t phase this unknown woman, she was slightly panting from the pace of keeping up with him but still annoyingly grinning up at him, the smell of vanilla overwhelming his senses as she walked alongside him. “What is this? Did Helion send you? Because if so get lost and tell him that I don’t need his lackeys following me around when I’m perfectly capable of going around on my own” he spat, different from his usually deadly calm demeanour but after two weeks of solitude and thoughts swimming with anger over the situation he was forced into, Azriel didn’t care about pleasantries and was looking for something or someone to take his anger out on.

His rude behaviour didn’t even phase the stranger before him, in fact Azriel could have sworn he saw her smile twitch a little bit wider. Now he was definitely certain that she’s positively insane. “Yes Helion sent me, but only because Rhysand asked him to. He was worried about -“

Azriel cut her off, “Well you can tell Rhysand that I’m fine, I don’t need your help” and with that he resumed his fast-paced walking once again trying to get away from her. Thankfully, she didn’t follow him this time. Instead she stayed standing where he had left her and called out, “the markets the other way!” He whipped round, cheeks heating with embarrassment at having this pointed out to him. “Just thought you should know” she grinned before nodding her head in the other direction, towards where the market must be, “shall we?”

He huffed out in frustration but admitted defeat, the quicker he got to the market and got food, the sooner he could get away from this pestering woman and go back to the soothing solitude of his flat. Content with his decision the lady smiled and fell into step with him, humming to fill the void of uncomfortable silence. Azriel clenched his jaw - couldn’t this woman stay silent for a minute?

As if his day couldn’t get even worse, Azriels shadows began to slowly dance around him as if enchanted by the melody she was producing. He was struggling to reel them in and his jaw clenched even harder at this unfortunate situation. If the lady had noticed, she doesn’t say anything or let on that she’s uncomfortable, continuing to him to herself as she skipped along.

Finally, as the street turns, Azriel can see the market stalls and some of the tension in his body is eased as he knows he’s one step closer to getting home. Not home. Back to the flat.

The two of them approached the stalls, Azriel looking over the food, some of which he hasn’t seen before as they don’t have the likes of them in the Night Court. His guide had started enthusiastically talking to the vendor of the stall, clearly they were familiar with each other and so he took the opportunity to silently break away and move away from the stalls, seeking to get away from her, need for food forgotten.

This didn’t go unnoticed though, as she excused herself and trailed after him. “So do you enjoy cooking?” She asked, aiming to break the awkward atmosphere between them and start a conversation.

“Litsen-“ Azriel started but was interrupted by your voice “Y/N”

“What?”

“My name. Y/N. May as well know it if you’re going to yell at me” she teased, lips upturned into a playful smirk as if she was enjoying this. Which only angered Azriel more.

“Listen Y/N. I didn’t ask to be here and I most certainly didn’t ask to be babysat by the likes of you. I’m perfectly capable of getting my own food and finding my own way back.” Azriel noticed Y/N’s confident demeanour wavering and took a deep breath out, satisfied that she would now leave and give him the space he so desperately required. Her face, a picture of sadness as she looked up to Azriel and asked, “and then what will you do?”

He could feel brows furrowing in confusion as he looked down at Y/N, “What?”

“What will you do when you’re back? Surely you can’t expect to just stay alone in your flat all day every day?” He wanted to make an angry retort and comment about how being alone would be miles better than being with her but Azriel was left speechless by this woman who he had never even met, who had the beginnings of silver tears in her eyes at the thought of him being alone in his flat.

Azriel was always used to caring for people , his brothers, Feyre, Elain and even sometimes Nesta but he wasn’t used to receiving care.

“I know it’s not fair. The situation you’re in. But you’re just going to make a shitty situation even worse by locking yourself up. Aren’t there any hobbies you could do while you’re here? Isn’t there anything you enjoy doing?”

Azriel could feel the anger wash away from him as shock flooded in. Did he have hobbies? It had been a long time since he had time to do anything he wanted. He wasn’t even sure what he liked to do. That’s when his thoughts turned defensive, shadows pulling tight against him to provide a sense of protection. Why was he letting these words from someone he only met a little under an hour ago get under his skin?

“I train” he tried to sound convincing, perhaps more so trying to convince himself than Y/N. Training was a hobby right? He’s done it everyday for hundreds of years… well up until he got sent here and then he hasn’t been doing a right lot of anything.

Y/N tilted her head in thought, “Do you enjoy training?”

Again, her questions had Azriel thinking harder than he had in days. Did he enjoy it? He liked the routine it brought and the strength it made him feel. But the more he dwells on it the more self conscious he becomes that he’s never done a lot of anything else.

“I… guess I do,” Azriel was unsure now. Why was he even entertaining this conversation. He knew if he really wanted to he could leave. Leave Y/N standing there and go back to his dark little piece of the Day Court. Heck he could even use his shadows and travel back to the Night Court, but he was sure his arrival wouldn’t be appreciated by Rhysand and he really didn’t want to risk angering his brother even further. No. Azriel was well and truly stuck here until his brother decided otherwise.

Sensing his unease, Y/N donned a soothing smile. Oddly enough it calmed Azriel and he found his shadows, that had started swirling around him at his distress, start to calmly sway. Even more unusual than the fact Azriel found comfort in this woman’s smile, was the lack of pity in her eyes. Her eyes that he found himself gazing into for some form of stability, some indicator that told him he wasn’t really alone in this court until he had been staring to long that he could feel the suffocating tension in the air.

“Well…” Y/N started, Azriel tried not to flinch as she sliced through the tension, not letting on whether she felt it too, “you may be here a while. I don’t see why you should hide away and force yourself to suffer. Why don’t you take the time to pick up some new hobbies?” The thought she voiced brought a dazzling grin to her face as if she couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than the thought of Azriel doing something new.

The suggestion made Azriel scoff.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Like…hiking! That’s similar to training right? Or you could try baking. Or art is meant to be very therapeutic…ooh you could paint!…”

Y/N trailed off looking to Azriel who was stood with his brow raised as if he couldn’t think of anything worse than all the things she had suggested. Fear crept into him as he kept staring at her wide grin, as if she was already picturing him in an apron, decorating cakes in his kitchen. Wanting to step away from this situation and melt into his shadows Azriel just stood in silence.

“Rhysand wouldn’t want you to do nothing”

And that was when something snapped in Azriel. Pure rage at the thought of Rhysand feeling anything other than contentment at the suffering he has forced Azriel to enjoy. Y/N clearly realising she said the wrong thing as her smile wavers and she took a step back to avoid his shadows which were amassing around him, stammering apologies of how she was just trying to be helpful.

“Well don’t,” Azriel stated, void of emotions, “I don’t need your help and I don’t want it” and with that he took off, striding away and leaving Y/N behind who finally had the sense not to follow him. He made it back to his flat, not even caring that he didn’t grab the food he had gone out for and collapsed into bed.

His emotions hit him in powerful waves, the abandonment he felt from his friends, his brothers, sending shockwaves to his heart. Alone in his flat, tears fell down his face. Was this truly what he deserved for just trying to get close to Elain? To help her feel more settled into the night court with the rest of the inner circle, with him?

Azriel cried and cried until exhaustion overwhelmed him and he had no other option than to let sleep take over him. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when he was awoken by a soft knocking at the door. Anger coursed through him again at the thought of having to talk to you on the other side of the door. At the thought you may have been doing your job, watching him, reporting his tears and his begging to go home to Helion so he could report to Rhysand. He flung the door open, prepared to curse you and shout at you.

Only when he did open the door he wasn’t greeted by you. There was no one there. He could smell the sweet scent of vanilla in the air but his shadows told him you were long gone. His eyes fell to the floor where there was a basket full of food which he grabbed and brought inside and closed the door.

He emptied the basket, snacking on an apple from the goods as he did so. And when he reached the bottom, his hands faltered before taking out a simple black sketchbook and a set of pencils that were placed inside. Azriel let out a disgusted sound and tossed them on the floor.

Part 2

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #acotar #fanfic #sarah j maas #x reader #acotar imagine #a court of thorns and roses

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pregnancy (ft. Poly!Mates Bat Boys)

Warnings: none

You’re actually surprised it takes you so long to become pregnant (ya know considering that all three of them just rail into you multiple times a day lol)

When you start feeling like actual shit day in and day out, Rhys had Madja come over to evaluate you

And what do you know! You got a bun in the oven!

Cue your mates happily freaking out that there’s going to be a baby

They don’t even ask or question who the father is in the beginning. It’s too soon to do any paternity tests

Rhysand and Cassian become the nesters; prepping the nursery, hiring a fleet of nannies and guards for the precious heir

There was a dangerous side effect to being pregnant with one of the Bat Boy's babies were the powers it gave you. Hormone induced powers

You were stronger but more cautious around people, even your mates, and easy to snap; all to protect the precious life growing inside you.

Outside of the Inner Circle, no one else knows. Your pregnancy is kept secret for the first few months (though Cass wants to shout from the top of the House of Wind that he’s gonna be a daddy)

This is done mainly because you rue when the lords of the Court of Nightmares find out

The rest of the realm may rejoice, but the Court of Nightmares has always sneered your way and thought of you as a glorified whore

You knew they’d insist immediately on a paternity test. They would not bend the knee to a child that was not of Rhysand’s blood. If the father of your first born happened to be Cassian or Azriel, there could be a fight back

Once news of your pregnancy is released, there was a type of press conference below in the nightmare court

Like all of you predicted, they raise a big stink about paternity

A child of the spy master or the general would not be accepted on the throne

A glimpse of Rhysand's beast form shuts them up. Azriel's shadows aid in emphasizing the massive power they had compared to all of the fae in the room

"Fate destined her as our mate. Whoever the child truly belongs to is inconsequential. Any child birthed from her is worthy of the Night Court throne."

When Azriel isn’t doing work for Rhysand, he is glued to your side or has a shadow following you. He’s especially concerned since he heard talk of murdering you and your unborn baby. A threat like that would not be taken lightly.

All three of your mates love placing their hands on your belly, anticipating a reaction from the baby

Cassian is determined to get the baby to kick for him

I think they would just become puddly, mushy, dads to be.

The Bat Boys wish their respective mothers were alive to share in this joy

Because their big boys, unfortunately that means your baby will be a big one if the size of your tummy was any indication

Midnight snackies provided by the Wraiths without prompting. They know all of your favorite foods

Amren bets the baby belongs to Rhys

Mor thinks its Az

You actually bet it’s Cass’ due to how active the baby is. Constantly kicking you and the funny fact that the baby would REFUSE to kick against Cassian’s hand. Az and Rhys have gotten the baby to kick for them

When the baby has grown large enough inside of you, a paternity test is conducted just for the sake of the Inner Circle's curiosity. You don't want to know the results. Besides, once the baby is born, you'll know.

The dreams you'd been having recently were of a small boy, a mix of features that came from each of your mates. Rhysand's eyes. Cassian's unruly, long hair. Azriel's massive wings that had whisps of shadows clinging to them.

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #acotar fanfic #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar reader fic #acotar reader insert #a court of thorns and roses fanfic #a court of thorns and roses reader insert #a court of thorns and roses x reader #a court of thorns and roses fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #acotar cassian #cassian

[marvelsmylife]

Stay with me

Pairing: Cassian x reader

Plot: After being ignored by you when he arrives back from his mission, Cassian discovers why his absence really effected you so much.

A/n this is part two to Don’t go. I hope you like it. I left the ending open just in case you guys would be interested in a part three where we explore the mating bond between the reader and Cassian. With a little bit(ok a lot) of spice in in there. You guys just let me know.

Part One

Cassian hung his head in shame while Rhysand scolded him for how he left things between the two of you when he left for his mission. “Why would you have such a big argument with your mate before leaving! You completely broke her, and now she refuses to leave her room,” Rhysand was red in the face from yelling at his brother for so long.

“Wait,” Cassian looked up at Rhysand confused: “y/n is my mate?”

“Yes?” Rhysand replied: “Wait, you didn’t know?”

Cassian felt his heart beating fast at Rhysand's question. Of course, he had no idea you were his mate. If he had known he wouldn’t have gone on the mission. “Didn’t you question why she was always by your side?” Rhysand asked: “Why you couldn’t be away from each other for more than a week without being cranky? She is your mate, Cassian, and you obliterated her heart.”

Cassian felt himself becoming enraged at Rhysand’s comment: “If you knew we were mates, then why the fuck did you send me on that fucking mission for four months” Cassian growled at Rhysand: “Azriel was also capable of doing the mission as well!”

“Do not use that tone with me Cassian. Don’t forget that I’m still your high lord,” Rhysand warned: “Azriel was busy doing something else that was equally as important.”

“Then you should have had y/n come with me on the mission!” Cassian exclaimed: “She could have waited in the safe house while I did want you order me to do. That way, I would have been able to see her at the end of each day.”

Rhysand knew Cassian was right, but he didn’t want to admit it: “She would have been lonely in the safe house while you were going to be gone all day. At least here she would have been with her friends,” Rhysand replied, but he knew Cassian wasn’t buying his excuse.

Cassian let out a dry laugh at Rhysand’s excuse: “And yet, she locked herself away from you guys. She hates me now because of you.”

Rhysand slammed his fist on his desk and glared at Cassian: “Do not twist this and blame me for what’s wrong with y/n. YOU were the one she had the argument with, and YOU are the one who left without resolving your argument. Just-“ Rhysand paused: “Just stay away from her for a while. Magda is almost done working on a remedy to snap her out of her state.”

There was nothing but hatred in Cassian’s eyes at Rhysand’s choice of words. Rhysand noticed it too: “Cassian please-” but Cassian stormed out of Rhysand’s office and locked himself away for the rest of the day.

The following day, Cassian tried to talk to you again, but you refused to look at him. He even tried to comfort you through the bond, but you refused to acknowledge him. By the end of the day, he found himself eating his dinner outside your room. He knew it made him seem desperate, but he didn’t care. He swore to himself that he was going to stop at nothing until you forgave him and reverted back to your cheery, happy self.

Every morning, like clockwork, Cassian would enter your room with breakfast for the two of you. While you sat on your bed and ignored the food he brought, Cassian would sit on your floor and talk to you about random things. Mostly about what was happening around the river house, but he would occasionally bring up stories about his childhood he had yet to share with you. 

He didn’t leave to train with the Valkyrie or the other Illyrian warriors until he watched you eat at least a bit of what he brought you. He didn’t want you to go hungry throughout the day.

He would make sure he came back during lunch and dinner. He wanted to know for certain that you weren't skipping a meal and ate at the hours you were supposed to. Of course, Devlon and Rhysand were angry that Cassian was leaving in the middle of either training the Illyrian warriors or the Valkyrie just to check up on you, but Cassian did not care. “She’s my mate. I have to make sure she is ok and being well taken care of,” Cassian argued every time they would scold him for leaving.

Another thing Cassian decided to do since coming back was to make sure he was by your side when you had night terrors. Since you still suffered from them, Cassian always sprinted to your side and comforted you. 

As much as it pained him to hear your screams of terror, a part of him was happy that it was his name you were calling. It gave him hope that you might still want him in your life. 

His protective mate side always came out whenever one of your friends tried to enter your room to comfort you. In his words, She’s my mate. I will be the one comforting her, not you. Your friends would back off but would watch the two of you cautiously as he held you in his arms and repeatedly kissed the top of your head. “It’s ok, I got you. I’m not leaving you,” Cassian would reassure you.

It wasn’t until one particular night that Cassian realized his persistence finally paid off. You were screaming Cassian’s name in your sleep like you always did, and Cassian was by your side, calming you down. Once he knew you were calm, he stood up to leave like he always did when you decided to reach out for him: “Cassian, Please stay with me,” you begged.

You didn’t have to ask him twice. Cassian was under your covers and wrapped his arms around you: “I’m not going anywhere,” Cassian whispered.

Tears started falling down your face at Cassian’s words, and held him as tight as you could.

When morning came, you found yourself lying on top of Cassian. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he slept peacefully below you, and for the first time in months, you smiled at him. “There’s that smile I’ve missed so much,” Cassian mumbled as his eyes fluttered open and sent you a playful smile when you tried to hide your smile: “Don’t go getting shy on me. Let me see that pretty smile of yours.”

You tried to get off of Cassian but failed when Cassian held you in place and stared up at you with love in his eyes. “I truly am sorry for how we parted when I went on that four-month-long mission.” Your smile faded at Cassian’s words: “I should have gone to you to apologize before I left. Fuck, I would have asked Rhysand to ask someone else to go on the mission if I would have known we were mates.”

“So you know?” you asked, resting your chin on his bare chest.

“Yes,” Cassian replied while caressing your cheek: “Rhysand told me the day I came back, and I’m a fool for not realizing it sooner. I mean the signs were all there, but didn’t see them until they were pointing out to me. Again, I’m sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused you. It wasn’t my intention. Please give me a chance to prove I’ll be a good mate to you. That I’ll always put you first.”

You were terrified at the thought of letting Cassian back in your life, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss being around him like you used to. Granted, you were still spending time with him, but it was against your wishes, and you were in a zombie-like state. But laying in bed, laying on top of him felt right. You felt complete: “Please don’t make me regret this,” you whispered before you leaned in and kissed Cassian.

Cassian did not hesitate and kissed you back. His hands resting comfortably on your ass and earned a whimper from you.

Cassian was ready to have his way with you when your bedroom door swung open, and Feyre, along with Elain and Mor, wandered into your room: “y/n, Madja finally finished the- oh no,” All three females covered their eyes when they realized they walked in on an intimate moment. “Mother above, I’m sorry. We’ll- we’re leaving,” Elain shrieked and ran out of the room with Feyre and Mor following closely behind. You could faintly hear Mor announce that you didn’t need the tonic Madja had created because you and Cassian were kissing in your room.

You started laughing and hid your face into Cassian’s neck: “I can't believe they saw that.”

“It’s ok,” Cassian tried to comfort you: “They’ve seen worse things than us kissing. We’ve walked in on Azriel doing the kinkiest shit throughout the years.“ 

Somehow, that made you feel better and got you to look Cassian in the eye: “I was serious. Please don’t make me regret giving you a second chance.”

“I promise you won’t regret it. I love you too much to ever put you through that again,” Cassian promised and held his breath, waiting for your reaction to him saying he loved you.

To Cassian's delight, you said it without hesitation: ”Please say it again, I need to hear you say you love again.” Cassian begged and started leaving kisses all over your neck and jaw.

“I love you,” you repeated until you felt Cassian’s lips against yours and proceeded to show you how grateful he was that you gave him a second chance.

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

[thelov3lybookworm]

Tolerate It (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Everyting will be okay.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: shes a lil small, but shes here hehe

(also creds to @mybestfriendmademe for giving me the idea for the part about fights and silence 🥹😚)

enjoy!

Azriel had never been given the love a child should have received, and maybe that was the reason he thought himself undeserving of it.

Maybe it was his ugly hands and the way he knew that those hands would taint the beautiful, pure skin of his mate.

Whatever it was, he knew he had fucked up when he returned home to find the house empty, the usual warmth and happy aura that he had gotten used to being gone, the house now back to the desolate place it had been before she came along to light it up.

Azriel had realised how much of an ass he'd been to his mate the moment he left, and then decided that he would apologise and explain his behaviour when he returned home that night.

But then the house was empty, and the whole place void of the things that made him want to call it home, so Azriel had simply sighed, knowing he was at fault as he turned and flew to the river house.

Of course, his sister in law had glared holes into his back the entire time he had been begging Rhys to disclose Y/n's location, and even Rhys looked disgusted with his brother.

Defeated, Azriel knew she would not be found unless she wanted to be, so he decided to return and wait it out.

Just before he left the River house, he ordered his shadows to go search the whole of Velaris for Y/n.

"Leave her alone. Let her think this through. You fucked up brother, now let her decide if she wants to forgive you."

Azriel ignored Rhysand, taking off towards the home he used to share with her, now nothing but four walls and a roof to him.

He knew he fucked up, he didn't need anyone to tell him that.

But still, no one left him be. No one let him wallow in his self hatred and pity.

They made it worse by fucking caring for him.

Cassian would visit Azriel, yell and fight, but then leave him food to eat because Azriel was so busy beating himself up over his actions that he had forgotten to eat anything.

Nesta would visit, starting to clean around the house without a word, and when Azriel would try to stop her, she would just glare at him and say the same few words. She did not like untidiness. I'm doing it for her.

Rhys had also stopped sending Azriel on missions, so that didn't help in any way considering Azriel had nothing to occupy his time with, ensuring him feeling guilty all the damn time.

Her silence made him curse himself more. Being an Illyrian, he was used to fights and arguments, but he wasn't used to being ignored. You either fought it out, or you killed in the camps. There was no other choice.

The quiet was too loud for Azriel, to the point he was convinced he was going mad.

It had been almost a week of him either staring up at his ceiling, wanting to just die, or bawling his eyes out in the bathtub, because then no one would see the tears that escaped his eyes.

Once again, Azriel could not help but think of how if he had just opened up to Y/n, let himself be vulnerable, cried in front of her as he told her of everything he had been through, he wouldn't have had to wipe his tears by himself.

Because then she would have wiped his tears for him, held him through the worst of nights, and kissed his sadness away.

But alas, he just had to continue being his thick skulled bastard self.

As he now stared at the half eaten apple Feyre had shoved into his hand when she stopped by his house on her way to the art studio, his heart stopped.

No. Some of us must stay back with him.

It doesn't matter. He will cry anyway. We must go to her.

She doesn't need all of us right now.

His head whipped to where a couple of his shadows hovered nearby, his eyes wide, breath hitched in his throat.

The apple tumbled from his slack grip.

"What..."

The shadows froze, then frantically hurried away, slipping through the space under the door, the couch, the window.

And Azriel could do nothing but sit back, a broken breath escaping him at the realisation that the shadows had known all along where she had been, but had kept the knowledge from him.

They were, after all, their own being, not to be commanded but placated.

After long moments of silence, Azriel got up from the couch and slid to his knees, his head hung low in defeat.

Please, he begged.

Please.

A startled gasp jolted Azriel from the trance he'd been in, and he raised his head to find himself staring into the eyes of his beloved, the eyes he had tried so hard not to become familiar with in case she saw the truth one day, realising he did not deserve her.

Azriel stared, and stared.

And continued staring until she spoke up.

"Az- what are you doing here?"

Azriel blinked, feeling something- presumably a tear- escape his eye as he glanced around. "I... I don't-"

His shadows hissed at him before he could continue, and he paused.

"I wanted to apologise."

Her eyes, that were hard until now, softened. Whether it was at the sound of his broken voice, the state of his being, or the tears streaming down his face without him realising, he didn't know.

And he didn't care as he took in her form, clad in an oversized shirt- his shirt- and nothing else, her hair unbound and messy, the soft skin of her legs on full display for him.

Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers, where tears now accumulated.

"Oh Az." She mumbled, stepping forward towards his kneeling, hunched form.

"Forgive me my love. I love you, I love you so so much, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

Azriel's chest heaved as he reached his hands out, trying to grab at Y/n's shirt, but she walked forward without any prompting. Mirroring his position, she knelt in front of him, tugging him into her chest as his hands scrambled to hold her back, panicked as if she was going to vanish any moment.

It was getting harder to take a breath, tears constantly streaming down his face, any and all air he could take into his lungs escaping in startling gasps, emptying his body, lightening his head-

"Shh, take a deep breath with me."

It was nearly impossible, but he tried. Opening and closing his mouth, trying to get his lungs to work, expanding his chest voluntarily in hopes it would help.

When that didn't work, he shoved his head into the stretch of skin connecting her neck to her collarbone, letting himself drown in the unique scent of his mate.

Finally, his lungs started working again, if only to have her scent dominate all his other senses.

"It's okay, you're okay." She was still mumbling, her body so warm and welcoming as she remained wrapped around him, comforting his cold self.

"It's not." He whispered back, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm-"

"Sorry, I know." She rubbed her hand down his back. "And I am sorry too, for leaving instead of talking it out. But now, I'm ready. I'm sure we can work things out, right?"

He nodded frantically, pulling back to show her how sincere he was being, his head tilted back to look her in the eye. She smiled at him softly, brushing his hair back from his face, quiet understanding on her face.

"It will all be okay."

It will be.

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend @stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh @st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium @fandomarchiveilyd

Tolerate it taglist: @anuttellaa @willowpains @blackgirlmagicforever @isa1b2h3 @helloevilmuffins @bunnyredgirl @hellsenthero @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @fxckmiup @honeybee54321 @nahimgoodmom @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @sweetcarolina-24 @misskennygirl @macel625 @justyouraveragekleemain @its-sam-allgood

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fic #acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #mating bond #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x you

[assassinsblade]

In the Blood

Eris has been subjected to Beron's physical punishments his entire life. But now a new form of punishment forces him to live through his nightmares, and the heir to the Autumn Court finds himself fearing more than just a punch to the jaw: you.

WC: 4k

Warnings: Oof, we've got a lot. Blood, violence, injuries, death, gore, angst, suicidal thoughts, and domestic abuse.

Eris stared at you from across the table, his amber eyes alight with fire. It was not a look that held contempt or hate but instead one of observation, as if you were an animal he was enjoying learning about. You tried to tamper down the nerves such a look ignited in your chest, instead averting your guys to your high lord.

Rhys spoke with a calming voice. "We wished to meet with the Autumn Court to discuss the threat of Koschei."

Rhysand was no fool. He knew of Beron's misdeeds—of the way the man schemed in his own court, swearing loyalty to those wreaking havoc on Prythian. And the high lord eyed the ruler of Autumn, ready to track each and every one of his lies.

"This is not a threat the Night Court takes lightly. We do not wish to have another war like Hybern, so we want to be proactive. Have you seen what could be coming to our lands, what destruction is threatened?"

Beron leaned back in his chair arrogantly. "I've seen some."

"Then you know that we should have allies to ensure Koschei does not infiltrate our courts. I assume you would like to keep the Autumn Court safe, no?"

Beron grunted. Eris tensed at the sound, as if he were holding himself back from reacting, from responding to Rhysand's question himself.

"The Autumn Court is strong enough to defend itself," Beron finally responded.

A slow smile grew on Rhys' face, and you couldn't help the thrill that went through you as you watched your friend in his element. Power drifted off of him in waves, daring Beron to deny him. Violet eyes gleamed with confidence. "I think we know by now that is not always true."

Sneering, Beron pounced forward, slamming his palms onto the table. You flinched at the sudden movement, and you caught Eris' body slanting toward you out of the corner of your eye. You willed your rapid heartbeat to slow, reminding yourself of the reassuring presence of both Cassian and Azriel behind you.

"The Autumn Court does not need help from bastards like the lot of you."

You sensed Eris swallow at his father's words. A hesitant clearing of his throat followed, but his voice was surprisingly confident when he spoke. "Father, perhaps we should consider their offer. The Autumn Court can only serve you as long as there is an Autumn Court and High Lord to serve."

"You will not speak out of turn, boy."

The booming voice had you tensing once again, and the Illyrians behind you stepped closer on instinct, hands resting on their weapons. Eris stayed unnaturally still in his own chair. The previous fire in his eyes smoldering as if he did not regret speaking up but knew it was a poor decision nonetheless. You tried to remain expressionless despite the tension in the room.

It was difficult when you couldn't stop wondering how Eris fared in his own court. When he had tried to help and been immediately scolded.

You thought of that moment hours later as you sat at the dinner table in the House of Wind. How Eris had tensed as if preparing for a blow of some sort. How his eyes burned out, looking toward the future. How he had not spoken again for the rest of the meeting, only lifting his eyes to your own in small moments of quiet.

As you picked up your fork and pushed your food around your plate, you fought the thoughts of the auburn haired male away, wondering why he seemed to keep seeping his way in.

Eris knew when his father had come in with a witch that his punishment would be worse than normal. He had already taken ten lashings for "siding with the enemy" during the meeting with the Night Court, and as he prepared to be released to go tend to his wounds in the privacy of his chambers, his father had escorted an Autumn Court witch into the room.

Beron had claimed he would learn faster with a mental punishment to pair. He had claimed Eris would bite his tongue the next time he thought about questioning his High Lord. That the next time a word went to leave his mouth, he would remember his time in this room, of the nightmares that plagued him.

Eris hadn't understood what his father had meant. Not until the witch was chanting and his head was throbbing in pain.

Then his vision was gone and he was standing on a beautiful rooftop, stars shining above his head, and the moon bright above the mountains. Velaris, he reminded himself. This was the home of the true Night Court. Your home.

And you were there. Your beautiful eyes twinkling from the night sky and from the joy of being among your friends and family. Your olive colored dress flowed whimsically with each of your movements, and his eyes floated between the fabric and the open skin revealing itself in the slits near your ribs and leg.

The dress was Autumn Court colors. He swallowed hard at the observation.

When he reached your eyes again, they were no longer twinkling with happiness. Instead, they were hardened, angry, and they were looking into his own. Your smile was gone, and you were quick to dismiss yourself from your friends to march over to where he was standing, placing your glass of champagne on a nearby table on the way.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

As disheartening as it was to hear your voice so terse when directed toward him, his heart still skipped a beat. He had never spoken to you directly before. Instead, finding it safer to keep his distance and interact with the other members of the inner circle. That way, he could still keep up the cold front.

"I'm . . . " He tried to think of an excuse as to what he was doing in the Night Court. During Starfall of all times. "Rhysand invited me as a way to show trust in our alliance."

Your brows furrowed with irritation. "I highly doubt that. He knows. He knows what you are to me and how I feel about it."

Eris' stomach dropped, his mouth suddenly going dry. Since when did you know?

Heels clicked on the ground as you took a step closer, looking up at him with your chin up. "We both know the Mother was cruel to pair me with you as a mate. Did you honestly think you could make us forget about everything you have done? Did you think you deserved a mate after everything you have done?"

His heart beat hard in his chest, and he gritted his teeth as he attempted to breathe through the pain in his chest. Each of your words struck harder than the last, stabbing deep into his flesh and twisting at the space his soul was tied to yours.

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse and shaky, so unlike the heir to the Autumn Court. "I never thought—"

"—That you would have to face the consequences of your actions? That a female might not feel safe being mated to the male who left her naked friend for dead with a sign nailed to her womb?"

Eris tried to take a step back, tried to distance himself from each of your cruel but truthful words. He couldn't bare it, he had kept his distance all this time so that he wouldn't have to. But he deserved this, he knew. All of your hatred, disgust, anger. At both the Mother and at him.

When you followed his step backward, he braced himself on the railing pressing against his lower spine. You leaned in and your sweet scent of vanilla and the cold air of night hit him like a wall.

"I will never want to be with a male like you."

He nodded. He nodded despite the tears starting to flood his eyes, despite the feeling of his throat closing, despite the nausea threatening to upend his last meal.

But you ignored his acceptance, his willingness to accept your choice, and made sure he knew exactly what you were saying. "I reject this bond in every form. I will reject it in front of your court, in front of my own, and in front of the Mother herself. I will call her a sadist for bonding me to you, and then I will spit on the Cauldron for making such a mistake."

Then you were strutting away, your dress flowing all around as you disappeared down the stairs to the streets below.

It took every ounce of self control and rationality left in Eris' body to stop himself from tipping over the railing, from ridding himself of the agony festering in his chest and ridding you of the burden of him.

Instead, he turned his body to face the railing and gripped it tightly between his hands, hanging his head and trying to breathe.

He knew this day would come eventually, but nothing could have prepared him for the pain of living through it.

You hated him. Thought he was a monster. Rejected him.

And he deserved it, didn't he? Had he not done awful things in his past?

He swallowed harshly. He had only ever tried to do his best given the circumstances he was born into, but his best would never be good enough for you.

When his shaking minimized and he felt as if he was getting air in his lungs, he raised his head once again.

The sight might have given him whiplash.

What was previously a starry night with twinkling lights and flutes of champagne was now the Autumn Court throne room with towering statues and the evil High Lord himself waiting to be worshipped.

Eris barely had time to question how he got there before he was spotting the red pool of liquid to the right of the throne, a body laying in it.

A female body. One with faint bruises and bright auburn hair. One that had given him a smile when it had nothing left to give. One that sang him songs when he wanted to give up.

His mother.

Beron sat on his throne with a smug grin, and Eris felt rage burning in his veins.

He moved forward, palms tingling with the need to erupt, but Beron held up a hand nonchalantly, his face morphing into one of boredom.

"I didn't think my eldest son to be so impulsive."

Confusion rushed through him, but then he heard a strangled cry coming from the door to the right. A familiar cry. And the rage and sorrow that had been flowing through him from seeing his dear mother dead was then compounded with panic and fear.

How?

How had Beron found out? How had he gotten you away from Velaris?

Two Autumn Court guards dragged you into the throne room, kicking the backs of your knees until you were kneeling in front of them. Bruises lined your beautiful face, and your lip was split with a deep gash. Eris nearly growled at the sight.

"Ah, she does seem familiar, son. One of the Night Court whores, yes?"

Eris didn't respond. He didn't even move. Not with your life on the line.

"I caught your mother trying to help her escape. Despite what your mother insisted so foolishly, I cannot have my son having stronger ties with another court."

Beron grinned a slimy evil grin and then he was flipping his hand in a small wave, gesturing at someone unseen to Eris. That someone--another guard—brought forth a beautiful handcrafted sword. It gleamed under the lights of the throne room, and Eris' hands twitched with inaction as he studied the sharpened blade.

His father's footsteps echoed as he descended the throne and made his way over to you. His sweet mate, always brave, lifted her chin in defiance as the High Lord studied the sword in front of her.

"I apologize for the Mother leaving you with such a fate, my dear. But of course, you must understand."

Eris was frozen. Frozen as he watched the light leave your eyes as you realized this was it. Frozen as his father tilted his head, savoring your acceptance of defeat. Frozen as the sword was raised high, sparking with light. Frozen as you lifted your head to the ceiling as if sending your soul to the Mother herself. And frozen as the sword came swinging down in a heavy motion, cleaving through your neck with barely any resistance.

Eris was choking. He couldn't breathe. He might have been screaming.

He fell to his knees, barely catching himself before he fell fully over. And then he was heaving, emptying his stomach on the pristine marble floor beneath him, and trying to breathe through his sobs.

No, no, no, no, no.

Not you. Not his mate.

His eyes squeezed shut as he willed a different outcome. Willed the last twenty seconds to go back in time so he could have done something.

The thought of your blood spilling from your neck, of your beautiful beautiful face now rendered in permanent fear, of your body split in two had him nearly self-combusting.

This couldn't be real. This wasn't real. This wasn't real . . .

He didn’t know what he thought, why he lifted his head in some last hope that you had somehow been able to get away, to dodge that death blow. He had seen the sword slide through your skin as if it was nothing, but maybe it was a trick? Some ploy to torture the Autumn Court heir?

But the bond in his chest was dark. It was dark and hollow and empty, and when he lifted his eyes to where you were kneeling, he saw only your torso laying in a large pool of blood, nearly identical to the one surrounding the body of his mother.

He cried. He sobbed and he yelled and he heaved. He reached for your body, wanting to be closer to you, wanting to apologize for being your doom. His fingers reached out, desperate to feel the warmth of your body before it was drained.

But then Beron was stepping in his path. The High Lord towered over where Eris kneeled in pain, and the way the male was standing put your severed head directly in Eris’ sight. It hung from his father’s fingers like it were something as trivial as a lantern.

Eris was going to kill him. He was going to burn this entire court to the ground and was going to savor doing it.

As the blood dripped from your cut neck to land directly in front if his knees, though, Eris realized it would all be for nothing.

He had no one.

His mother was dead.

His mate was dead.

He stared at the dripping blood, waiting for his father to kill him too. Begging the Mother to bring the sword onto his own neck as well.

When the motion didn’t come, Eris found himself looking up once again, ready to face his father and death itself.

But the throne room was gone. His mother’s pale body, your decapitated body . . . both gone.

You now stood in front of his kneeling form, your back to him as you surveyed your naked body in the mirror. Your alive body, completely in tact and breathing.

“I thought you said you would be a kinder ruler than your father. That you wished to right his wrongs.”

Your voice was small, jarring to his ears after what he had just witnessed. He had to shake the image of you dead on the ground from his mind in order to respond. “I will be. I do.”

“Then why is your court still afraid of its ruler? Why am I still afraid of my ruler?”

He could barely process what was happening, what you were saying.

A breath and then you were turning to face him. Your body on full display. Eris nearly gasped. Burns—some in the shape of fingerprints, others in the shape of hands—marred your skin. The tender skin of your throat burned a bright red, matching that of your wrists, forearms, and inner thighs.

“Why are you so insistent to be just like him?”

He met your eyes, his head already shaking in denial. He would never—

“I would never hurt you.”

“Then why do you?”

Eris only continued to shake his head desperately. This couldn’t be real. He would never lay a hand on you, would never even think of marking your delicate skin or causing you a lick of pain.

A small thud resounded through the room as you fell to your knees in front of him, matching his position and taking his face into your delicate hands. Your eyes were soft, shining with sympathy. “Everything you touch burns, Eris. You are meant to destroy, not love.”

The harsh words contrasted so greatly with your gentle touch, with your tender voice and sad eyes. His jaw clenched as he tried to push back the tears already leaking from the corners of his eyes.

He knew your words were true. Despite the hope that often spread in his chest at the possibility of escaping his family, of doing better, he knew that he had done too much bad to ever think of himself worthy of anything other than pain and destruction.

He would reap what he sowed.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

“I know,” you whispered. You leaned forward, lightly pressing your lips to his damp cheek. “But you have to let me go. If you really cared, you wouldn’t want me around you.”

He felt like he was dying, like he was losing a crucial part of himself. But keeping you, your mating bond, would mean doing wrong by you, subjecting you to a monstrous male, a monstrous ruler who can’t help but be the villain his blood tells him he is.

“Let me go back to the Night Court. Back to my friends and family.”

Family. Friends. The words struck Eris like a blow. Your soft voice uttering them only reminded him of how alone he truly was. No family. No friends. And you were leaving now too.

No one ever chose him; he ruined things too quickly for that.

He looked into your warm eyes, hand reaching out to gently stroke at your cheek. His fingertips barely grazed the skin before you were flinching back from his touch. He immediately withdrew his hand, his heart thumping in despair at the fear that flashed in your eyes.

You were beautiful. So beautiful. Sometimes he questioned if you were an angelic form sent by the Mother to tempt him, to see the lengths to which he’d go in his selfishness.

But he couldn’t be selfish when it came to you. Especially not when it came to your safety and happiness.

And he never wanted to see that look of fear in your eyes again. So he nodded. He steeled himself, met your gaze, and nodded.

"Go."

It hurt. It hurt so fucking badly. But Eris would do anything for you. He would give up his crown, his happiness, his life, if it meant you were safe and cared for. Here in the Autumn Court, with his handprints marking your skin, you would never be safe and cared for.

You stood slowly, backing away from him as if he were a wild animal that could unleash himself at any moment. You were quiet and careful in your movements, and when you finally reached the door and shut it with a click, he heard your hesitancy turn into something just as painful: panic. Footsteps skidded down the hall, rushing to leave this place. Rushing to leave him.

Eris did not remove himself from the floor.

He stayed in that kneeling position, remembering your rejection, your execution, and your battered body.

His worst nightmares come to life.

They would stick with him forever—these moments. When he saw you again, he would see what he did here. Your disgust, your blood, your fear. It left him speechless. Broken.

He stared vacantly at the wooden floor beneath his knees. At his hands resting there. His hands that have caused so much harm. That would love nothing more than to hold you and protect you but are meant to burn and destroy instead.

You were right. Being around him was a death sentence.

He only wished it was one for him as well.

As if the thought triggered something deep within him, he was thrown back into reality. His wet eyes flew open, tear-soaked eyelashes fluttering, and mouth gasping for air in the cold atmosphere of the cell.

His entire body was shaking, from the cold or trauma, he wasn't sure. And that pain in his chest where his mating bond should be—it only grew stronger.

He tried to suck in air, to breathe through that pain, but it was difficult. His back still burned from his earlier whipping, and his mind was whirling with everything he had seen and experienced. His beautiful, beautiful mate . . .

But that wasn't real. You were alive and safe. This was real now, and he was exactly where his father had left him earlier in the day. Which meant you had gone home to the Night Court after the meeting. You were safe.

"The spell shows you your worst nightmares." A voice cut through the stillness of the room, causing Eris' trembling body to turn toward it. "Some you might not even be aware you have."

Eris wondered if his father somehow knew of the nightmares that went through his mind. If this witch saw and would report them for his father to use against his son at a later time. The thought increased his anxiety and panic further, his shaking and breathing still uncontrollable. He couldn't know. If his father knew—

"I would recommend coming up with others for me to report to the High Lord. I would hate to see an innocent girl punished for your emotions."

Her voice was cold, unimpressed. But what she was offering him . . .

Eris immediately grasped the favor. "Tell him I saw my brothers assassinate me. Tell him I saw a world in which humans ruled. Tell him I experienced him beating me in this cell for months. That I both fear him and fear his vision not coming to fruition. Anything."

When the witch merely stared at him, unmoving, he pleaded. "Please."

She only tilted her head, observing him. He could only imagine how he looked: tear-filled eyes, a bloody and bare back, his entire body reacting with panic, his voice begging. A pure antithesis to how he normally presented himself in public.

But she just turned on her heel and made her way up the stone stairway, leaving him on the cold and dirty floor.

He screwed his eyes shut, praying to whatever god was out there that she would lie. That she would tell him things that would only result in himself getting hurt. That you would be safe and he would be completely unaware of his son having a mate.

But Eris knew he was never lucky. He did not win in games of life. He was never granted a family that loved him, people who cared and looked out for him. So, when the door at the top of the stairway clanged shut, he couldn't help the broken sob that left his throat.

He might have just brought his nightmares to life.

You had said it to him then, and the words echoed in his head now: Everything you touch burns.

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #acotar x reader #acotar x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris fic #eris vanserra fic #acotar fic

[azrielsdove]

Hi! It has been years since i’ve written like this, but after becoming obsessed with the ACOTAR series I needed to write again. This is my first one in a long time so it may be a little rough. Please let me know what you think!

Warnings: 18+, Mature

Fake Dating: Azriel x Reader

Your eyes traveled down his face, his body, catching on the tattoos swirling his arms, letting out a soft sigh. From beside you came a small chuckle, “If you stare at him any harder you’re going to burn a hole through his skin.” You turned and glared at the Shadowsinger, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “Hush, Azriel.” You muttered before turning back to look at Rhysand.

You had met Azriel nearly 300 years ago now, right after they completed the blood rite. You were healing his injuries, chatting with him as you do all your patients. You learned all about his brothers, Cassian and Rhysand. When he was all patched up, he took you over to meet them. The first time your eyes locked onto the future High Lord, you knew you were fucked.

Once Rhysand became the official High Lord, Azriel came to offer you a job with them. You asked why, as you certainly weren’t bad at what you do, but there were definitely more talented healers to choose from. He said Rhys wanted you and only you, and you weren’t going to argue with that. That night you packed up the few things you had and Azriel brought you to Velaris.

Your feelings for Rhysand never faded, much to your dismay. You were tired of your heart wanting him, needing him. He never gave any hint he saw you in the same way, and you knew you had to give it up. Yet everytime you tried to look to another or brought a male to your bed, you would always end up thinking of him.

Azriel knew of your feelings and teased you endlessly about it. Usually you just rolled your eyes at him, but as time went on the more wound up you became. You felt him move closer to you on the sofa you were perched on, bowing his head to whisper in your ear.

“Have you thought about making him jealous?” He muttered, warm breath tickling your neck. You shook your head slightly, confused by what he meant. “Who’s to say he would even care?” You whispered back, casting a sad glance over to where Rhysand sat with Cassian. “It’s worth a try. You’ve done everything else. Maybe he needs to think you’ve lost interest.” He spoke as you looked at him. “How would I convince him of that?” you asked quietly, eyes searching Azriels. He leaned in close again, a sudden shiver reaching down your spine as his lips touched your ear.

“Pretend to date me.”

***

You played Azriels plan over and over in your head, pacing in your room. You two were the closest out of everyone, so it wouldn’t be much of a shock if you seemingly started to share affections. There was a good chance Rhysand wouldn’t even care, and where would that leave you and Azriel? When you brought this up, he laughed and said it wouldn’t be hard to pose an amicable “break up”. If it didn’t work, maybe it would be the realization you needed to take your attentions off Rhys. There were many beautiful males in Velaris, you were certain your heart could latch onto one if it would just accept that Rhys didn’t want you.

You slept terribly, tossing and turning as you went over the pros and the cons. In the end you decided it was worth trying. Either you get the man of your dreams, or you can finally move on from him. Azriel was your closest friend and you knew he would play his role perfectly and make you feel comfortable. When the morning came you caught Azriel before breakfast, telling him you agreed to his plan. You did not like the way his eyes lit up at that.

You entered the kitchen together, ready to grab some food after a long night. As you reached for a piece of toast, you felt a hand settle onto the small of your back. Azriel reached around you, grabbing some for himself as he ducked his head to whisper “The plan starts now,” before pressing the lightest kiss to your cheek. Your skin heats up on contact, not used to receiving affection like this. You give a small nod as you finish grabbing your food and go to sit. Azriel sits down next to you, as he usually does. However, he scoots his chair the tiniest bit closer to you, catching the eyes of Cassian. He refrains from saying anything, instead looking at the two of you curiously.

The rest of breakfast proceeds as normal and you start to get used to the game. At training Azriel allows his hands to linger on you longer than usual, stands closer than he normally does, and whispers his instructions in your ears. You allow soft smiles and slightly pink cheeks to show, leaning into his touch on more than one occasion. Enough for the others to be interested, but not enough for anyone to say anything. Yet.

The next few days pass much the same, and you know your friends are dying to hound you with questions. Out of respect for Azriel they seem to round themselves in, not wanting to ambush you guys quite yet. As the week ends it is decided to go out and spend some time together. It had been quite a while since all of you had a nice night.

You got dressed, thumbing through the dresses Mor tends to shower you with. You pull one out, a stunning midnight blue number. You loved the feeling of the material on your skin as you gazed at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was in an elegant updo, your makeup perfectly done to highlight the best features of your face, and the dress….it was everything. It sat off the shoulder as it trailed down your body, every step making the fabric shimmer. There were two slits on both sides leading up to the tops of your thighs. You nearly looked the poster child for Night Court fashion.

When you met the others downstairs Mor looked over you appreciatively, grabbing the dress in her hands. “It’s perfect!!” she squealed, pulling you farther into the group. Cassian gave a whistle as you spun, throwing your head back with laughter. Suddenly warm hands appeared on your waist, squeezing lightly. You turn to Azriel, who has a look in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “Beautiful.” Is all he says as you smile up at him. You look over his black attire and could say the same. You hear a small cough and look to see Rhys, staring at you with an unreadable expression. “I think we should go,” he says, perhaps a bit cooly. Azriel wraps you in his arms as you fly down to the glittering city below.

***

As nights with the Inner Circle tend to go, you ended up filing into Rita’s. You let the music wash over you as you take a shot from Mor, quickly downing it. Rhysand acted completely normal at dinner, and has already gone to find a female to entertain him here. You were a little dismayed, but you weren’t going to let that ruin your evening. You settled into the normal booth you all took as Azriel slid in next to you. Mor and Cassian left to get more shots, and Azriel quickly pulled you onto his lap. You let out a gasp at his actions, moving to get off. His hands tightened on you as he murmured , “We need to up it a little. He almost seemed jealous before he left, didn’t he?”. You nodded before settling more into Azriels grasp. Soon Mor and Cassian were back, with Rhys not far behind. They all looked at you before looking at each other, eyes glittering as they shared a common thought.

You took shot after shot, desperately wanting to forget everything. Rhysand kept ignoring you and too many beautiful females were coming to the table. Eventually he seemed to tire a little of this, and turned to the group. “A game?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Mor laughed and Cassian banged his hand on the table, always ready for some friendly competition. You couldn’t help but wish Amren was here, she was excellent at beating them in any sort of game.

“Truth or Drink!” Cassian yelled, ever the young boy you had first met. You rolled your eyes but nodded, noticing Azriels hand start tracing the skin on your calf. You thought nothing of it until you felt him place a light kiss to your shoulder, sending chills over your skin. You turn to him with a smile, muttering “What are you doing?” through your teeth. He leaned down and placed a kiss right under your ear, squeezing your waist with one hand as you gave a small gasp. “Making him jealous” he stated, bringing his hand up a little higher and adding another kiss to your shoulder. You turned your attention back to the others, trying to not react to Azriels touch.

Almost immediately Cassian and Mor got in an argument about his question to her, turning all attention to them. Azriels hands slid higher and higher as he softly caressed the middle of your thigh. He began pressing more kisses to your neck, the hand on your thigh drawing circles on your skin. His teeth drug across the soft skin of your neck as you let your head fall back. You were struggling to focus on the game or on your friends. You knew this wasn’t real, that you weren’t supposed to be feeling like this. You hoped Azriel thought you were just playing along and that he didn’t realize the heat radiating from you.

That is until his hand traveled high enough he could feel the slickness that had traveled down your thigh. Until he lightly sucked the skin under your ear and you gave him a small moan. He stopped everything he was doing, his hand gripping tight on your thigh. You pulled your head up to look at him with wide eyes, but he was looking elsewhere. You followed his gaze to…Rhysand. You locked eyes with Rhys, shocked by the anger and jealousy in them. You genuinely didn’t believe this plan would work, but it seems it is. “If you two are done fucking each other in front of us, we have a game to get to,” he spat out. Your face flushed red as you readjusted on Azriel. His hand stayed on your thigh as the night went on, but he didn’t move again.

***

The next morning you lay awake in your bed. You were thinking about how Rhys seemed jealous, and that maybe this plan wasn’t totally irrational. However you were also thinking about the feeling of Azriels hands and lips on your skin, a burning in your stomach as you remembered. You ran your hands over your eyes and tried to forget how good he felt touching you. You jumped into a cold bath, forcing all hot thoughts away from you. This was all a game to get Rhysands attention. Azriel did not even like you like that. You needed to get over the way he made you feel.

Over the next few days you and Azriel fell back into your plan, lingering touches and longing gazes. Nothing like that night at Rita’s though. You felt a gnawing in your gut as you realized that made you a little upset. You leaned against a cold wall in the hallway, trying to calm your racing mind.

You heard footsteps coming towards you and you shot your eyes open. You relaxed a little to see it was Azriel. That relaxed feeling quickly changed as he slid is body in front of yours and pressed you back into the wall. Your arms shot to his chest, moving to push him away. He locked his hands on your waist before dipping down and biting under your ear. Your mouth dropped open and he whispered “He’s coming this way. Play along.” You nodded before he began kissing and sucking on your neck, one hand sliding under your shirt. Your hands gripped onto his clothes as you moved your neck to give him more room. His lips were bruising on your skin and you felt that familiar heat rise in your core. His hand traveled across your stomach, tracing the soft skin there. He gave a particularly harsh suck on the spot where your neck met your collarbone and you arched into him. His hand started playing with your waistband, almost begging to go down.

“Azriel..” you breathed, body on fire from his touch. You felt him smile on your skin before his fingers dipped lower. Your heart rate quickened, unsure how far you would take this game. You were scared when you realized you didn’t want him to stop. His fingers found you over your underwear, pressing down onto that bundle of nerves. You arched into him again as you moaned out his name, forgetting where you are and why you are doing this. His head comes up to look at you, his eyes full of heat. He presses again to hear you make that delicious noise for him. He bends his head to hover his lips over yours, beginning to slide your underwear out of the way. Everything is on fire, you can’t handle this teasing, you don’t want to wait for him anymore-

“What is going on here?”

Azriel lets out a low growl of frustration as he pulls away from you, glaring at Rhysand. You straighten your shirt and glance over too, shocked by the anger in his eyes. “What does it matter to you?” Azriel asked coldly. Your eyes couldn’t decide which of the men to look at as you observed the situation in front of you. Rhys scoffed as he said “I’m just not interested in watching you whore yourself out around my home.” You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes, mortified at what he had said. Azriel stiffened as he spoke, “That’s enough. We weren’t doing anything wrong. Do not act as though you are so much better, High Lord.” Rhysands hands clenched into fists as he stared Azriel down, his dark power beginning to fill the hall. You found yourself reaching out to grab onto Azriels arm as the darkness got closer. An action Rhys did not miss. “What would he have to offer that I do not?” he spat. You immediately noticed the hurt come across Azriel and the regret that passed through Rhysands face as he realized what was said. You didn’t want to hear this anymore. You pulled Azriel back down the hall, away from the ashamed shape of Rhysand.

***

It had been a month since that incident. Azriel left Velaris to train in the mountains and Rhys avoided you completely. Mor and Cassian tried their best to keep you occupied, but everyone could feel the tension. No one knew what had happened between you three and no one was brave enough to ask. Only Amren had rolled her eyes about it and muttered something about “incompetent men and their emotions”.

You were curled up in one of the chairs in the small library of the house when you felt eyes on you. You looked around to find Rhysand standing there. You noticed that the little skip your heart usually does was absent. “I have come to apologize.” He said softly, hands in his pockets. “I’ve noticed how you look at me over these years and I grew to accept it as fact. It was harder than I expected to find you with Az. I didn’t mean what I said. It was unfair to you. I am truly sorry.” He spared a glance up at you to gauge how you felt. You looked at him with tired eyes. “I longed after you for so many years, Rhys. I tried to pretend I didn’t want you and failed everytime. It wasn’t until Az that I began to realize there may be someone else for me. It didn’t start off real. All I ever wanted was to be enough for you.” Your words faltered on that last sentence. You caught Rhys’ surprised expression as he came closer and grabbed your hands. “You were always enough.” He whispered, sinking to his knees in front of you. “I am so sorry. I took advantage of your feelings. I liked how you quietly sought after me. I should never have let it go on so long.” He pressed a kiss to your hands before laying his head on them.

You pulled one hand out of his grasp to thread your fingers through his hair. “Rhys,” you sighed softly, “it is not just me who needs your apology. What you said to Azriel was very wrong and you know it. You need to find him and convince him to come home. Please.” He looked up at you, his eyes lined with tears. He nodded as he stood, releasing your hand. “You’re right. I will not be the one to destroy this family. Not over who you choose to love.” He began to walk away, preparing to find Azriel. “Rhys,” you called after him, “tell him to find me when he is back. We have much to discuss.”

***

A few days later you were relaxing in your bath when your door crashed open. You jumped and looked to see Azriel standing in the pieces of your bathroom door. You guessed Rhys and him got their emotions out, as he had bruises on his face and arms. Yet his eyes shone brightly. Especially as he realized the predicament you were in.

He walked over to you without hesitation and plucked you out of the bath. You squealed in protest but quickly hushed when he placed you on your vanity and stood between your legs. His eyes burned over your body. You felt that heat curl around you again as his hands gripped onto your thighs. “You told me to find you.” He spoke, eyes locking with yours. All you could do was nod, not quite having words to use at the moment. “What is it, my little bird? What do you need?” His words dropped to a deadly whisper as he leaned in close. Your eyes widened when his hand moved to cup your heat. “A-Az,” you stuttered out, mind going blank. “Tell me what you need.” He growled, letting his fingers gently explore you. You let out a frustrated moan and pulled him closer to whisper in his ear.

“Touch me Azriel.”

That was all it took for his fingers to plunge into you, causing your back to arch against the mirror behind you. His mouth caught yours, the action making you gasp. He took advantage of that to slide his tounge into yours and explore. He broke away to continue kissing down your neck, down your chest. His fingers curled in you, hitting that perfect spot that sent lighting down your back. Within seconds his mouth was on your thighs, working his way to you. He pulled you to the edge of the vanity and licked up your folds. You grabbed his hair and moaned his name, so close to your finish. The second his lips attached to your bud your eyes rolled back in your head, wave after wave of pleasure coating you. He devoured you through it, not stopping once the pleasure had subsided. He continued to increase everything he was doing until another orgasm washed over you with a scream. Only then did he pause, but only long enough to pull you down and turn you to face the mirror.

“I want you to watch how well you take me.” He says into your ear, pulling himself out. You tried to turn and look but he forced your head back towards the mirror, making you take in the sight before you. You looked at yourself, at the bruising marks leading down your body from his mouth, at the handprints on your thighs from his grip. You saw your flushed face and swollen lips, looking fucked out. You looked up to see Azriels reflection, his eyes a burning fire, his lips wet with you. A shudder passed through your body at the enticing sight of him. You felt him slide his tip through your wet folds, preparing to slide into you. Carefully he pushed in and you saw your mouth create a perfect “o” at the sensation. He was bigger than anyone you had ever taken before. Inch by inch he slid in until you were perfectly seated on him. He put his hands on yours on the tabletop, pressing them down. His lips met your neck, pressing harsh bites down. “Watch as I make you forget any other male exists.” He growls, thrusting in and out of you. You are so sensitive after two orgasms that the pleasure takes root instantly. Moan after moan slide past your lips as Azriel takes you as his. One hand slides up to find your most sensitive place again, rubbing small circles. “I want to feel you cum on my cock.” He commands as his actions speed up. You feel that all too familiar tightening in your belly as you squeeze down on him, tears flowing at the overstimulation. Azriel gives you a soft kiss on your cheek, never ceasing his thrusting. “Such a good girl for me. You can give me one more, my perfect girl. One more.” He whispers against your skin. You want to say you don’t think you have any more in you when he adjusts and hits the perfect spot inside of you. You scream again, fingernails digging into the table. You feel Azriel speed up and his fingers connect to you again. He bites down on your shoulder as he hits that perfect spot inside again and you let go for a fourth time. You yelling his name and squeezing around him has him finish deep, letting out a roar as he emptied himself in you.

The room is quiet aside from the sounds of your heavy breathing. You are certain if Azriel backs away you will collapse to the ground. He slowly pulls out and you let out a soft whine at the emptiness you feel. He gently scoops you up and runs a fresh bath. Within minutes he is fully undressed and in the bath with you, cradling your body to his. He washes your sore skin, paying close attention to the marks he left on you. You could fall asleep right there, with his hands massaging your body and your back against his chest. Az notices and takes great care pulling you out with him, bundling you in a warm towel. He carries you to your bed and slides under the covers with you. You curl up into his chest, feeling more calm and sated than you had in centuries.

***

You half expected it to be a dream. The first thing you notice when you wake up is Azriel still holding you tight. The second thing you notice is how deliciously sore your body is. Heat curls up through you again at the feeling, and Azriel stirs. His eyes open slowly and he looks down at you. He reaches up to push your hair out of your face before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Good morning my sweet girl.” he says, kissing you again. “Good morning Az.” you mumble back before grabbing his mouth again. You groan in frustration as he pulls away and laughs. “We have to talk about it.” He points out, and you’d rather him just take you again.

You roll onto your back and let out a breath before saying, “I know.” You turn to look at him again and pause to collect your thoughts. “I do not want this to be a game, Az. I do not care about Rhysand. The only male I can think of is you. It has been this way since this all started. You have been here the whole time and I was too busy pining after someone who would never want me to notice it. I want to be with you, Az. I want it to be you and me.” You start off confident, but your words lose the feeling as you go on. You look at him without breathing, afraid of what he may say. Instead, he pulls you close to him and says;

“Why do you think I came up with this plan in the first place?”

****

Thank you for reading! I’d love to know what you all think and please send any requests you have for other stories! <3

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #azriel #rhysand #acotar #azriel smut

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Broken bat

Azriel x f!Reader

Summary; Reader is in love with Azriel but he is with Elain, so she decides to accept Beron's proposition and marry Eris.

Warnings; angst, swearing, mentions of blood.

Masterlist

Stars filled the sky in Velaris as the night settled in. You were sitting next to the window in your room, staring outside wondering how the hell you ended up in this situation. Your cousin Rhysand had invited you in his office to talk about a proposition from the Autumn court, Beron wanted you to marry his son Eris in order to maintain a peaceful relationship with the night court. You gaped at Rhysand not believing that your cousin was even thinking about it.

“It’s your choice, I don’t mind if you don’t want to do this but it is my duty to inform you about this” he had said. You knew Eris, you spent some time together a few months ago when you visited the winter court as Rhysand’s emissary. Eris was there to talk about some dispute between the Autumn and Winter courts. He was an arrogant male, nothing unusual for a high lord’s heir but he was also funny, and kind when he felt like it. It sure wouldn’t be a bad thing if he became your husband. You could think way worse potential marriages. You needed to think this through so you asked Rhysand to give you some time and he respected your wish.

The main reason behind your uncertainty was the stunning shadowsinger. You had been pinning after him for ages yet he completely ignored you.

You clenched your jaw at the thought and shut your eyes. Maybe marrying Eris was for the best, you could learn to love him and even forget about Azriel.

Dinner would be served soon so you gathered all your courage and walked to the dinning room. Everyone was already there and to your relief the seat next to the shadowsinger was taken by Elain leaving the opposite one free.

Any other night it would have bothered you but tonight you couldn’t sit next to him.

You stood in front of the empty seat and with a deep breath said “I have an announcement to make”. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at you, you felt those hazel eyes on you and gulped.

“Rhysand informed me about a proposition from the Autumn court, in order to make amends for the past and to create a peaceful relationship between the courts I am to be married to Eris”.

Everyone was gaping at you. Taking a seat, you filled your plate with food trying to avoid everyone’s gaze on you.

“Like hell you are” Azriel growled. You looked at him wide-eyed.

“It’s her decision to make Az” Rhysand replied for you.

“This is Eris we’re talking about” Azriel’s voice was rising with each word making Rhys glare at him.

“Why do you care?” Your question surprised everyone even the shadowsinger.

“Because you are Rhysand’s cousin and that makes us family too”.

You scoffed at this and got up.

“I lost my appetite, excuse me” you left the room. You heard footsteps behind you and rolled your eyes, before you could close your bedroom’s door scarred arms pushed it making you grunt.

“What do you want Azriel, I’m really not in the mood for a fight”.

He entered and slammed the door shut.

“What were you thinking when you accepted?” His eyes frantically searching your own. He wanted to read you, and this was something he was good at, so you kept your gaze on the floor.

“Eris isn’t that bad, and the marriage could be very beneficial for our court” your voice was calm “also I don’t have a reason to stay”

“What about Rhys and Mor? Your cousins need you”

“No they don’t.” You shrugged.

“What about me?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You glanced at him “what about you?”

“I need you” he confessed, his hazel eyes staring deep into your own searching for any emotion.

“Az what do you mean?” You could swear your heart was about to explode.

He walked up to you, his eyes never leaving your own. He cupped your jaw and glanced at your lips “please stay” and with that he captured your lips with his own. The kiss was needy, his other hand moving behind your head and pushing you further into him. Your brain stopped working for a moment and then it hit you, you pushed him off and panted.

“No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to fucking do this, not with Elain in the other room” tears filled your eyes and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“I…” he began but stopped, a guilty expression on his face.

“Get out.” He just stared at you. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” And you lost it, you picked everything you could find and threw it on the wall screaming “Get out… get out… get out”.

Your door flew open, Cassian was standing there his eyes frantically scanning the room, Rhysand behind him with a dagger in hand. Azriel was pale, he couldn’t move as he watched you destroy your room. Cassian grabbed him and pulled him out while Rhys cautiously approached you.

“I hate him… I fucking hate him” you cried out.

“Shh it’s okay” Rhysand hugged you. “Talk to Beron, the sooner we have the wedding the better.” You whispered.

 ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were getting ready for your wedding, Mor, Nesta, Amren and Feyre were running around barking orders and making sure everything was perfect. You glanced at the mirror, Beron had picked your wedding dress, and it was clear that he wanted to make a statement. The dress was even more extravagant than Feyre’s, you didn’t think it was possible, but you were wrong. You didn’t even know if you could fit through the door. “That thing is hideous” Amren spoke. Everyone nodded in agreement and before you could reply Elain burst into your room, her face filled with tears and panic.

“Azriel broke up with me, he was drunk and… and he left and then I heard Eris saying that he got in a fight with someone, and he is hurt.” She was sobbing.

You gasped “Where is he?” “It’s your fault” Elain screamed.

“Elain I swear if you don’t tell me where he is….” You were interrupted by someone walking in, not just someone but your future husband. Eris stared at you and amusement filled his eyes.

“Are you wearing our wedding cake?” he teased earning a scoff. “You look terrible darling” he continued. “You know its bad luck to see the bride before the wedding” Nesta spoke.

“I know but I think that the broken and completely drunk bat in my room belongs to her.” He said with a bored look. “What is he doing in your room?” you asked.

“He was hurt, and I think he wanted to beat me up, but he passed out the moment he walked in. Anyway, please come get your bat and spare me from this horrible wedding.” He turned to walk out “and burn this thing it’s hideous”. And with that he was gone.

You glanced at Feyre who nodded, and you ran, the dress was banging against tables, destroying everything on the way but you didn’t care.

You burst into Eris’ room and there he was; on the ground covered in blood, his hair a mess and his wings tense. You kneeled next to him and caressed his head “Az..” he opened his eyes and stared at you. You didn’t know what to say so you just grabbed his jaw and kissed him. “I love you” he whispered. “I know… I love you too”

Currently working on two requests one about Azriel and one about Cassian, I will post them as soon as I finish them. Requests are open

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #azriel spymaster #feyre archeron #rhysand #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #cassian #cassian acotar #amren #mor acotar #inner circle #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader

[readychilledwine]

Hellos. Could do something where the reader is azriel mate and they are kidnapped. She sacrifices her wings to save his life. And mention how az is angry that it happened and whatever u think will look good. Thank you.

👀👀👀👀 I, uh, may have a thing for shattering my own heart only to pick up the pieces. So yes. Yes, I can. Hopefully, you enjoy it, and I did it justice, dearest!

Beauty in Pain

Azriel x Illyrian reader

Warnings - not over descriptive mentions of torture and dismemberment, Azriel goes feral, depression, the usual unedited by an outside source.

Word count -2030

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

You were better trained than this. 

That reminder was echoing inside your mind like a war drum, beating senselessly into your thoughts as you were dragged down the barely lit pathway under the temple. You knew no one was coming. Faebane had blocked the mating bond, blocked your ability to call Rhys or Feyre. You'd be lucky if they found you, alive or dead.

It had started a routine mission. Head to the war camps, ask the leader for reports, speak with the females, head home to your mate.

Your mate. The one you prayed had felt the bond grow cold despite the many promises to never shut each other out. The one who'd slaughter every single male involved in this when he found out where you were, who had you, and what they planned to do or will have done.

You didn't fight as they laid you face down on the concrete block in the room. They had planned this, planned how long to keep you on a specific dose of faebane, no food, and no water. Planned the beatings used to weaken you on a cycle. You felt it and flinched as two sets of hands roughly grabbed your left wing. 

You were prepared to be clipped as a form of torture for the information they wanted. You knew it was coming. But as blinding pain left you with no choice but to scream out for your mate, for your brother, for Rhysand, you knew the plan was worse than you had imagined.

But you did not yield. You bared the pain, allowing it to try and break you until the world grew cold and dark.

—-----------

Azriel was pacing Rhysand's office. He had not slept in the 7 long days you had been overdue for, at the very least, a check in, after the missive Rhys and Cassian had received.

They have not started training the females. I will be home or rewrite soon. I promise. The three Illyrian males had trusted you to handle it. They had trusted you would be safe, unharmed, respected. 

And despite every alarm ringing in his heart, mind, and soul, Azriel had not gone to you right away. 

Rhysand's eyes glazed over, his face dropping slowly as he received whatever message he was receiving. He came back to them slowly, moving without speaking as he started grabbing weapons and tossing them to Azriel and Cassian. 

The High Lord's voice was dealthy calm as he finally spoke. "A set of wings, freshly removed, was just found outside of my mother's cabin. There's no signs of (y/n) anywhere in any of the camps the twins searched. The only thing reported to them was in the northernmost camp."

Rhysand breathed deeply. "A female was carried through the camp, unconscious with her head and body covered. That same night the camp heard screams from midnight until early into the morning."

Cassian's breath caught in his throat before he immediately grabbed Rhysand's arm. "Take me there, now." 

"How long ago," Azriel's voice had gone cold and detached. "How long ago did that happen? How long has she been sitting Mother knows where with untreated wounds or dead?"

Rhysand refused to look at Azriel, reaching to grab his brother's hand, before finally whispering. "4 days."

—------------

The rescue had turned into a bloodbath. There was zero question as a panicked shadows all but dragged the three of them to an abandoned temple.

It reeked of her blood, her sweat, her tears. 

It held an almost haunting aura as if the terror and pain of her screams had scarred the ancient stone, marking it to forever echo her agony to anyone walking inside.

Azriel didn't want to ask questions. He didn't want prisoners. He wanted payment in blood. 

He had cut through every single male that appeared in their path before Rhysand and Cassian even had a chance to interfere on his way to the dungeons his shadows were pleading with him to get to quickly. 

And now one last male stood between him and the cell she laid unconscious in. "Move or be moved," Rhysand told him coolly. "I would not push your luck." 

The male stared at a blood soaked Azriel. His shadows were curling over his shoulders like snakes waiting to strike. His wings flared wide in dominance and anger. His 7 siphons glowing. 

The young male moved, allowing Rhysand to grab him and winnow him away to the Prison before Azriel could beat him to death as well. Cassian moved quickly to the door, opening it with the key they had found, before entering the small cell containing his sister.

The anguished sob that left Cassian was the only confirmation Azriel needed. "Y/n," he heard Cassian tapping your body. "Come on, sis. Wake up."

Dying. Azriel's shadows confirmed. Infections. We cannot safely winnow her. Rhys is bringing a healing team. Need more space. 

Azriel moved into the cell, holding the scream in his throat as he was overwhelmed with the urge to run to you. Cassian had you cradled into his chest, rocking you back and forth before looking up at Azriel, eyes rimmed with tears. "We need to get her somewhere that Madja can use to work on her. Rhys is bringing her and a team of healers here." Azriel held his arms out, a silent demand in the movement. 

Cassian only nodded. Standing and carefully transferring your beaten and bleeding body into Azriel's arms, following him out of the room.

—---------------

3 long weeks of silence had passed in the House of Wind. 

No one had gone to Azriel's room.

No one had spoken to him without the male lashing out.

There was nothing they could do to comfort him but allow him to be with you.

When you first got home, while you were lying unconscious with Madja, Helion, and Lucien looking after you, Rhys had managed to get out of the male Azriel allowed to live one very simple thing. 

You let them torture you, let them completely take your wings, to force you to look into death's eyes, and you had allowed them to do it to protect Azriel. You had refused to give them his schedule to visit the camps. You refused to tell them when he'd be there alone again. You refused to tell them which pathway he flew in using or where he'd shadow-walk himself to first.

You had lost your wings to protect him. Your husband, your mate.

Azriel had lost it then, guilt eating away at him, and began beating the male to death with his bare fists as Cassian and Rhysand just watched. They knew what was echoing in his mind. She will live, Madja had said, but she will never be the same. Her wings can't be reattached or saved, no one has the ability to give her back what was taken.

You hadn't spoken to Azriel, Rhys, or Cassian when you finally woke up. You only sat in your window, staring at the sky. 

The one you'd never feel going through your hair again. The one you'd never touch again. The one you'd never taste again.

It was funny, you thought to yourself, to have been protected and trained to ensure this never happened, only for the moment it did to come 500 long years later. 

It had been a full week later when Azriel cornered you in the shower and just held your naked body for you two to speak. Another week passed before you allowed him to kiss you and hold you without him having to force the contact. You had yet to show interest in leaving the bedroom the two of you shared. 

You felt familiar scarred hands on your bare shoulders, wrapping around to your collarbones before running up the front of your neck and tilting your head back. "Dinner alone tonight or dinner with our family?" His voice was scratched from the crying you two had been doing. His eyes were swollen and red. "I already know the answer, I just need to verbally hear it."

"I wish to be alone." He nodded. Taking the cue and leaving you to your window as he sat back on the couch, head falling into his hands, as he began to cry again.

You watched his shoulders shaking, listened to his almost silenced sniffling. You knew things had forever changed in your relationship. 

There would be no more missions for you.

No more trips with Amren away from him.

No more walking Velaris alone.

There would be no more date nights spent flying.

No more jumping from high places together, allowing yourselves to fall until the last possible second, only to spread those precious wings.

There'd be no more wing play late into the early mornings, edging each other with small touches in certain places until you were both begging for relief.

But you knew deep down, more than anything, there would be a new Azriel. One that would have one more thing to hold against himself. One that would have one more moment of his life to look back on and use as an argument for how he wasn't enough.

And you couldn't have that. You would not stand for it.

You couldn't have the broken male you had spent time healing with, growing with, and struggling with. You could not have the one who blamed himself for every little thing again.

You stood on slightly unstable feet, and walked to your closet, a shadow trailing you. Rhys had immediately replaced your clothing, ensuring you would not have to go through ordering it yourself, and had the twins place the new materials into your closet. A simple black dress was what you picked. It would stop right above your knees, hug your torso beautifully. You closed the closet door, calling for Rhys silently in your mind and jumping as his hands appeared behind you. "I need help." You whispered. 

His eyes searched yours before nodding and helping you change into the dress. Allowing you to use him to balance. A kiss was placed on the back of your head as he laced it up. Gentle, but full of emotion. And he winnowed away. 

You left the closet, walking to Azriel on the couch slowly with a pair of his trousers and a black button-up shirt in hand. "I changed my mind. I'm craving that cake, the almond one with the vanilla frosting."

Azriel scoffed lightly. "I am not leaving you to go get cake. I will ask Rhysand-"

"I need you to fly me there, Az. I want to go get the cake, eat it at the Cafe with coffee, and then I want you to take me for a walk on the Sindra. And maybe go to that book store. The used book one."

He was silent before looking at you. His hazel eyes were full of question. "Y/n-"

"If my mate will not take me, I will ask my brother. I want cake, and I want my husband to take me to get it."

"I don't think you understand how heartbreaking not being able to truly fly is going to be, my heart."

You only repeated yourself, voice smaller this time. "If my mate will not take me, I will ask my brother. I want cake." You paused, eyes welling with tears. "I deserve cake and coffee. If I want cake and coffee for dinner, I expect my mate, the male who married me and bound himself to me, to take me."

Azriel nodded. Grabbing the clothing from you and he changed in silence. He stood on the balcony waiting as you took calming breaths and walked outside for the first time in many weeks.

"I am not responsible for the setback in your mental health after this." 

"No, but you are monetarily responsible for my cake and purchases. Let's go." He took you in his arms, holding you close to his chest and took off hard. 

And in that moment, you both knew something new had begun. You were laughing as he concentrated way more than usual to fly. You were smiling at how this allowed you to feel his body heat, to hear his heartbeat, to touch his face. 

You were laughing at how he began genuinely laughing at you. Not understanding where the sudden joy filling the bond and over flowing it like a faucet set to run for too long came from.

It wasn't until he paused in the sky, hovering so he could look down at your smiling face did you both realize something.

Losing your wings was just the beginning. 

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fic #azriel x illyrian!reader

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 4

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: food's ready, come dish up guys

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): SMUT (consensual), oral (female receiving), intercourse, dirty talking, unprotected sex, masturbation, mind speak sexting?, physical abuse, mentions of SA.

Word count: 6993

(all photos are from pinterest)

That night, after Rhysand reclothed me, we talked about the future and how Tamlin needed to know, before things got messy with Eris or before he finds out and flips. All I had to do now was wait for the opportune time, which never seemed to come as Tamlin and Tarquin had been having tension. It seemed that part of the Spring Court’s lands on the border were prime farming spots for some of the spices that the farmers in the Summer Court grew. Tarquin had asked Tamilin to purchase the land and of course when Tamlin said no things started to get messy. Tamlin would go out and negotiate daily, and everyday he would come home angry. 

Tonight was no exception.

 I was sitting in one of the tea rooms reading my book when I heard him come home. The front door slammed, shaking the house, and then his office door slammed even harder.

I flinched. 

It has been like this for three days now. I looked at the clock on the wall and figured it was better for me to retire to my room with my novel for the night. 

I barricaded my door just for safety and crawled under the covers lighting a candle so that I could pick up where I left off. The main characters had finally confessed their love for one another and things were starting to get steamy. My eyes flitted across a particularly hot line and I felt my toes curl without warning once again. I should’ve known I was going to feel a little tug at the bond, but I was unprepared for the taut pull Rhysand gave me. 

Up late reading your dirty books mate? 

“Yes, I just needed the distraction,” I replied.

Did you tell your brother yet? 

I felt a pang of guilt, he had been waiting so dutifully for me to do so, and yet another day had passed where I was too scared, “I didn’t, he came home slamming doors and breaking vases again. I’m sorry Rhys.”

There’s no need to apologize. I want you to be safe after all. 

“Thank you for understanding,” I say sweetly

Of course mate. Now tell me what in this book has you all riled up? He says and I can hear his smirk. 

“A lady never kisses and tells,” I quip back. 

Ahh yes but ladies also don’t let strange men eat them out in secret rooms at balls. He says coolly. 

“Rhysand you little shit!” I laugh down the bond.

Come on my love, I’m dying to know what gets you off… Besides my tongue of course. 

I roll my eyes and try to send the emotion down the bond,  It’s nothing special really, he’s just fucking her, but he’s waited a while to do it so it’s extra steamy. I laugh. 

Poor bastard, I know the feeling. Rhys chuckles and I feel arousal flood between my legs. 

I can’t help but let my hand drift between my legs. Since Rhys touched me at the ball it’s all I’ve thought about (not that I would ever let him know). But suddenly the need for him has been so much stronger, I chalk it up to the mating bond strengthening, needing to be consummated.  I let my hand dip between my panties and I try to keep my emotions from flooding the bond, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing I could get off on his words alone. 

“Subtle Rhys,” I chuckle. 

I don’t need to be subtle, I told you exactly how it was going to go down that night at the ball did I not? 

My heart races and I let my finger on my clit speed up. 

“I suppose you’re right,” I say. 

Are you touching yourself darling? He purrs. 

Shit. 

“No,” I lie. 

You’re a terrible liar and you always have been, he chuckles.  I can feel you, my mate. 

“Damnit,” I curse, pulling my hand from my panties. 

Oh don’t you dare stop now, not when I’m currently fisting my cock. 

The image of Rhysand laying on his bed, naked, glorious and pumping his cock sends a wave of arousal straight through me and I practically scramble to shove my hands into my panties. 

Now tell me, are you playing with that beautiful little clit? The one I licked at the ball? 

Oh I was so in for it with this man, I was so utterly and terribly fucked. 

“Yes,” I admit quietly. 

Then I am terribly jealous of those delicate fingers. 

“Rhys,” I moaned back. It was all I could think about, him. 

Slip a finger in that tight little cunt won’t you darling? 

As stupid as it felt I did it, and god it felt good. Not as good as his felt, but it would have to do. 

“It doesn’t feel as good as you,” I say, trying to play the game. 

I hear him chuckle,  No my dear they don’t and they never will. 

“Are you close?” I ask, feeling my own orgasm coming. 

Let me hear those little begs again and I will be, he drawls. 

I know exactly what he means. After he feasted on me at the ball and I nearly jumped his bones afterwards. When he said he wanted to wait I pathetically let out a whine. 

“Please Rhys, I need you.” I plead. 

Fuck y/n, I hear him moan and it’s enough to make me hit my climax. 

“Oh fuck!” I cry down the bond. 

His own string of curses followed as he came himself and I could picture him lying there, chest sweaty and heaving, the aftermath of his orgasm all over him. It was almost enough to make me reach my hands down my panties again, almost. 

“So mind sex? That’s your thing?” I taunt him. 

A loud chuckle reverberates through my mind, No you’re my thing darling. 

“I’m flattered,” I laugh. 

A moment of silence passes and my chest continues heaving as I crawl further under the covers and blow out my candle. Romance book long forgotten. I sit in the quiet for a little longer waiting for Rhys to say something, until I finally speak up.

“Are you still there?” I ask timidly.

Always, simply catching my breath. How was your day today? 

“Boring, I don’t really have any friends here except my ladies maids and they are all terrible snoops. Tamlin has them in his back pocket.” I sigh. 

Just wait till you meet Nuala and Cerridwen, they’re snoops too. He laughs. 

“I can’t wait to,” I say.

I’m happy to finally hear you say that. He muses and I can practically feel his smile. 

“Well I better get some sleep. If I plan on telling Tamlin tomorrow I’ll need my wits about me.” I sigh. 

Goodnight darling, I love you.

There’s a hopefulness in his words. One I can’t meet. That phrase, ‘I love you’. I knew I should say it back. But I didn’t know what love meant. Didn’t know how it felt. I couldn't bring myself to return the sentiment. 

"Goodnight Rhys," was all I could say.

The next morning I woke up and Tamlin had already left, which was a damn shame because I would’ve liked to have told him before he had gone to fight with Tarquin all day. 

I paced most of the day in the tea room as I was beginning to grow antsy. Last night proved to me just how much I needed Rhysand, physically of course because of the bond. My skin was nearly sweating with need. I tried to read my book but it didn’t do much to help. I tried to go out and pick flowers for the dining table and it got me nowhere. To make matters worse it felt like Tamlin was gone for longer than usual as the darkness slid in, the moonlight shone, and all the lanterns and candles magically were lit.  

I started pacing in the foyer waiting for him to arrive home. Maybe he was taking so long because he had finally reasoned with Tarquin. I thought to myself. But as the doorknob jiggled and a fiery looking Tamlin came in I knew how dead wrong I was. 

“How was your meeting with Tarquin?” I asked, trying to seem sisterly, like that had ever won his affections. 

“Awful! The stubborn brute wants to take part of my land and only give me 20% of its profits per harvest!” he yells storming through the hall. I follow him. 

“20% isn’t bad, maybe you could show him what a generous High Lord you are by accepting the offer,” I chirped enthusiastically. 

“Are you out of your mind?” he whirls to look at me. “20% is cheap sister, not that you would ever have the mind for money. All you know how to do is spend mine.” 

“Tamlin, that's not fair and you know it.” I reason. 

“What does it matter anyways,” he rolls his eyes and begins storming off again. “You’ll be worth your weight in gold once you marry Eris and become his consort.” 

Fire boiled in my veins, “I already told you Tamlin, I don’t want to marry Eris. God how fucking selfish and cruel do you have to be to sell your sister off to a monster?!” I scream and as the words leave my mouth I already regret saying them. I had never been so bold in my life, at least not with Tamlin.

I don’t even have time to react before I feel a harsh slap across my face knocking me to the ground. “YOU ARE MY SISTER AND A WOMAN IN THIS COURT!” Tamlin screams at me. He picks me up by my hair, “and you will not question how I rule it.” 

Tears prick my eyes as the skin of my cheek burns. Tamlin releases my hair dropping my body to the ground and I’m left in a heap of tulle and tears as he slams his door. 

Are you okay? My mate calls into my mind.  

I press my cold hand to my cheek, “yeah I’m fine.” 

No you’re not, you're hurt. 

“I’m fine Rhys, it’s not bad,” I say, pulling myself up off the floor and winnowing to my room. 

What happened? 

I sigh, knowing he’ll badger me until he gets an answer. “I tried to get Tamilin to make amends with Tarquin so that he would be in a good mood and he hit me.” 

He hit you? I could hear him growling, feel the anger down the bond. 

“It’s really fine Rhys, I’m in my room now and I’m safe.” I say trying to calm him down. 

I’m going to fucking kill him y/n. I’m coming to get you right now. I’m not letting you stay there another minute. 

“Rhys please! Stop and be reasonable. If you barrel in right now it’s going to piss Tamlin off even more. He could hurt me or worse. We have to be civil about all this.” I reason with him. 

Fine, but no more after this y/n. I can’t stand it any longer. It’s killing me from the inside out. To know you’re in that horrible place. When you could be safe and warm here. 

“I promise I will figure this out, I just need time,” I assure him. 

I know you will, my beautiful strong mate.

“Tamlin hurry up, we're already late!” Lucien screams from the foyer. It was another council day and I had hoped that Tamilin would finally be able to reason with Tarquin.

Yesterday I went into town to shop for a new dress, it seemed I had exhausted all my other purple ones and I wanted more. I picked out a dress that was a far darker purple than any I had worn before. But it seemed fitting, seemed more Rhysand. 

“Let’s go,” Tamilin ordered entering the room in a huff. He peered at the dress I was wearing, “Purple again? I’d think you’ve grown tired of it by now.” 

Was this really his method of trying to make up for hitting me and yelling at me? Giving me a somewhat backhanded compliment?

“Viviane said that it was my color,” I replied, not entirely a lie. 

He didn’t say anything, just grabbed Lucien and winnowed us to the Night Court. 

I had no clue what to expect from the Night Court. I had never been before today. I had only ever heard stories. Stories of its darkness and its monsters. When we arrived I almost couldn’t believe that this is where Rhysand lived.

The large city under the mountain had a darkness to it, while faelights bobbed all around, it didn’t hide the darkness in the shadows that lingered. The city under the mountain was a metropolis, and it was terrifying with its large spires all around. Every surface is carved with lovely, hideous artwork: figures dance and fornicate, beg and revel. I was surprised Tamlin even allowed me to come with him today. 

We enter into a dimly lit chamber where all the Lords are already seated and waiting for us to arrive, Tamlin apologizes and chalks it up to me taking too long to primp, a lie of course. As my eyes scan the room I see only two chairs open and one happens to be next to Rhysand. I try to hide the smirk on my face as I take the seat next to him, forcing Tamlin to take the other one. 

You look ravishing as always. Croons Rhyand.

“Thank you, the dress is new,” I smile.

New and purple? You flatter me mate. He smirks. 

I chuckle down the bond, “Don’t flatter yourself too much, Vivianne said she liked me in purple as well.”

Well then I’ll have to thank Viviane later. He smiles. 

The council begins and just like I figured Tamlin and Tarquin laid into one another right away. All the other Lords but Rhysand and Kallias chimed in to solve the issue, but the winter and night court Lords seemed content to watch it all play out and I didn’t blame them. It took everything in me to not turn to the side to look at Rhys. His presence was so commanding especially in his own court and I had missed his face, those eyes, so much.

I felt a large hand being placed over my own under the table. 

You’re going to get me in trouble. I gripe at Rhys but flip my hand so I can hold his back.

Shh no one can see, I just wanted to feel you. 

Eventually the fighting dies down as the Lords end up forcing Tamlin to accept the deal Tarquin has offered and I try not to smile as my brother’s pissed off face. Turns out I was right and 20% isn’t such a low number after all. Rhys lets go of my hand to stand and address the room. 

“I think we’ve had more than enough political talk, why don’t we disband.” he states, and it sounds like his voice booms off the walls of the room. 

A murmur of agreement fills the room as the sound of obsidian chairs scratch the stone below, signaling that the lords are getting up. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I feel my stomach pit, is Rhysand stupid? But when I turn around I’m met with the raking stare of Eris Vanserra. 

“Hello my little fox, I was wondering if I might speak to you for a moment?” He asks, and I can practically feel Tamlin staring daggers into the side of my head.

“Yes of course my Lord,” I smile taking his arm. 

We promenade outside the council meeting room and into the hallway. I look up to find faint faelight glowing from large chandeliers, the walls are filled with tapestries and statues of people fucking and begging just like in the rest of the city. Large pillars shoot up from the aisles supporting the large room and I still wonder how Rhys could possibly live here. 

“I’m sorry for taking you away so soon, I know that you love to talk to Viviane, but I just had to see you,” Eris says. 

“No apologies necessary,” I reply, still taking in the sites around me. 

“I know that your brother and my father are still negotiating the terms of our marriage but I couldn’t wait to give you this,” he says before pulling a long black box out of his pocket, and opening it up. 

Inside lies a rather large and beautiful necklace. A huge golden crystal is attached by a string of glittering diamonds. If it was given to me by anyone else I would’ve thought it beautiful, but I knew it’s true meaning, it’s true purpose. It wasn’t just a piece of fine jewelry, it was a collar, meant to show everyone I belonged to Eris now. I took a mental deep breath. 

“Oh Eris, it’s beautiful!” I gasp, running my hands over the chain. 

“I knew you would like it,” he smiled. “Here allow me to help you put it on.” 

I turn around and feel him place the heavy jewel around my neck. The weight of it already making me feel shackled. His fingers dust over the nape of my neck fastening the clasp. He kisses my shoulder when he’s done and I feel his hands gently turning me around so he can see it on me. 

“It looks beautiful on you, like it was made for you,” he smiles, hand caressing my face.

“I love it, thank you,” I say, trying to hide my discomfort. 

“I promise you that when we are officially engaged you will have even bigger jewels,” he smirks, stepping forward even closer, causing me to step back. “And when we’re married even bigger jewels,” He croons and my back hits one of the many pillars. “But I’ll save the biggest and most expensive ones for when you bear me our first son.” he smirks and there’s nothing I can do to stop him from crashing his lips on mine.  

Eris kisses me hungrily and needily as my hands fly to the pillar my back is pressed on, any little movement to keep him farther away from me. His hands drop to wander my waist and I feel the entire room shudder causing pieces of dust to fly up everywhere. Eris pulls himself off of me. 

“What was that?” I ask afraid. 

“I’m not sure, I’ll go check,” Eris replies and he leaves me to run back to the council chambers to confer with the rest of the Lords. 

  I step forward from the pillar and take a deep breath. I start to follow Eris back to the council room but then my skin starts to buzz again and I stop in my tracks. Rhysand’s hands graze up my arms from behind me as he leaves gentle kisses on my neck. 

“That was you wasn’t it?” I smirk. 

“Maybe,” he smiles into my skin. “He had a lot of nerve kissing my mate in my court.”

“To be fair he didn’t know,” I giggle. 

“I don’t care, he was lucky I didn’t rip his head off,” he says, continuing to kiss my neck.

“This place is terrifying, how do you live here?” I laugh.

“I don’t, this place is just where I entertain other Lords,” he explains, kissing my neck still.  

“Then where do you live?” I ask, reaching up to press my hand against his face, encouraging him not to stop. 

He smiles against my skin, “I want you to tell your brother that you’re staying with Viviane again tonight.” 

“Why?” I ask. 

“Because, I finally have you here, in my court. I want you to stay here with me, even if it’s just for one night.” he emphasizes his statement with a long lick up my neck that has my toes curling in my shoes. 

I turn to look at him, “are you sure my brother won’t find out?” I ask, finally looking into those violet eyes I had been missing. 

“I’m positive,” he smiles and his eyes glance down to the necklace. “You weren’t wearing that earlier.”

I roll my eyes, “Eris just gave it to me. He said it was a gift but it feels more like a collar.” I say straightening my shoulders in discomfort from the weight of it. 

Rhysand doesn’t say anything, he just reaches a hand around the back of my neck to unclasp the necklace. I immediately feel the weight fall off into his hand and he looks at it before chucking it somewhere in the room. 

“Rhys!” I laugh.

“Much better now we can see your pretty neck,” he smirks before leaning in to kiss me. I practically melt into his touch.

Because the rest of the Lord ganged up on him, Tamlin left early and just like Rhys asked, I told him I would be staying with Viviane tonight. Tamlin didn’t even bat an eyelash. It wasn’t long until the last couple, Kallias and Viviane, left.  I turned to see Rhys staring at me from across the room with that playful smirk I always wanted to kiss off his face. 

“Are you ready to go mate?” he asked, holding out his arm to mine. 

I took it eagerly, “To go where?” I asked earnestly. 

“To Velaris,” he smiled brighter than I had ever seen him smile before and before I could question further he winnowed us away. 

When the shadows cleared I was in a house. A lush, beautiful and homey house. Thick red wool carpeted the floor, and the walls were made of a rich wood. Comfy chairs and chaises were littered about and a warm fire sprung to life. It looked lived in and loved compared to the mansion in the Spring Court. 

“So this is where you live?” I ask taking in my sights. 

“Yes it is. The place we just were? We call it The Court of Nightmares, that’s where we conduct business to keep up appearances for other courts. But this is where I live, Velaris, the city of starlight.” he explains watching me take it all in. 

I look out a large window and see the golden fae lights of the village beyond. It sits below a large snow capped mountain. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, and it already feels like home. 

“What do you mean we?” I ask. Before I can answer two large crashes come from the terrace outside causing me to jump. 

“I mean my cousin Mor, my second in command and of course Cassian and Azriel.” he says nodding to the doors where the two Illyrians from the ball are waltzing in. “Y/n this is Azriel, “ Rhysand nods to the one with the shorter hair and Azriel waves. “And this is Cassian.” he nods to the one with the longer hair. 

“Ahh yes the one that bites,” I muse. 

“Only sometimes,” Cassian chuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you y/n,” he says, holding out his hand. 

I shake it and my whole hand nearly disappears in his just like Rhysand’s. “The pleasure is all mine, I’ve never met an Illyrian before.” I say looking over his large wings. 

“Then you’re missing out for sure,” he says looking at Azriel who just rolls his eyes.

“Your wings are magnificent, would you mind if I…” my words fall short as I hold up my hand. 

“Touch them?” Cassian asks. “Go right ahead y/n,” he smirks, eyes flitting to Rhys. 

I reach my hand out to graze over the material of his wings, they feel like leather. They are rugged to the touch and I can tell that they have seen many years of battle. I hear what sounds like the snapping of leather behind me. I turn around and my jaw nearly hits the floor. There before me, Rhysand stands with his own Illyrian wings. 

“I have wings too you know,” Rhysand says  as  he tilts his head. 

Cassian erupts into laughter, “Feeling a bit jealous there Rhys?” he jokes. 

Rhys just rolls his eyes and pulls a hand out of his pocket and offers it to me. I take his hand, still too stunned to find Rhys with wings to even speak. 

“We’ll see you two later, I’m going to give y/n the rest of the tour,” Rhysand drawls leading me towards the stairs. 

“Goodnight you two,” Cassian drawls before taking off with Azriel. 

“I didn’t know you had wings” I say, still bewildered staring up at them. 

“It’s not really something I make a spectacle of. I only have them out when I’m going to use them, otherwise they tend to get in the way,” he explains, leading me up the stairs. 

“So you can shift back and forth between having them and not having them?” I ask. 

“Essentially, yes,” he says and shifts back to his wingless form just to prove the point.

“So what was the deal with me touching Cassian’s wings? Is that like taboo or something?” I ask, feeling my cheeks heat up remembering how Cassian smirked at Rhys when I asked. 

“Illyrians can feel through their wings and are known to attack first and ask questions later if they are touched without invitation. It was basically like if you ask if you could touch his abs,” Rhysand chuckles. 

“Oh,” I said, my heart stopping. “Now I feel bad.” 

“Don’t feel bad, Cassian loves teasing me. He let you touch his wings just to watch my face as you did so,” Rhys laughed again, opening a door to our left. “This is one of the guest rooms.” 

I look around at the somewhat dark room, the same lush carpet coats the floor along with the same wooden paneling. It was quaint and perfect. Rhys continued leading us down the hall to show me another guest room which was much like the first just a little bit bigger. He explained that they were the rooms Cassian and Azriel slept in for Solstice. 

“And this is my room,” he explained before opening the door to the last room in the hallway. 

The room is much larger than the other two, the huge bed was made with dark black and purple blankets and pillows. I heard the door close as I continued to explore. The bed sat next to a balcony that had the same view of the living room, the village lit with fae lights and the snowy mountain. To the left was a large bathroom with a bathtub, large enough I realized, to fit Rhysand’s wings. 

“Your room is-” 

“Our room. This is our room now.” he says and I turn to meet his gaze. “I’ve waited so long to see you standing here. In Velaris, in the townhouse, in this room.” 

“And what is it that I’m normally doing in this room, Rhys?” I smile, faking my innocence. 

“Well,” he drawls, stepping closer to me. “It goes a little something like this,” he muses before placing a hand on my cheek and kissing me. 

This kiss is different, less heated than all the others we shared before it. It holds all the passion of what’s to come, what we both know is coming. His hands slide to my waist and I let out a small moan and I can feel Rhys trying not to smile. My hands tangle in his hair pulling him closer as I feel my legs hit the mattress. He pulls me closer to him so I don’t fall and I feel him turn me around so my back is facing him. 

“Normally I would use my magic to take your clothes off,” he says voice low, his hands unlacing the corset in my dress. “But I want to take my time with you tonight,” he continues undoing the last lace. 

I nearly melt at his words, but I feel the dress start to fall and I grab the top of it to keep it from falling down. The dress didn’t allow for any undergarments meaning I would be completely bare to him. 

Rhysand places a kiss on my shoulder, “You’ve never let a man see you naked before have you?” he asks. 

“No I haven’t,” I say shyly. I feel a moment of fear but turn around and let my dress fall to the floor in a giant pile of purple chiffon. Rhysand’s eyes rake down my body and I move to cover my breast with my arms as pink tints my cheeks. 

“Don’t you dare cover those perfect breasts mate,” he says gently, pulling my arms away. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so lucky to call you my mate.” he kisses me again, absolving any fear I have as I feel his hands finally roam my naked body. I push him away lightly. 

“I want to see you too,” I say breathlessly looking into his eyes that are suddenly a darker shade of violet than they were before. 

“As my mate commands,” he smirks, standing back to take off his clothes. His eyes locked on mine, never breaking eye contact until he stood before me completely bare. 

I let my eyes rake down on him. His body ripples with strong and lean muscles, the upper part of his chest and shoulders are covered in swirling tattoos. My eyes dare to travel lower over his abs to his straining cock. All I can think to myself is there’s no way that’s going to fit inside me.

Rhysand chuckles, stepping towards me, “I promise it will fit mate.”

“Shit I said that out loud?” I curse ducking my chin in embarrassment. 

“No you didn’t, but your thoughts were so loud you might as well have,” he laughs tilting my chin up to meet his eyes. 

My eyes drift down to his chest again and I finally let my hands wander the muscles on his chest. His skin soft and smooth under my fingers, I run them up his abs, over his pecs, across his shoulders and down his arms earning a low groan from him. I take his hands and place them on my waist, throwing my own over his shoulders and as I look into his eyes the words just tumble out of me. 

“I love you Rhys,” I breathe. 

“You don’t have to say it just because I said it the other day,” he says almost sadly. 

“I’m not. I love you Rhysand,” I smile. 

A smile spreads across his face, “I love you too mate.” 

His hands pull me closer to him and I can feel my breasts pressing against his chest as he seals our lips again. This time the kiss is more needy as I feel my heart rate pick up. His frame backs me up and I can feel his cock pressing into me making me practically moan into the kiss. 

My legs hit the mattress again, this time he lets me fall onto the bed. I open my eyes and watch his eyes rake down me again, nothing short of a predatory gaze behind them. His knees hit the mattress and he crawls over me, caging me in with his arms. He kisses me deeply and begins to move his lips down my jaw and to my neck again. I can feel his restraint as he tries not to leave love bites all over me. His lips go lower and lower and my chest starts to heave in anticipation of what I think is next. 

“Your breasts,” he says, kissing the top of each one. “Are the most beautiful pair of breasts I’ve ever seen. I should’ve worshiped them the moment that dress hit the floor.” He smirked.

He started kissing the underside of each breast, then the sides and then the tops again purposefully avoiding the one place I wanted his mouth the most, making me squirm. 

“And these pretty pink nipples,” he says before finally taking one in his mouth and suckling. 

“Oh fuck,” I breathe having my back arch into him. His other hand comes up to draw little circles on my other nipple. 

“Dirty mouth mate,” he teases before resuming his menstrations.

My hands fly to his hair as I pull him closer to me needing more of him. Needing all of him. 

“Wouldn’t want this one to think I don’t love it,” he smirks before sucking my other bud into his mouth. 

“Rhys please,” I breathe tugging at his hair. 

“So eager are we mate?”  he says kissing down my body till he gets to my core. He skips over it and sits up, taking my leg and kissing my ankle. He draws a path of kisses all the way down my leg till he reaches the inside of my thigh. He gives me an evil grin before sitting up and beginning to do the same with the other leg.  

“Ugh Rhysand!” I groan, causing him to chuckle. 

“I told you I wanted to take my time mate,” he chuckles against my calf.  “Was there a certain body part you were hoping I would kiss?” he asks suggestively.

“Your favorite part,” I muse. 

“You cruel wicked thing. As if I could ever just choose one part of you to be my favorite.” he says, acting wounded, putting my leg down. He leans into my pussy and places a kiss there running a finger through my folds. “Though I will say that one of my top contenders is this pretty little clit.” he hums lowly before flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves. 

“Ahh,” I scream, my hands going straight to his hair. 

“Precisely why I love it. I love the little sounds you make when I lick it,” he growls before diving in to feast on me. 

“Oh my gods Rhys!” I scream, grinding my hips into his face. 

That’s right y/n I wanna hear everything. We’re not in Beron’s office anymore, scream for me mate. He says into my mind and I do. 

I scream and writhe and moan. My eyes flit down to where his mouth is attached to my pussy. His darkened eyes look up at me watching the pleasure rake through my body. One of his hands comes from my hip and I feel his fingers tease my entrance before he slides one into me. His mouth continues suckling on my clit as his fingers curl to massage that spot inside of me that I didn’t know was there until he touched it at the ball. 

Gods your pussy tastes so good. After we’re officially mated I promise to spend a whole night between your legs eating you out until you can’t move. 

“Rhys!” I scream, his words my undoing as I cum on his tongue. He works me through my orgasm until my legs stop shaking and then he pulls his finger from me. He places a kiss on my clit one last time before moving up the bed. He watches me as he sucks all my leftover cum on his finger off. 

I grab his neck and pull him down to kiss me again. He slips his tongue into my mouth and I can taste myself on him. My hands run down his back feeling the powerful muscles there,  gods I could just sit here and touch him all day. He was as beautiful as I had pictured him that one night not too long ago. He was everything and he was mine. 

“That’s right mate, I am yours,” he said between kisses. Clearly my thoughts we’re projecting again. 

“And I am yours Rhys,” I breathe, and he takes a moment to study my face trying to read if I really mean it, like he thought the words would never leave my mouth.  

“Mine,” he grumbles, connecting our lips again. “Beautiful and perfect and all fucking mine.” 

I feel his cock nudging my entrance and I gasp. I want it, I want all of him, but I’m scared. 

“Rhys I’m scared, I’ve never had sex before,” I say. 

“Don’t worry darling I wasn’t going to push in yet. Do you think you’re ready?” he asks sweetly. 

“Yes I’m ready,” I nod. 

“Okay tell me if it hurts too much and I’ll stop right away okay?” He says, kissing my forehead. 

“I will, I promise,” I assure him, cupping his cheek. 

“Here we go,” he says and I feel the tip of his cock at my entrance and it’s enough to have a large wave of arousal flood between my legs once more. 

He pushes his tip in and I start to feel the burn but I don’t say anything as he slowly continues to push in. I feel him stretching me and the mixture of pleasure and pain starts to take over my body. Once he’s nearly fully inside me I wince and he stops. 

“Shh it’s okay, you’re doing so good my mate,” he coos, kissing my brow. 

“I’m good now, keep going,” I breathe. 

I feel him bottom out inside me and I scream in both pain and pleasure once more. 

“Fuck y/n,” he groans, but he doesn’t move trying to give me time to adjust. I relish how full I feel with him all the way in me and I look down at his arms. His muscles are taught and his veins are nearly popping and I realize it’s taking everything inside of him not to pull his cock out and slam it into me. The thought of him taking me so rough puts butterflies in my stomach. 

“Rhys please move,” I cry trying to rock my hips into him. 

He pulls out a little and thrusts back in and I hold back my cry as he does it again. He starts to build up a good slow tempo and after a while the pain disappears. 

“Fuck you’re taking me so good, you’re doing so good mate.” he groans trying to keep himself from losing control. 

“Harder Rhys,” I whine running my hands through his hair. 

“No I don’t want to hurt you,” he shakes his head watching his cock disappear inside of me looking for any hint of discomfort. 

He’s being gentle, trying to make sure I feel good. But all I can think of are his whimpers and moans from when he stroked his cock a few nights ago, and how desperately I want to hear them again. How desperately I want my pussy to be the thing that draws them from his lips. 

I grab his face and force him to look at me so that he can see how dead serious I really was, “Rhys I want you to fuck me,” I ordered him. 

“Fuck y/n,” his eyes widened and I could see all resolve has left exit his body. 

His hips thrusted into me harder and I strangled cry left my mouth as he continued to fuck me. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room as my nails raked down his back, bringing those moans of his to the surface, I could’ve came right there. 

“Fuck Rhys it feels so good,” I say blissfully. 

“Gods mate how is your pussy so tiny and tight?” he groans into my neck fucking me harder. “You feel so good wrapped around me.” 

I feel his lips crash onto mine again, hips never faltering. I can barely keep our lips attached as he keeps pulling moans from me and all I can think is how utterly his I am. 

“Say it again,” he grits out and I know exactly what he means. 

“I’m yours Rhysand,” I hum. 

“Mine,” he grunts fucking me even harder. 

The new pace has me seeing stars as I grip onto his shoulders leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin. I feel the ever familiar knot in my stomach growing and I’m moments away from cumming with his name on my tongue. 

“Rhys I’m gonna cum,” I warn him and I can see the muscle in his jaw flicker. 

“Me too. Cum with me mate,” he grunts before flicking my clit. I crumble the moment he flicks the sensive bud. 

“OH GOD RHYS!” I scream digging my nails into his back again. 

“Oh fuck y/n,” he groans, hips stuttering as he spills his seed into me. 

We’re a heap of sweat and ragged breaths as he keeps himself propped up as not to crush me. My hands smooth back his hair and I leave sweet kisses on his brow. 

“I love you so much Rhys,” I whisper in his ear leaving a kiss there. I mean every word, my soul so full of love for him that tears prick my eyes. 

“I love you too y/n.” he smiles, pressing our lips together. 

He sits up pulling out of me and I feel a breath escape my lips, disappointed at the sudden emptiness. He sits on his knees and I watch as he stares between my legs. His eyes light up in amusement. 

“What?” I giggle sitting up a little on my arms. 

“I’ve waited forever to have this view,” he smirks. 

“What view?” I ask.

“You, naked, in my bed, with my cum dripping out of your pussy.” he muses, leaning over me again. “Totally and completely mine.” he smiles, kissing me again.

I hum in approval at his words and kiss him harder feeling his skin melt against mine. I try to pour every ounce of love I have into it. The way he kisses me has me seeing stars and I suddenly feel hot again, like I need more of him. 

“Rhys I want more,” I say between kisses. 

“I fuck you one time and you already want more?” he chuckles. “Don’t worry mate, I’m not done with you yet.”

Taglist: @crystalferret202 @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81, @annaaaaa88 , @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @tenaciousperfectionunknown , @judig92 , @aunicornmademedoit, @sharknutz , @slytherintaco , @isa1b2h3 , @nickishadow139 

#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand smut #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand acotar