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#the night court



Part: 2/3 [Part one can be found on my blog under the heading ACOWAC]

Warnings for mature content and scenes of a sexual nature.


It was Azriel’s shadows that he felt first; gentle touches coiling around his neck. A breath caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly, nodding in reply. Yes, yes I will play with you. Those soft caresses turned powerful, strong palms gripped his wrists and in one swift movement, Cassian found himself facing the wall. Confident fingers entwined between his locks and pushed his face against the wall.

He was a weak fool allowing a grunt to escape and the hold on his hair tightened, a hard body pressing against his wings. Wings that opened like the eager submissive he was…. Azriel’s breath ghosted his ear and he exhaled, letting his eyes droop. His hands twitched against the strong hold, fingers tracing some part of Azriel’s body, unhappy with the fabric guarding skin he’d forgotten. He pushed back enough to graze the soft bulge in the Illyrians’ pants. Oh, he’d change that….

“It’s been a while,” was the soft murmur and fingers traced the grooves and curves on his strong wings. Oh, Cauldron… A pitiful moan escaped his lips and he could hear the smirk dripping from Azriel’s words. “I’d forgotten what a wanton whore you could be.”

He swallowed his next groan when Azriel pulled his head back and nipped his earlobe. “Take your shirt off,” was the sleak order and Cassian obliged, removing his sore jaw from the wall along with the irritating fabric that stopped him from feeling all of the Shadowsinger. He chanced a glance over his shoulder, hoping to catch sight of tanned bare skin and maybe some more, but his head was tugged back again, a hand catching both wrists and binding them against his back.

“Az… “ he choked, treacherous body responding to the power he could feel in the shadows that slipped around his shoulders, tickling his tight nipples and sending waves to his cock. He could feel Azriel’s bare chest against his wings, warm and chiselled. He wanted to push his hips against the trail of hair he knew disappeared beneath the other males belt but his damned pants were in the way.

“Something the matter?” was the knowing question and he nodded thinking yes, yes there is. Warm lips kissed the grooves between his shoulder and neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin and making him sigh. “Want help?”

Cassian wiggled his fingers, hooking around Azriel’s belt and tugging his desires. He was rewarded with a deep chuckle, having forgotten until now how the sound of Azriel’s laugh could send blood rushing to his groin. Let me turn around, cauldron, please…

“Let me see that sweet face,” was the order and he turned eagerly, thankful his hands were free to roam and grope whatever skin he could reach. Whatever skin the other male would allow….

Azriel stood just as tall, equally as powerful, but there was always something about the dark Illyrian that made Cassian feel meek and careful beneath his unreadable gaze. Az’s features were elegant edges and gentle ripples over each rounded muscle. Cassian’s gaze fell straight to the line of dark hair that disappeared beneath the shadowsinger pants. He hoped his looks didn’t betray the greed that burned in the pits of his stomach, but the quiet scoff from Azriel told him otherwise. Cassian cursed his treacherous body again. “Can I… just once before…” and he flicked his jaw over to the bed.

Azriel raised a dark brow in response. He reached out to finger Cassian’s belt thoughtfully. “Did you think I was going to strap you down and let you have all the fun?” His marred fingers made quick work of the golden belt, clicking loudly as he undone the buckle, and the swift whip as he pulled it from its confines made Cassian flinch. “Now that’d be no fun at all for me.”

Azriel’s warm lips swallowed any response he could muster and he groaned satisfyingly into the kiss. Cauldron, yes…. Like sighing a breath of fresh air, his chest loosened with every slip of his tongue. Exploring Azriel’s mouth was like rediscovering a lost memory. He remembered the missing tooth after they’d had their first fight in the training camps; he could feel the sharp edge of a recent filling; he moaned at the warm lips around his tongue, pulling gently, then teeth nipping his bottom lip.

Their hips ground together, seeking that much needed friction, and Cassian swallowed a smug sound when Azriel whispered his first longing sentiment since they’d started playing together. His hands found the buttons on the other males pants, fumbling with them and pulling the fly apart, eager to feel the heavy heat he was sure would mirror his own.

“Allow me,” was the husky offer and Azriel expertly flicked open Cassian’s buttons, teasingly lowering the zip and palming the bulge that strained against its hold. “Eager. Always so eager.”

Cassian groaned with frustration, wiggling his pants around his hips and reaching to push Azriel’s down,but the Illyrian swatted him away with a sharp thwack. “Pants off,” was the sharp command and Cassian obeyed, swallowing when Azriel’s fingers slipped beneath the band of his underwear and tugged sharply. “Those too.”

He stood in all his glory, wings shaking with the need to stretch and flex like his erect cock, jutting needingly from his groin and twitching with anticipation. His fingers itched too, not sure what to reach for - the heavyweight between his legs, the swollen bulge in Azriel’s pants… Azriel’s pants which were annoyingly still on.

He chanced reaching for them, fingers just brushing the fabric before Azriel stepped out of reach. “Fuck, Az… come on,” he groaned, half bringing his hands to rub his face but quickly dropping them at the amused look on the other man’s face. So weak, so needy….

“‘Wanton’ is the word you’re grasping for,” was the rich purr and Azriel took the scarf from the bed, smoothing it over his hands. He looked up to meet Cassian’s gaze and licked his lips. “We haven’t even begun and you’re already saluting the ceiling with that cock of yours.” Cassian nodded, eyeing the scarf with excitement he hoped wasn’t vibrating off him. He hardly registered Azriel’s words when the soft material brushed against his bare thigh, ghosting the edge of his balls and he pushed back against the wall, sighing. “Sit down, Cassian, before you buck yourself through the wall. What a sight that’d be for whichever unwilling soul was to pass.”

He didn’t care what Azriel called him as long as that soft teasing material brushed him again. His knees buckled when he hit the side of the single bed - his own bed he noted - and Azriel pushed his shoulders down to meet the mattress. His wings tucked neatly behind him; he fought the urge to expand them and beg for just one more teasing stroke in just the right spot.

“The bed is so small though,” he said instead, motioning with his hands and then cocking his head towards Azriel’s bed. “Let’s put them together. More room.”

“You won’t be moving much when I get started,” was the teasing insight into what lay ahead. The scarf draped just out of reach of his stomach and he reached out to touch, wanting to lower it enough to tease his own self, but Azriel pulled it out of reach and instead stooped to trail a finger along his stomach, drawing teasing swirls up his chest, around his tight nipples and then cupped his chin. Cassian arched into the touch.

“Hands up,” was the deadly whisper.

The scarf was gentle on his wrist but tight enough to hold his arms above his head and attach to the headboard. His knees were bent, at Azriel’s request and he fought every instinct to buck his hips. His cock stood, thrumming with a touch starved ache and he lifted his head to follow Azriel’s footsteps back to the bed.

The Illyrian held a familiar tube in one hand and he tensed with excitement when he saw the equally familiar plug in the other hand. Cassian was sure his bottom lip was shredded from chewing out his frustration.

Azriel’s hazel eyes twinkled when he held out the plug. “So eager. Always so, so eager.” He perched on the edge of the bed - it creaked beneath their weight - and ran a hand along Cassian’s strained muscles; each one twitched and Cassian closed his eyes. “Open your eyes. I don’t want you to miss a thing.”

Cassian obeyed, opening in time to see Azriel’s face close the gap between them and they kissed again. Az’s fingers ghosted between his legs, trailing the sensitive skin around his balls and avoiding every sweet spot. He bucked his hips, desperate for any contact. “Dammit, Az… will you just touch it already,” he broke their kiss, pleaded, the desperation clear in his voice.

Azriel smirked down at him. “Impatient, sweet boy.” He ran the plug, long and thick, against Cassian’s lip and his smirk turned feral. “Care to assist?”

Cassian didn’t needed ordering around. He knew how this went. Parting his lips, the tip of the plug slipped between them and he lapped at the smooth silicone toy, swirling his tongue and lathering the length with his spit. He groaned around the length of the toy, accepting every inch that was offered down his throat. Fuck… He needed to replace the cold object with Azriel’s warm length; wanting to feel the stretch in his jaw and the sharp taste of warm semen pooling down his throat. Azriel pulled the toy out of his mouth with a sloppy string of spit attached and swiped his thumb along Cassian’s bottom lip. His hands slipped between Cassian’s thick thighs, nudging them further apart and the sound of lube squirting from the tube made him shift.

“Patience,” was the soothing reply but Cassian yelped when cool, wet fingers circled his pucker and one finger nudged inside of him. He shut his eyes, moaning with satisfaction.

“Yes,” he sighed, relaxing his lower half with a soft puff as Azriel slipped another finger into his tight pucker. He nodded when ready, accepting the gentle slide of slick fingers working his muscle, twisting, turning, scissoring. They brushed against sensitive areas, never quite reaching that desired target, and he growled his frustrations. Ignoring the deep chuckle, he bucked his hips with each movement, looking down his own body to watch his cock bounce with the rhythm.

Azriel replaced his warm fingers with the cold plug and gently eased it in. “Almost ready,” was the promise and Cassian ground his teeth against the welcoming stretch. The silicone toy brushed right against the spot he desired, making him plead with Azriel to touch him, any part of him.

Strong hands pinned his bucking hips to the bed and Azriel slipped gracefully between his spread legs, large wings brushing Cassian’s outer thighs. With a feral smile, he lowered his head to breath against the sensitive skin and Cassian moaned when a warm heat wrapped around his swollen head. “Yes… oh, yeah…” A skilled tongue slid around his length, plump lips catching the sensitive skin and moving up and down, up and down. Cassian moaned, head flopping to the side and into his pillow. “Azriel… that’s so - oh, please…

His balls tightened; the warmth of Azriel’s mouth, the tongue pressed against his length and the heat of Azriel’s throat swallowing around his swollen head. “Az, I’ll cum if - no, please….” He growled his frustration into the pillow when Azriel released his cock with a wet pop and sat back on his heels to smirk up the bed at him. “You fucking tease,” he spat, glaring at the ceiling, afraid his eyes would well with frustrated tears.

Azriel barked a laugh, bringing his own palm to rub his swollen pants. Cassian’s mood quickly softened when he watched those scarred fingers unfold material and release the heavy cock that had been hidden from him. He wet his lips, instinct making him tug against the scarf that bound his hands. Damn scarf… He looked down the length of his body, passed his swollen cock glistening in the dimly lit room, and watched Azriel’s hand tighten around his own cock, slowly working the length. The skin folded over a plump, purple head, revealing a sleek, wet tip that Cassian wanted to lap at.

He watched Azriel’s knuckles, shifting beneath scarred skin as he tightened his hold, twisting expertly every now and then. His head rolled back and Cassian gaped at the strong jaw, thick adam’s apple bobbing beneath day old stubble. The bed seemed too big now; now that Azriel was so far away and looking so beautiful with his wings spread. “Enough,” he hissed, begged. Fuck it, he needed to be fucked now. Legs over shoulders, against the wall, on his side - anything! “Please, please.

“Please what?”

Cassian struggled against his restraints, almost sobbing with irritation. “Fuck me,” he cried. “Please fuck me.”

It was a swift movement, all muscle and wide wings; Azriel’s pants were pulled off and flung across the room. The plug was removed from his hole and left a wanting emptiness. He tried to scoot down the bed, closer to the delicious bouncing cock that he knew was going to be fucking him in a minute. He lifted his hips, encouraging Azriel to use him, ram him…. Just fucking fuck me.

He hissed at the stretch, so different to the plug - thicker, longer - but so much warmer and heavier and capable of touching all the places he needed. “Yes, Az… yes, move….”. His head hit the board but Azriel pulled him further down the mattress and onto his thick length, passing the ring of muscle and pausing to let him adjust. “I can take it,” he grumbled, wiggling his hips to beg for friction.

He moaned, groaned, cried out with pure elation when Azriel finally moved inside of him, binding their bodies in a tangle of legs and hips and sweat dripping and slipping. His cock bounced freely, the tug as it slapped against his stomach making him ache for a touch. He bit down on his lip as Azriel’s cock hit his sweet spot; his fucking became sloppy and Cassian knew the Illyrian was ready.

Azriel’s face, usually unreadable and controlled, had slacked; mouth open, eyes glazed and almost crossed, breathing laboured with every jerk of his hips. “Cum Azriel. I need to see you cum,” he whispered and in that moment, when the Illyrian pushed forward heavily, tensed, and spilled his warm seed, Cassian cried along with his own pleasure, strings of white semen spurting from his cock and slopping across his stomach.

Azriel slumped forward, head drooped and hair hanging over his eyes. His breathing was heavy and Cassian wanted to reach out and wipe his sweaty hair away. Tugging pointedly at the scarf, Azriel reached out with one hand to remove it and Cassian didn’t hesitate to reach out and touch him. “Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, noticing the shadows that had slid back into place. He lowered his legs and sat up to straddle the bed. Ignoring the pleasurable ache in his backside, ignoring the friction burn on his wrists, he reached out to sweep dark hair from Azriel’s eyes. “Please don’t hide from me.”

Azriel’s hazel eyes met his own, the lust having been sated and the need for release spent, they now swam with hesitation. “I’m sorry if I made you-”

Don’t,” hissed Cassian, cupping the man’s jaw in his palms. He was aware of the fluid that leaked from his body and clung to his stomach but fought the thoughts and brought their sweaty foreheads together. “I have known you for over 500 years and you have never once made me do anything I haven’t wanted to do. I want you , as much of you as I can have, and then some more.”

Azriel’s shadows slipped around his wrists, tickling the burns where the scarf had pulled too tight. “I’m sorry about those,” was the almost silent murmur.

“Come sooth them in the shower with me,” said Cassian, leaning forward to kiss the Illyrians warm lips. He brushed his thumb along his kiss, planting one more before nudging them both off the bed. He loosened his wings and ruffled them, reaching out to catch Azriel’s hand and brushing his thumb along his knuckles.

A warm smile was his reply and the scarf remained hanging loosely from the bedpost.

…to be continued…

1 notes


There is another reason why Rhys fought so hard and suffered for so long to protect Velaris. When his mother was brought to the town for the first time she fell in love with it more than she had with anything, or anyone. The only people who meant more to her than the city were her children. Rhysand and Velaris.

She loved the town so much that the first chance she was given by her controlling husband, she named her child, her daughter after the town that had given her the freedom she had so desperately wanted. And when someone asked her what she loved most she could always answer with Rhysand and Velaris being her joint two favourite things, yet only the inhabitants of Velaris knew the true meaning behind her statement. Without the town she would never have had a long enough life to have her two children.

And when she and Velaris were murdered seeing the town that his mother had loved enough to name a child after allowed Rhysand some peace. Knowing that he might not have been able to keep them safe, but he would keep Velaris safe for the rest of his days. That was the real reason why he put up with Amarantha for all those years, that was why he fought so hard to keep his town safe, that was why it was such a hard choice for him to make when he decided to tell the human queen about the town. He didn’t want to risk the memory of his mother and his sister. He didn’t want to risk Velaris.

25 notes

Thought these might maybe be appreciated. Fan-collage for Kushiel’s Dart, Mandrake House.

1 notes

A Court of Bodyguards and Side Glances
An AU story where Tamlin is dangerous (and super evil), the Inner Circle run a PI/bodyguard firm (who are hired to protect Feyre from Tamlin), and I probably make way too many references to how perfect Rhys’ voice and body are (because…okay, that doesn’t really need explanation, does it?). Because I felt like writing it.

Part One | Masterlist | AO3

Feyre is not happy as she sits in the diner and watches Rhys eat a greasy hamburger—well done, with an extra slice of cheese and extra bacon, she mentally tallies, remembering Rhys’ order after they sat down.

Sat, she thinks with a hmph, or got tossed down into the seat in her case. She leans back in her seat with her most displeased expression, lips drawn down into a full scowl and eyes narrowed as her arms are crossed over her chest and she refuses to have any of the soda and fries Rhys treated her to. She’s absolutely not going to cooperate, she thinks, not after the way this day is going. She’s got a mind to let Rhys have it, if she’s being perfectly honest. What she’d really like to do is leap across the table and—and—okay, Feyre’s not sure what she’d do, but she’d sure as hell do something and it wouldn’t be something that Rhys would enjoy.

She doesn’t think.

Feyre watches Rhys take a giant bite of his greasy, overstuffed burger, chewing silently, and feels a little of the steam give way, just a tiny bit, to her own curiosity. She’s surprised with herself when she actually asks the question. “So, how does it work, then?”

Keep reading

22 notes

Nessian Flirting Tactics

Cassian: Kiss me if I’m right, but isn’t your last name Archeron?

Nesta: I don’t know the answer to that question.

Cassian: I know that’s a lie.

Nesta: Well, I’ll legally change it before answering your question.

Cassian: You can change it to mine to save you time later.

167 notes