#acosf fanfiction

[itsphoenix0724]

Promises (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain

Word Count: 1.7k

Part 2

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3

You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.

It’s been a long week. 

It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain. 

You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from. 

“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat. 

“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor. 

“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful. 

You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.

“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you. 

“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either. 

“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct. 

“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body. 

“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own. 

“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired. 

“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented. 

“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you. 

“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours. 

“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs. 

“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid. 

It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth. 

“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning. 

“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?”  You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you. 

“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. 

“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table. 

“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too. 

“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body. 

“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag. 

“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”

“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.” 

“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being. 

“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went. 

What the fuck had he done?

#acomaf #acotar #acowar #acotar imagine #acosf fanfiction #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand imagine

[oliviajdjarin]

Azriel Shadowsinger: Sex Habits

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Summary: Headcanons (more like a bunch of imagines) about how Az treats his mate in the bedroom and otherwise.

Warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut, smuuuuuuut. Azriel is a switch, so is reader, swearing, lord of bloodshed cameo. This is pretty fucking dirty.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Thank you @cherryjain17 for this amazing, inspiring request. I hope I did it justice.

SJM Masterlist

If you would like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated &lt;3

(pic from pinterest)

Morning

-I am of the opinion that Azriel fucks you differently depending upon the time of day.

-Let's start with morning, shall we?

-Azriel is a scheduled, reliable male. Training in the morning, always, no matter the night he had before. He owed it to his High Lord to always be ready for a fight - physically, and mentally. His constant, consistent training was how he maintained that.

-However, what Rhys didn't know about what he partook in before training wouldn't hurt him.

-When Az would wake in the morning next to your - usually naked - sleeping, curled, warm body, hair sprayed across the pillows, scent unique to you filling his lungs, face painted in pure elation and serenity...

-...yeah, he would get a little hard.

-The best was when you would wake up with him, eyes dull with sleep, but their color still bright. A small, languid smile on your face. He couldn't help but touch you in that moment, his body begging him to satisfy every sense he had with the feeling of you.

-He would begin with your face, dragging the knuckle of his pointer finger across your cheekbone. Opening his palm to feel the entirety of your cheek. Tracing down the column of your throat with his pointer finger. Painting across your collarbone with every digit. Cupping your breasts delicately, fondling them, massaging them. Dragging fingers down the center of your stomach, heating up every inch of it before finally...

-...yeah, I think we get it.

-The interesting thing about sex in the morning with Azriel is that, although it begins slow, he goes fucking fast in the mornings. Pounding his fingers into you over and over again, your cum dripping down his fingers and wrist. When he finally tastes you, it's a feast. Sloppy and wet and messy and you're groaning and he's smiling so fucking big. He gets you right on the edge of euphoria before pulling back and pressing a quick kiss to your lips and turning you around, face pressed against your soft pillow, and plunging himself inside of you without a drop of mercy.

-(All of this happens within minutes because, like I said, he's got a schedule to keep).

-As he ravages you, pumping in and out and in and out faster than your brain can process, he fucking sweats. It drips down his back, down his face, across his lips, down his chest, everywhere. Your still drowsy body loves when you scrape your nails down it, coating your palms with it and fucking up his previously clean, fluffed hair with it.

-The finest, perfect part about his sex in the morning is that, even though it's rough, quick, rabid, he holds you close the entire time. He cradles your head in his forearms, litters your spine in passionate, lingering kisses, holds your hips like a cracking sculpture, caresses your scalp, thighs, and lower back.

-It is a paradox; rough yet gentle, greedy yet giving, horrid yet beautiful, quick yet endless, and hateful, yet some of the most loved you ever feel by him.

-When he finishes, and you finish multiple times, he departs you with only a kiss, and rushes down the stairs to make it in just enough time for Cassian to not suspect anything.

-He gives you smirks and winks all day anyway, much to your chagrin.

Afternoon

-Around mid to late afternoon is when Azriel tends to get an itch.

-An itch to step away from it all: his desk, his tasks, his responsibilities.

-Sometimes this itch can be scratched by something simple: a walk around Velaris, or a flight, a cup of cocoa, or even a quick nap.

-Other times, however, this metaphorical itch can only be scratched by the exclusive, spectacular taste of his mate.

-And luckily for you, Azriel is the fucking king of quickies.

-He finds you within minutes, utilizing the convenient bond cemented in his very bones, and conveys his desires with only a look.

-Some days, you decline. Too busy with work, too tired from a night previous, or just plainly not in the mood.

-On these days, Azriel understands. He leaves you respectfully, always with a short kiss and a silent promise of "later" permeating in the air.

-On the days where you do accept, however, is when Azriel truly lights on fire.

-The caveat to quickies with Azriel, however, is that he cannot risk any...leakage onto his clothing. Whether that be cum, spit, or otherwise.

-Frankly, you couldn't either. The both of you took your jobs and professionalism too seriously.

-Which is what makes these quickies so fucking good.

-He kisses you, hard, and lifts you under your ass against his waist to press you against a nearby wall, covering the both of you in shadow. He kisses you until your head spins before unzipping whatever top you have on, and claiming the shit out of your breasts.

-Gods how he loves your breasts.

-He kisses and licks, nibbles and bites, marks and marks and marks you all over your chest and ribcage, whispering words dripping in honey.

-"All mine, these are all mine, aren't they?"

-"Never going to get enough of these - enough of you."

-"I can hear your heart, baby. Need a break?"

-"Fuck you," you respond, your matching smiles and shining eyes giving away your infectious joy.

-He kisses your tits long enough to make your mouth go dry from hanging open so long, before finally making his way up to your throat, whispering "mine" along the column.

-Never leaving a mark.

-He kisses around your pulse, and sometimes you kiss around his as well, before finally recolliding his mouth with your own, and kissing you like a male starved. Mapping you like a cartographer exploding a new land. Rejoicing in the mix of your skin and your mouth on his tongue like a male on his knees in prayer.

-You would think just kisses from him wouldn't count as a quickie, but with how thoroughly and religiously and hungrily he does, you come close to release every time.

-The both of you counted it.

-On days when his cartography becomes too much to bare, or the ego in your chest roars at the thought of him getting you so close to release by just his kisses, your fingers finagle their way to the tent growing in his pants, and palm him through the leather.

-Azriel felt that, as long as your mouth was not on him, he could control himself. The bar of professionalism would be met, and the risk of leakage would be next to none.

-But you have never been one not to test a theory, especially in the name of science.

-You palm him so wretchedly ferociously and savagely that you can practically sketch the exact curve, vein, and girth of his bulge. That's how hard he gets through his pants. You wonder if there is any blood left for his brain.

-You even push him away from you and lick him through the leather, never enough to stain his pants, but enough for him to feel the heat of your tongue cupping his balls and dragging across his dick.

-Still, he never comes, not once; however, that didn't mean he didn't retaliate.

-On days when you'd suck him off this way, he strikes back like a true Illyrian warrior.

-Unforgiving, and calculated.

-He guides you away from him, and does the exact same thing to you.

-Fingers you through your pants, pressing the fabric so taught against your clit you thought you would explode, before pulling his hand away, and replacing it with his mouth. Licking your folds through the fabric, nudging your clit with his nose, devouring and consuming you through the protection of one tiny piece of fabric.

-The mix of heat and fabric is so delicious that, every time, he leaves you near tears.

-He pulls away from you slowly, makes sure you can stand on two feet, and with one last kiss to your cheek, he backs away from you.

-"Later," he whispers, one of his shadows drying the tears staining your hot cheeks. "I want more of you later. I want more of you always."

-You always somehow return to the task you were attempting to accomplish previously, mind puddy, hands shaking, and breasts deliciously sore.

Night

-So yes, Azriel likes to fuck you fast. Leave you wanting more. Drooling for him. Pooling on the floor. Left on shaking knees. Departing from you with only a few words.

-But his favorite, most beloved way to fuck you is to make love to you. Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you love.

-And that is how he does it at nighttime.

-But, I am getting ahead of myself.

-After long days of meetings, missions, planning, or even just boring paperwork, there is nothing he adores more than a quiet, serene dinner with you. He enjoys cooking the meal himself, usually making something one of you has mentioned having a recent craving for, and absolutely beaming when you finally walk through the door.

-You join him in the kitchen, and immediately wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He holds you close, breathing in the products in your hair, and kissing the top of your head.

-"How was your day?" you ask him.

-He's honest. Somedays he says "good," somedays he says "okay," and somedays he just sighs.

-You don't usually ask him to elaborate on those days unless you get the feeling that he wants to, but no matter what, he always asks you the question back.

-You are always honest with him too.

-After that, he finishes off dinner, and the two of you eat. Some nights it's full of conversations, sometimes superficial, like how the weather has been, but sometimes they're deep. Deep enough that sometimes he wonders if your words are able to reach inside of his brain and stroke it, hitting it exactly where he needs to be challenged, praised, or questioned.

-It was unreal every time, how well you knew him.

-Other nights, however, were coated in comfortable silence. Maybe you were both too tired to talk, or too content, or couldn't think of much to say. He never minded. If there was anything he could appreciate, it was happy, wonderful, comfortable silence. It was a sign that his day had come to an end, he had kept his Court and his people safe, and he had done at least something right.

-And what better way to bask in the safety of silence than with the person who knows you better than anyone, and the person you have more love for than stars in the sky.

-After the two of you have full stomachs, he always leads you to your shared bedroom by his arm, and pushes your chair in for you.

-Your face heats every time. Without fail.

-So does his.

-He leads you to the bedroom and kisses you once, twice, three times, before departing to take care of the dishes. He pictures how you make the mundane, simple task of getting ready for bed so godsdamn beautiful: your face cleaned, your hair refreshed, your breath newly minted, and your shoulders and jaw relaxed. A timeless beauty. A vulnerable sight, only for him.

-He finishes up and heads back to you, hands clean and soul at ease. He finds you already in bed; maybe reading, maybe writing, maybe already closing your eyes.

-He gets ready for bed himself, making sure his teeth and tongue are brushed thoroughly.

-Some nights, that is it. He joins you in bed and you drift off together, holding each other close at the beginning of the night, and closer in the morning. Smiles on your faces. Soft snores escaping you. Bodies breathing in sync.

-But not most nights.

-Most nights, after him joining you in bed, you pull him in, and kiss him so softly he barely feels it.

-But it's there.

-"Touch me, Azriel," you whisper, "and let me touch you."

-And he lets you.

-The kisses start soft, just lips on lips, before your tongue breaks his lips apart, and your bodies begin to warm up. Either he lays you down on your back or you push him down, either way, one of you gets on top of the other, and the two of you begin to do nothing less than venerate each other.

-So much kissing, so much feeling each other up and down; down each other's backs, across each other's faces, through each other's hair, across each other's stomachs, and so much breathing and groaning against each other's skin.

-This is all before a scrap of clothing comes off.

-When it does, however, Azriel undresses you like a nurse would undress a wound. Almost in slow motion, so he can take a peek at how every inch of your body looks that day. Maybe you gained a bruise, a scratch, a freckle, or a stretch mark. Either way, he wanted to make note of every inch of your body, memorizing every way your skin moved or wrinkled, your muscles flexed. He needs the image of you in his mind constantly updated.

-You do the same to him. Collecting every change in his body and adding them to his mental schema.

-When all of your clothes are finally off, and his mate stands before him completely raw, is when he begins to lose control of his mouth.

-"Gods, have you always looked like this?"

-"So warm, so soft."

-"How come every time I see you, I feel like I've spent my entire life blind?"

-His claim of never needing to resort to poetry holds true, but that doesn't mean he isn't damn good at it.

-After minutes and minutes of leaving hickeys, kisses, and indents on each other, so much so that both of your lower stomachs have begun to boil and your lungs are gasping for air, is when Azriel pulls away.

-"Can I?" he asks as he presses his forehead against yours, his hazel eyes glowing and his bulge pressed against your slick. You nod, smiling, and with one last kiss, he slides home.

-And fuck does he go nauseatingly slow.

-Even if you're on top, he ensures you pierce yourself with him with purpose, sliding his dick all the way in, all the way out, and all the way in, over and over and over.

-It was fucking heaven how well he fit in you, how he got you so wet you didn't even need to try, how deep his dick goes inside of you...

-...and how he has no qualms about never shutting the fuck up.

-Especially when you're on top - the view of you sliding him in and out of you, your body fully open to him to admire, and face at his disposal to kiss and whisper into.

-"My mate, oh my mate."

-"Right there, do you feel that? Fuck you take me so well."

-"My gods look at us, look at me in you."

-"You like that? Right there? I fucking love you. My mate. My love. My soul."

-As I said, poetry.

-One thing he never fails to take advantage of is the full-length mirror leaning against your wall, giving the both of you the perfect menu of angles to view yourselves.

-I think you know where this is going.

-"Look at us, baby. Look at us."

-"You're so fucking beautiful."

-"Look at yourself when you take me inside you."

-He goes on and on, drunk on the feeling of you, diminishing him of any sort of filter.

-I cannot imagine any reason you would want to shut up the most private, silent male in all of Prythian while he's sprouting sweet nothings to you, but if you do, there's one surefire way to do it.

-Reaching out your pointer and middle finger, only two fingers are necessary, and tracing thin lines down the veins in his wings.

-Never will you ever see him go so silent so quickly. His cheeks instantly redden and his voice escapes him. His cock begins to twitch inside you, his grip on either you or the sheets becomes so fierce his scarred knuckles turn a milk white, and his mouth falls open.'

-He becomes immediately and totally helpless.

-The two of you begin to fuck harder then, chasing the high the both of you are so close to, fucking into each other faster and faster and faster until finally you are coming on his cock, and he is spraying across your thighs.

-Finding release with a mate is different than any other - it is blinding, hot, and immeasurably pleasurable. It fills every vein in your body with a molten rapture, forcing you to collapse into his body, and his own to collapse onto yours. The bond within both of your chests throbbing in delight like a second heartbeat.

-After a few moments of you practically regaining consciousness, his warm, sweat covered body begins to move against you, making sure your head is comfortable on a pillow and your body is flat. He then presses kisses all across your face, etching a smile onto your face.

-"I still believe," he whispers against your temple, "that I will never get enough. I love you I love you I love you."

-The smell of sex and sweat vanquishes your nostrils as you stand up and head to the bathroom, Az's eyes burning holes through your skin.

-By the time you return, Azriel's arms are open to you, and you tuck yourself in. He holds you impossibly close, his miniscule chest hair rubbing against your cheek. His wings add a second layer of protection.

-Your body begins to fade, but your mind lingers a little longer to process one final statement whispered into your hair.

-"Gods, never allow me to be parted from her."

Taglist: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy@seraphqueen @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @xxpeachyxo @evlyncelia @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @redhighlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @mystic-sculptorture @wolfyland7 @are-y0u-serious-blog @hilism @tooobsessedsstuff @simplysensual @hernameispa @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5 @saphiraprince22 @azsazz��� @thatonespriteobsessedbitch​ @moisyinfluencerstrawberry @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​ @azsazz

#azriel x oc #huge azz #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf fanfiction #sjm books #crescent city #throne of glass imagines #cassian fanfic

[talkfantasytome]

As You Wish - Part 1

Nesta has a small procedure and is stuck with Cassian being the one to drive her to and from. Little does she know he's planning on sticking around all day to take care of her.

Warnings: Fluff | Word Count: 2,418 | Read on AO3

Nessian Masterlist

a/n: Written for Day 4 of @sjmromanceweek - Little Things

Beep…beep…beep…

The incessant sound was music to Cassian's ears as he sat by Nesta's bed, the only sign that she was still alive, still breathing.

Her body was entirely motionless. Any movements spreading from the rising and falling of her chest were barely visible from where he was, her back to him. Apparently, the procedure called for her being laid on her side, and they didn't let visitors sit on that side of the bed. The nurses needed access there.

It had Cassian tapping his foot and rubbing his hands against his legs as he waited. She'd been out of the procedure room for over ten minutes now. How much longer was he expected to wait patiently? At what point was he allowed to worry?

He pulled out his phone and texted Az. She's still not awake.

Didn't she just go in? Az asked back, likely over the frequent updates Cassian's been giving. He wasn't allowed in the prep area initially. They'd made him stay in the waiting room until Nesta had gone into the procedure room. Only once she was back out after the procedure did they let him go back there. Likely checking to make sure Nesta felt safe with him.

It was good how the doctors would separate their patients from others and ask about their safety at home. How they'd find a way to ensure the patient had all the control over who was allowed to be with them when and where. He liked that they did that.

He liked even more that he'd been granted access to the prep room once she was back. That she'd allowed him in. Considering how hard Nesta had tried to find someone else to be her ride, he figured she would keep him as far away as possible for as long as possible.

She's been out for at least ten minutes, he typed into his phone. It was his best chance at distraction.

I'm not dignifying that with a response.

Dick.

Cassian rolled his eyes and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Fine, he would wait without any support from his brother. He'd just watch Nesta.

It was one of his favorite pastimes.

Her golden brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun, strands of hair poking out from her hairband. Cassian had nearly lost it when he showed up that morning, seeing Nesta in a hairstyle other than her pristine braided coronet. Her hair was always so immaculate. Even at the end of the day, the wisps of hair that had fallen out of her standard updo always looked purposeful. But this, this was disheveled and honest. It said, 'This procedure is far too early for me to do anything but brush my teeth and put on leggings,' and Cassian loved it. Almost as much as he imagined he'd love her hair down.

Maybe he'd get the chance to see that today, too.

A nurse came to stand at the computer in front of Nesta's bed, checking that and her monitor. "Should be any minute now," she said to Cassian, her eyes relaying the kind smile she was offering him behind her mask. "Remind me who you are? Her boyfriend?"

Cassian's heart fluttered at the comment, the possibility. And nearly broke as he answered honestly, "No, just a friend."

That's all he'd ever been. For years. Sure, he wanted more. He'd be an idiot not to. Nesta was everything he'd ever wanted. Sharp, funny, challenging, devastatingly beautiful. It wasn't for lack of trying, though. He'd been flirting his little heart out since the day he met her three years before. Sometimes she reciprocated, other times she may as well have kneed him in the balls with how she responded. And then there were the times when he showed her all he was, when he took off his funny-guy mask and let her see his true self. And every time she'd offer the same, revealing a soft filling within a shell of iron. It was gorgeous, and gave Cassian the hope everyone told him he was a fool for holding on to.

"I'm sure she's glad you're here," the nurse said in her soft voice. Cassian wasn't so positive. "When she wakes up, she'll likely be a bit disoriented, but she should come to relatively quickly. It wasn't general anesthesia, so her mind won't be too cloudy."

He nodded just as the monitor's beeping quickened slightly. And then her body stirred. It was barely a twitch, but it was some form of movement. A sign of life, of growing consciousness.

Cassian still couldn't see her face, but her head moved a bit, and then the nurse was speaking. "Hey there," she said gently.

Nesta must've opened her eyes to prompt that from the nurse. Right? Those storm cloud eyes that haunted every one of Cassian's dreams. Mother above, he wished she would turn and face him. That he would get to look into those eyes, that perfect face, make sure she was truly okay.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked after a long silence.

"Fine," Nesta replied in a sleepy, scratchy voice. "My throat…"

"Yes, it will likely be sore for a day or two," the nurse explained. "If it's still sore by Monday, please let us know. Would you like to try and sit up?"

Cassian watched Nesta's head move up and down. The nurse walked over to the other side of the bed and helped her, adjusting the bed so that the head would be propped up a bit. Nesta grunted softly, as if the movement took more effort than normal. But soon enough she was settled against the pillows and sitting up enough to be able to turn and see him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice remaining groggy.

He gave her a crooked grin as he said, "You let me in, sweetheart."

Nesta rolled those grey-blue eyes, shaking her head at him. A very Nesta reaction, which likely meant the sedative was wearing off quickly. It warmed Cassian's heart, even as she replied, "Next time, I'm taking the bus."

"Good luck with that," he chuckled. She didn't respond, switching her focus back on to the nurse who was now asking her if she'd like something to eat.

The nurse grabbed her the Cheez-Its Nesta requested after being given a list of the options, and then began chatting with her as she undid the wires and all that was attached to Nesta. "So remember, you'll need to take it easy today. No driving or operating machinery, and you shouldn't work. You should have mild side effects, maybe a bit of bloating. I'd suggest eating smaller meals today. You might feel some slight nausea, but if you can't keep anything down please let your doctor know immediately. But you should be okay, it's one of the reasons we give people some food after the procedure."

Nesta was nodding along, listening fairly intently, but her eyes kept darting to Cassian, who was watching her shamelessly. He didn't care what anyone thought, she was the one who just had the procedure. He could hear the nurse and keep his eyes on Nesta at the same time.

"Once you're ready to get up let me know, we'll leave the space so you can change," the nurse continued. "And then you can go into the office and wait for the doctor."

"I'm ready!" Nesta said, sitting up straighter. The nurse panicked slightly as Nesta started fidgeting with the railing on the bed, attempting to get it to go down.

"Hold on," the nurse sighed, rushing over. "Let me help you." She folded the railing down and then held out a hand for Nesta. At first, Nesta didn't accept the offer of help. But the second her feet were on the floor and she was putting weight on them, she was reaching out for that hand, for a steadying weight. "Sir, if you can wait on the other side of the curtain?"

Cassian let out a small chuckle, gaining Nesta's attention. "Sure you don't want my help, sweetheart?"

"Why don't you go warm up the car," Nesta spewed out, sounding more like a grumpy child than the ice queen she typically perfected.

"As you wish." He bowed his head slightly and then smirked over at her as her eyes narrowed at him. No doubt she was attempting to understand his meaning, to decide if the quote from one of her favorite movies was purposeful.

He was always purposeful with Nesta.

"What are you doing?" Nesta demanded as she saw Cassian turn off the car, remove his seatbelt, and open his door.

"Getting out of the car?" he said in more of a question than a statement. He shut his door again, cars flying past them faster than they should be going in her neighborhood. Philly drivers.

"Why?"

He cocked an eyebrow up at her. "To help you out and get you into your apartment."

"I'm fine Cassian. I don't need your help. I only needed the ride because it was required." And that was the truth. Nesta felt perfectly fine. Maybe a bit hazy. Enough that she could admit to herself she did need someone else driving her home, but she sure as hell wouldn't say that out loud. To Cassian.

She took off her own seatbelt as he shook his head and sighed, "Too bad, sweetheart."

Gods, he moved fast. Before Nesta could step out of the car he was already at her door, holding it open and offering a hand to her. One she certainly did not take. But damn it, she couldn't stop him from grabbing her bag out of his car before she could. He'd likely hold it hostage, force his way into her apartment just so he could annoy her all day.

"Are your keys in here?"

"Don't go through my bag!"

"I never would, Nes," he said as he closed the car door. He let out a mockingly offended scoff. "Without your permission. Though that reaction does make me more curious."

Nesta could've growled at him. Well, sadly, she couldn't, because that wasn't exactly a skill most humans had. But if she could… Perhaps her cat would. Instead, she just snatched the bag out of Cassian's hand, losing her balance for a second. But Cassian was there, a gentle hand at her arm, helping her stay upright. It had Nesta's face heating.

To keep him from seeing that, she fished her keys out of her bag and started toward the door, beginning the dance with her door. Did she get the right key for the right lock? She almost never got it right on the first try, with three identical keys used for the four locks she had to get through. Her landlord sure hadn't made it easy to access her second floor apartment in the converted townhouse.

He stopped her from closing the front door on him, making Nesta roll her eyes. "You really don't have to come in."

"I do," he disagreed. "Someone needs to make sure you get settled and are doing okay today. Make sure you drink enough water. All that."

"Cassian."

"Nesta," he countered. He held her gaze, matching her ice with the fire that was always sparkling in his eyes. Gold flakes danced in the sea of hazel, drawing her in, holding her stare captive.

She took a deep breath, steadying her mind before it danced off into the fantasies she tried to ignore. Then Nesta sighed a small, "Whatever," and turned to open the second door. She ignored the massive grin he put on at her response, already feeling the weight of the sleepiness beginning to build.

It took barely three minutes for Nesta to hang up her coat, remove her shoes, and find herself on her small sectional couch, nestling in to the chaise part. Her cat was even quicker to hop up and snuggle next to her.

Cassian was slower to make his way into the living room. After another few minutes he finally showed up, pillows from her bed in hand. "I thought you might like to have these," he explained, placing them next to Ataraxia, who started at the sudden wind rustling her silver fur.

Nesta nodded her agreement. They'd be useful if she actually decided to lie down.

Cassian walked in front of the couch and grabbed at the handle beneath the mid-section, pulling to bring out the pop-up part that turned the couch into a queen-sized bed. She lifted an eyebrow at him, making him chuckle as he said, "So you can spread out as needed. Are you comfortable? Warm enough?"

"I'm fine, Cassian," she breathed, even as she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Sure you are." He lifted her legs to get the electric blanket from under her feet and then spread it across her. "What setting do you like, again? Four?" Nesta nodded softly, the throes of sleep already setting in. She could feel her eyelids beginning to fall as Cassian clicked the blanket on and fiddled with the settings. "I'm going to do a quick grocery run for you. Anything special you want?"

"I have food," Nesta mumbled.

Cassian let out a chuckle that sent a chill up Nesta's spine. "You have snacks and an absurd amount of chocolate."

It took nearly all her remaining strength to roll her eyes, but it was worth it to display just what she thought of his comments. She was fine on food. So what if she ate take out every night? That just meant she was eating good food every night. But whatever, she was too tired to bother trying to stop Cassian. Though, if he's really here to serve her, she started to realize, she might as well milk it. "Can you get my Comfy before you go?"

The grin on Cassian's face when he handed her the plush, light purple wearable blanket was almost too much for her. The way his eyes crinkled as his lips curled upward, how they seemed to sparkle even brighter. It was the last thing Nesta needed to see. It was the first thing she wanted to see every morning. Traitorous mind.

Nesta snatched the Comfy out of his hands, but his only reply was a soft and kind, "Get some rest. I'll be back before you wake." He really needed to stop doing that.

She'd barely gotten the blanket on before sleep completely took over.

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @imsointobooks @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @shinya-hiiragi @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @dealfea @bridgertononmymind @daydreamer-anst @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @hiimheresworld @c-e-d-dreamer @kale-theteaqueen @charming-butt-insane @charliespringsleftconverse

a/n: Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list!

There will be a part 2 to this. This was meant to be just a one shot, but someone is bad at time management and she wanted to get something posted on the right day. XD

#sjm romance week #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #fluff #just fluff #acosf #acosf fanfiction #cassian x nesta #a court of silver flames #modern au

[azrielsoulmate]

Hello! Can I request a cute late night cuddle Drabble with mate!azriel?

Hi! Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you like it :)

It's the first ever thing I wrote on here, so please be nice and let me know your opinon! Also, English is not my first language so I apologize if I made any mistakes

warnings: none

genre: fluff

word count: 803

Midnights with you

Velaris was beautiful as ever, and as you walked back from Rita’s with your mate in the middle of the night you couldn’t help but listen to the distant sound of music from the Rainbow. The thing about the city of starlight was that it never slept, the bustle and noise never really seemed to die out. You looked up at Azriel, who in one hand held yours, and in the other your heels. He smiled at you, and it was one of those smiles reserved for you only.

“Are you sure you can walk after all that dancing? Shall I carry you?”

You couldn’t help the blood rushing to your cheeks at his care, but you shook your head and held his gaze. Azriel however didn’t exactly seem to have believed you as he, without uttering a single word, took you into his arms in one swift movement, eliciting a surprised yelp from you.

“You didn’t have to do that, you do realize I am perfectly capable of walking on my own?”

“Well, flying is faster” he smirked as you held him a little tighter as he soared through the midnight sky

“Stupid bat” you murmured and a fake pout appeared on his face, to which you sent love and a little amusement through the bond.

As you got home and readied for bed, you saw him prepare tea in the kitchen while humming one of his favorite songs.

“Az?” he quickly turned to face you, his eyes filled with only love and adoration

“Yes, sweetheart?” “I don’t really want to go to sleep yet” “Oh? Any other activities for us you had in mind?” he said and you threw a cushion from the couch you were sitting at at him

“Not like that!” he didn’t even blink as he caught the cushion mid-flight “And yet I made you blush, no?” you frowned at his antics

“Just come to bed, Az”.

You walked up the stairs to your bedroom, put the night light on and tucked yourself in. In a couple minutes your mate walked in smiling lightly seeing your tired form “Don’t want to sleep yet, huh?” he chuckled and handed you your tea as he walked around the bed to get on his side. You yawned and downed the tea in one sip, placed it on the bedside table and turned to meet the amused gaze of Azriel. “Hm?” you asked, your voice laced with sleep

“That was quick” he replied, his hazel eyes burning into you. He placed his still untouched tea aside and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. You smiled, breathing in the smell of sandalwood and asked “What about your tea?”

“I prefer holding you over tea, sweetheart” you placed your face into his chest hiding the blush that threatened to slip onto your cheeks.

“Stop the teasing or I might actually start to believe you like love me or something” he pulled you even closer to him, his hold on you was firm, yet still gentle, as if afraid that you would disappear from his arms if he didn’t hold you close enough

“You know I love you more than anything” his tone was deadly serious and you blinked in surprise, because you two were the kind of couple to constantly tease each other.

You sent him love down the bond, and he kissed your head. He was well aware that you were only ever joking around, but the mere thought of you not knowing how much he cares about you made his heart ache. Because he would do anything for you, and you weren’t aware of the scale of that promise, of the fact that a single plea from you would have him burning Prythian down for you. Azriel had spent years yearning for you, ever since you had joined the Inner Circle hundreds of years ago. And now he had you in his arms, and he would go through a war just to keep you safe and content. You did not even realize how you had him wrapped around your finger, with your light, sparkly eyes and voice that, he swears, is the only sound he ever wishes to hear. He ran a hand through your hair, and draped his wings over your delicate figure, wrapping the pair of you in a cocoon. He looked at you, and realized you were long asleep, so he placed a kiss on your crown and closed his eyes as well. You were the only thing he dared to dream about, and as he caressed the bond in the depths of his chest, that golden yet invisible string, he couldn’t wait to spend all the nights with you like this.

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #reading #acotar fanfiction

[ofduskanddreams]

All That Matters

For @c-e-d-dreamer and @cassianappreciationweek day 4. The request: Nessian. Any setting of your choosing, but how about something soft and sweet?

Nessian ✦ Rated M ✦ 867 words ✦ on AO3

CW: CANON-TYPICAL DEPICTION OF VIOLENCE

They sat on the river bank until the sun was fat and low in the sky, its orange fingers slinking through the willow boughs.

There was only the steady rise and fall of Cassian’s chest at her back, the warmth of him bleeding into her veins, and the I-love-you-s murmured back and forth at the same volume as the Sidra’s soft rush.

“Are you awake?” he whispered against her temple after a longer stretch of silence.

“For now,” Nesta replied, shifting to look at him. “But I’m not sure for how much longer.”

The reality of the last two days was finally settling into her bones now that the adrenaline had evaporated. The Rite, Briallyn, Nyx’s birth… exhaustion was lead seeping into her limbs and weighing them down, trying to draw her wholly into its grasp.

“Let’s go home then.” Cassian stood, then scooped her off the grass and into his arms. He launched them skyward and Nesta closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, the world had stilled again and Cassian was saying something. “... know you’re tired, but I need you to try to eat something first.”

He sounded so gentle, so worried about her, and Nesta smiled as she opened her eyes. This male—capable of a ferocity to rival the gods, yet wearing his heart for all to see… “I love you,” Nesta told him again, just because she could and it was decadent.

The house delivered them enough food for a small army, and Nesta managed to put away a plate and a half before her yawns began arriving at a frequency that made eating inconvenient.

Cassian noticed, of course he did. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can sleep.”

Nesta considered protesting, a testament to the extent of her exhaustion considering that she hadn’t bathed in over a week, but knew she would regret going to bed layered in the residue of the Rite.

Cassian ran the bath as she sat on the edge of the counter and watched him move about the room. He helped her out of her clothes, his touch mindful of the bruises still littering her skin. He joined her in the bath, carefully maneuvering her tired limbs until she was leaning back against him again. 

With a soft cloth, he worked honey-scented soap into a lather and began to clean away the grime. It was all Nesta could do to keep from dozing off.

But her closing eyelids snapped open when her mate took a shuddering breath that turned into a bitten off sob. Nesta turned around so quickly that she sent water careering over the sides.

“I could have killed you,” Cassian whispered in horror, looking down at his hands—they were trembling. 

She took his shaking fingers in her own and squeezed. “You didn’t. You fought her.” Nesta shuddered as she remembered the sight of Cassian plunging that knife into his own chest rather than hers.

He shook his head, “I wanted to hurt you, Nes. It was…” he trailed off, looking to the side and squeezing his eyes shut. 

A crystalline droplet streaked down his stubbled cheek and Nesta caught it with her thumb, coaxing him to face her.

“You weren’t yourself. That feeling wasn’t you—it was Briallyn and the Crown.”

The pain in his hazel eyes echoed through her and she drew him into her arms, holding him as tightly as she could.

“I thought…” Cassian drew a deep breath and held it, blowing it out slowly. “I thought I might never see you again. When I arrived at Emerie’s and you were missing, the smell of those males, of the drugs…” he shivered, putting his nose to her neck and taking another controlled breath. 

“I thought I might have lost you and then to see you on that mountain, to be a puppet, forced to watch myself try to harm you without knowing if I could resist it… gods, Nesta, I was so scared.”

He lost his grip on the rhythm of his lungs, breaths turning shallow again. 

“You did resist her, Cassian. That’s the only thing that matters.” Nesta traced patterns on his back and around the base of his wings as she held him. 

The house kept the water at a steady temperature even as their fingers wrinkled. Eventually, the tide of emotion Cassian had clearly been holding back receded. They took turns helping each other wash. 

A tired yet comfortable silence settled between them as they climbed out of the bath, hastily dried off, and then collapsed into her bed. 

In the darkness, her mouth found Cassian’s, and she kissed him, pouring everything she felt into the touch: relief, gratitude, and more love than Nesta had ever imagined herself to be capable of. 

Her friends and family were safe and healthy. She had her mate, and her home. There were many unresolved problems, sure, but they would still be there in the morning. 

All Nesta cared about now was the steady beat of Cassian’s heart beneath her ear. His even breaths filled the quiet, starlit room and Nesta’s lungs slowed their pace to match as she finally allowed reality to drift as dreamless sleep embraced her. 

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @itsthedoodle @moodymelanist @areyoudreaminof @octobers-veryown @krem-does-stuff @iftheshoef1tz @moonpatroclus @panicatthenightcourt @thelovelymadone @talons-and-teeth

#cassianappreciationweek2023 #nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #nesta archeron #nesta acosf #pro nesta #acosf #acosf fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar drabble #kate's celebratory drabbles series

[carynthiangwyn]

INVISIBLE STRING

Gwyneth Berdara had met his shadows 10 years before she met him and she never would have ever thought their first meeting would happen the way it did , yet as she stood and met his gaze for the first time just one thought ran through her mind , MINE .The bond snapped into its place and all she could see , sense and feel was him and the invisible string that she felt in her very being now glowing brightly tying their souls together ❤️

I look up at the stars and think of you tonight, Wishing I could see their light reflected in your eyes. How I long to touch you , hold your body close to mine, as we share our love together beneath the perfect sky - John Mark Green

A Gwynriel mini fic inspired by divine rivals but with shadows instead of a typewriter, a Canon divergent story ✨️ coming to you all in October

I know its my fourth WIP I HAVE SHARED, but after reading divine rivals the idea of the shadows playing matchmaker and a bridge for a long distance relationship for Gwynriel seemed too tempting to not write. This will be a mini fic of 3 chapters only 🤗. I look forward to sharing it with all of you. A big thank you to @beaumaismortel and @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship for believing in the idea and encouraging me to write ✍️

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #wip #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwynriel supremacy #acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfic #acosf fanfiction #shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acosf

[freyjas-musings]

Domestic day for the @gwynrielweeksofficial I went with an art commission based on something light hearted and humorous.

We all know how Nesta says Gwyn is really good at everything she does so what if the one thing she is terrible at is baking 😅?

I collaborated with the very talented @hlizr50 for a one shot based on it and she took it to a whole new level .

Artist - No prizes for guessing one of my favourites @lucielart

Repost Not Allowed

Characters belong to Sarah J Maas

Find the link to the story below.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #pro gwynriel #gwyn acosf #acotar #gwyn x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #post acosf #acosf theory #gwynriel supremacy #acosf #acosf fanart #acosf fanfiction #gwynrielweek2023

[thebluenickel]

A Court of Ribbons and Shadows is three and a half books

I have been recently informed that ACORAS is, in fact, nearly a million words long, which is absolutely absurd. So I thought I’d drop my semi-official breakdown of the books of ACORAS for anyone who feels too intimidated to try getting into it.

Book One:

A Court of Ribbons and Shadows

From Chapter one (“I Am”) through Chapter 11 (“The End of Something; the Beginning of Something”) 

      A retelling of the latter half of ACOSF with the focus on Gwyn and Azriel’s growing friendship. Something new is brewing on the horizon—or, perhaps, right under their noses.

Book Two

A Legacy of Storm and Song

From Chapter 12 (“Azriel Talks”) through Chapter 28 (“From Seconds to Eternities”)

      After their ordeal, the Valkyries return to find their lives fundamentally changed. Emerie is no longer welcome in her home, Windhaven. Nesta is set to be tied permanently to Cassian.

      Navigating her fresh romance with the Shadowsinger, a new position in the Night Court, and unfamiliar faces joining their ranks—Gwyn finds that the thing she knows the least is her past. 

      And the Blood Rite, they find, was only the beginning of a greater enemy’s attempts to take their lives.

Book Three

A Ballad of Blaze and Blossom

From Chapter 29 (“The Song of Sun and Snow”) through Chapter 42 (“Never’s End; Forever’s Renewal”)

    The threat to Velaris has not gone unheard. Gwyn, Azriel, Emerie, and Balthazar have gone to Winter to track down a lost ally of great and terrible magic. Elain and Lucien are begrudgingly, for now, together in the Summer Court to apprehend an attempted theft—by stealing the incredibly dangerous enchanted object first.

      But a particularly brash River Nymph from the Autumn Court claims that their adversary is little more than a puppet.

Book Four

A Reflection of Gods

From Chapter 43 (“Sunfire”) through Chapter 55 (“Epilogue.”)

    All secrets have been revealed. Of bloodlines, of powers, of alliances between friend and foe. Even the secrets of love have revealed themselves. Azriel and Gwyn, with Elain and Lucien, are invited to stay in the Haven, a beautiful oasis of libraries in the Day Court, to recover.

    But one mystery remains unsolved. The single hope they have to stop the apparent end of the world is hidden in a story—long forgotten tales written by a tribe of Fire Nymphs. Emerie and her Unit must travel to a faraway land to track down the ancient texts. 

    They meet resistance from an unexpected source.

#gwynriel #elucien #gwyneth berdara #gwyn acotar #azriel shadowsinger #Azriel #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar #acotar fic #emerie of illyria #nesta archeron #ocs #acosf #post acosf #acosf fanfiction

[nikethestatue]

The Little Black Dress That Could

May the 4th Be with all of us! Today is my favorite holiday. 4th of July, Independence Day.

This is also for Caroline, whose birthday was yesterday. Happy birthday girl! You don't have to keep drinking virgin pina coladas anymore.

What happened during Winter Solstice at Hewn City between Elain and Azriel? What did he think of her ugly black dress? Read on and find out.

“By the Cauldron,” Nesta exhaled obnoxiously loudly. “It’s ugly.”

Elain made a face. 

It was ugly.

“Fucking ugly,” Nesta added.

Fu-gly.

That’s what the dress was.

It was a fugly dress.

With that, Nesta left. 

Well, good riddance.

It was fine.

She was fine.

Everything was fine.

Her sister hated her.

Elain had to wear this revoltingly ugly dress to a ball. Her first ball since she became Fae.

She had to stand there, in her ugly dress, allowing everyone else to shine…which would be fine. Normally, Elain Archeron wasn’t envious or petty. But she had to be dressed in this frumpy frock, knowing that he would be there. He would be resplendent  in his elegant leathers, his siphons shining with their ethereal light, his handsome face perfect and grave. Ugh. He would be perfect. He always was. He could wear a potato sack, and still look like a Prince.

Rhysand tried to be like Azriel, but failed. No one could be like Azriel, the mysterious and deadly Shadowsinger. The quiet authority that he always conveyed. The darkness. The secretive nature of,

“Hey Elain!” 

Cassian’s voice boomed behind her and startled out of her thoughts, she blurted out,

“I am not sleeping with Azriel!”

Cassian looked at her like she was drunk and yet, said calmly,

“I mean, no one would blame you for wanting to sleep with Azriel,”

“What?” she choked. 

“What? He is handsome and stately, muscular, but compact, built like a,”

“I am not sleeping with Azriel,” she noted dryly, “but I am not sure about you.”

“What?” he glared at her.

She folded her arms on her chest. 

“I am not! I haven’t,” he began muttering defensively. “We haven’t…I mean, there was that time when,”

“WHAT?!” she cried out.

“Nothing. Nothing.”

There was an awkward, strange silence and they just stared at one another. 

“Why are you here?” she demanded at last.

“You seen Nes?”

“Maybe.”

“You gonna be all mad because I might have, like 300 years ago, kiss-”

“I don’t. Want. To. Know.” she snarled at him, pressing her hands to her ears.

 He stepped back in fright and hissed through his teeth,

“Oh Mother…these Arecheron girls are rabid.”

“Oh rabid are we?” she yelled at him, and he actually took a step back, trying to avoid a physical altercation with the flower girl. Somehow, he feared her more than anyone–perhaps not physically, but somehow, he knew that he’d be torn to pieces by both Nesta, and probably Aziel. He wasn’t sure about Azriel, but there was…something. Some feelings that Cassian couldn't discern, but felt in his gut. Anyway, he wasn’t going to fight with Elain. Thought he couldn’t help himself and asked,

“You’re wearing this?” He raised his brow, glancing at the dress that hung on the hanger.

Elain sighed and said gloomily, “yes, I am wearing this dress.”

He whistled and murmured, “Mother’s tits…”

“Not helping, Cassian. Not helping.”

“Well, alright then. I guess I’ll see you at the Court of Nightmares. You know…” he paused, and then added softly, taking her hand in his giant bear paws, “you don’t have to go…”

Her expression softened and she murmured, 

“I want to go, Cassian. I want to do my part.”

Cassian and Elain were milling about the foyer of the River Estate in awkward semi-silence. Both were waiting to be winnowed to Hewn City. Azriel was already there, and Mor was going to pick the two of them up. Nesta would travel with Feyre and Rhys.

“Are you excited to stand at Azriel’s side?” Cassian asked, trying to sound casual.

“Pardon?” Elain whirled to him, eyes wide.

“You know…By the throne? Nesta will be next to me, and you’ll be next to Az,”

“Why should I be excited about that?” she demanded, but her cheeks were awfully red for her to be simply angry.

Cassian smirked.

He was definitely picking on some vibes. He wasn’t going to be fooled.

And he was pretty sure that he was the only one to be catching these vibes between his brother and Elain. Yeah. He was always the first one to notice things, especially between couples. He was observant like that.

“I don’t know…I think Nesta is excited to stand next to me,” he shrugged.

Elain’s chin rose and she declared,

“Why shouldn’t he be excited to stand next to me?”

Pacifically, Cassian immediately assured her, “I am sure he is very excited.”

Hewn City was outfitted beautifully for the three day-long celebrations of the Winter Solstice. There were black candelabras, wreaths of holly, silver and gold ribbons wrapped around the obsidian columns, the floors were polished so brightly, they reflected all the attendees and the lights. Enormous arrangements of pine branches bedecked in faelights, white roses and night blooming jasmine were placed all around the ballroom in crystal vases.

Azriel, Shadowsinger of High Lord Rhysand’s Night Court felt quite at home here. He didn’t like it–or rather, he didn’t like the present Steward of Hewn City–but he’d spent enough time in these ancient, hallowed halls to have grown accustomed to the place. It needed some sprucing up and something cheerful around here, but overall, he didn’t mind it. It was always especially beautiful around Solstice. 

It was especially beautiful right now, because Elain Archeron stepped into the ballroom. 

Oh yes, he’d noticed them all–Morrigan in her usual red dress, Cassian, standing right across him, brooding and tense, awaiting Nesta’s arrival. When the darkness of Rhysand’s power poured out of the massive doors, which opened silently to reveal the High Lord and the High Lady, and their heir inside of her. There was an audible gasp when the attendees beheld Feyre’s pregnant belly, but Azriel was used to that as well. Nothing surprised him much anymore, other than…

Elain Archeron.

She looked like a goddess.

She looked like the Mother.

Her long golden brown hair was unbound, streaming like a bronze halo around her, pinned with two pearl combs. And her dress…Was the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It fit her perfectly. It was simple and stunning.

Nesta was wearing something overly elaborate–tuile, and sequence, and gems and silver, and while it all looked very nice and all, his girl looked sublime. She didn’t need any extra ornamentation.

Well, maybe just the gift that he was planning to give her on Solstice night. The delicate necklace that he had designed and commissioned especially for her. It would look perfect in the little divot between her lovely slender collar bones. 

It was Nesta’s night to shine, but Elain looked like a queen. His Lady. Though to him, she was always simply his girl. His Elain.

The two sisters stood by the dias of the two thrones, Nesta next to Cassian, and Elain next to Azriel. He couldn’t offer her a wink or a smile, not in front of all these people, but she stood close enough, for him to gently, covertly rub his pinkie against the side of her palm. She didn’t flinch and didn’t react, but a tiny sweet smile touched her full lips. His girl liked it when he touched her–when they exchanged glances, and brief brushes of fingers. When he skimmed his fingers over hers at breakfast, when she offered him his mug of tea. Or when he could place his palm on the small of her back for a few moments when he followed her into the room, or out of the house. Or even better, when she adjusted the lapels of his jacket, and stroked his chest. No. She never minded when he touched her. 

Now he wished that he could place her small hand on his forearm so they could walk together–without hiding, without fears or accusations. It was impossible, but Azriel held onto hope. He had nothing else. Just hope, and his dreams of walking arm in arm with his girl, with Elain, who’d be his wife. He didn’t care about the bond at all–not hers, or a hypothetical one for the two of them. Did he wonder why the other two brothers received mate bonds with the two sisters, and she was given away like a sacrifice to Lucien Vanserra? Every day. But it was also pointless to ponder the ways of the Cauldron. He didn’t need a bond with Elain in order to love her. He liked her and loved her just because she was Elain–he loved her face, he adored her wit and her sense of humour, he admired her resilience, he enjoyed her mind and her intelligence. They fit each other like a pair of gloves–easily. What felt torturous with Morrigan for the past 500 years, felt absolutely natural with Elain. She took what he offered, and didn’t pressure him for more, and he gave bits of himself willingly and gladly.

One day, sweetheart. One day. You and I. 

Rhys was gifting Eris a Made dagger, and everyone began dancing as the first notes of the waltz filled the vast space.

Elain stepped closer to him, and he lightly ran his knuckle over her spine. Her back was bare, the dress held together by thick ribbons, but it offered enough of her silky skin for him to observe that he was forced to bite the inside of his cheek just to hold back a groan. 

“Do you want me to Make you a dagger too?” she whispered, without looking at him, pretending to be interested in the gift exchange. 

“I already have one,” he murmured with a smile, his lips brushing the back of her head, inhaling the scent of jasmine.

“Hmmm…would you like me to Make you anything?”

Yes, I would like for you to make me your husband. 

“Make me dinner, and I will be a happy male,” he decided.

“Then I will,” she promised simply.

Eris’s muddy eyes landed on Elain and she grunted through clenched teeth,

“Time for me to shine!”

“I can kill him for you, if you’d like,” Azriel offered calmly.

“Tempting, but you never know how others might look at the murder of the Heir to Autumn by the shadowsinger.”

Smart girl.

He stepped away, allowing another Vanserra’s eyes to skate over his woman. 

It was intolerable.

But Elain made a good impression of pretending to be mildly interested in Eris. 

And Eris, vain and predictable, was visibly disappointed by the modesty of Elain’s gown, by her demure appearance.

Azriel could only smile to himself. 

Thank the Cauldron for the prideful son of Autumn, who did not see the diamond in front of his eyes.

No matter.

Yes, Azriel wanted everyone to admire Elain like he did, but he also wanted to keep her for himself–his secret, a thing of lovely beauty. 

Eris offered Elain a bland smile, and then made a beeline towards Nesta.

His loss. Azriel’s gain.

Elain’s smile was finally genuine, and shining in his direction.

The guests were oohing and ahhing over Nesta and Eris in the dancefloor, and Azriel moved back to stand beside his beautiful girl, while they watched the other couple twirl and spin across the floor. They looked incredible–there was no doubt that in another life, in another world, Nesta and Eris would’ve made an excellent match. 

But that thought quickly evaporated, when Azriel sensed the rage, disappointment and unhappiness of his brother, who was almost gnashing his teeth in frustration. 

Elain wordlessly took Cassian’s hand and squeezed it affectionately.

“Cass, don’t cut in,” Azriel warned him.

Elain looked at the General with sympathy in her warm brown eyes and whispered,

“It’s not real, Cassian. They are not real.”

“But,” he began, and she cut him off,

“She is the one for you, Cassian. You know it. She is your girl.”

Azriel quickly looked at his own girl, and wondered how the Hel did she know? How did she always know?

“Give her the opportunity to complete all her spins,” Elain chuckled, “and then you can cut it.”

“Would you like to dance, Elain Archeron?” 

Azriel had danced with Nesta, after Cassian swept her away from Eris and completed his own circle on the dancefloor. Cassian was not as good of a dancer as Eris, but he and Nesta looked…right. They looked like they belonged. And maybe he was stiff, and didn’t move with a courtier’s grace, but Cassian danced because he knew that tonight, Nesta needed him. She needed him, and his strength, and his support, and she needed to be in his arms almost as much as Cassian needed to take her into his own. 

“She really is his girl,” Elain smiled softly, watching the two glide among the guests.

She turned and looked up at Azriel.

“And yes, I would love to dance with you.”

“Well then give me your little hand,” he ordered, smiling, as he extended his palm to her. She lay her fingers against his and he sighed with pleasure, as he wrapped his arm around her body, pulling him to him. Her head rested on his shoulder. 

One day.

Soon.

Wife.

Not a bad Solstice celebration after all.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel and elain #azriel #elain x azriel #cassian #elain #cassian and nesta #The Little Black Dress That Could #elriel fanfiction #my writing #acotar fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #Elriel fanfiction #Elriel fanfic

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

SLUMBER PARTY

Pairing: Nesta Archeron x Velaris!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, femxfem, cun*ilingus, hurt&comfort, jealous Nesta, will admit MC is kind of clueless just for sake of story, first story I've done for Nesta's character, might be slight OOC, got a little carried away xDD, I honestly wouldn't mind Nesta dominating me

Words: 5051

Summary: Nesta can’t help the poison that fumed inside of her as she watched (y/n) interacting with every male in Rita’s that sought after the female’s affections.

Nesta didn't mind going out for a drink or two. Hell, it was her favorite thing to do. Or at least it used to be before she moved into the House of Wind. Right now she would very much appreciate a strong fermented nectar. But she had to keep her wits with her. She couldn't enjoy the numbing of the head that drinking brought on.

No, she had the responsibility of watching over you.

Who else would stop you from making a bad decision? If it wasn't for Nesta, more men would be harrassing her for a dance or any scrap of attention they could get from her.

There were two in particular that Nesta had her guarding eye on. And they just had to be the best friends of the night court's high lord. Even if she wanted to rip their linger hands off, she couldn't. There would be a terrible price to pay for that treason. Not that Nesta didn't debate the cost. She was starting to seriously devise a plan on how to get Cassian and Azriel away from you as you blindly giggle and lean against them for support. Azriel wasn't bothered as you bob against him in a drunken haze. He wraps an arm around her shoulders to assist her in standing upright. A few times he tries to coax the young fae to sit down but you weren't having it. To be the only one sitting would be admitting defeat. You'd boasted how you'd be able to drink them under the table. Bragged of your high tolerance (though to be fair, you were already about three drinks in before they arrived) you challenged them. Now your pride would most definitely be injured.

You were a stubborn thing.

It was something that Nesta loved and hated about you.

Cassian dips his head down to whisper something in your ear that has Nesta already making her way across the bar. That was too close for comfort.

Whatever he said made the pointed tips of your ears glow pink. You'd liked what he said and even flutter your lashes at him with your own reply.

"Uh-oh, here comes mama bear." Azriel chuckles at the approaching figure of Nesta that radiated with hostility. He can't take his arm off from you, otherwise you would completely fall into Cassian and make Nesta angrier.

You blink to refocus your sight and turn to where Azriel had gestured his head. Maybe it was all the drinks you had consumed in a short amount of time, but there was something about an angry Nesta that turned you on a little bit. Her eyes were always the lightest of blues but when enraged they intensified into an almost ethereal glow.They reflect the fury inside of her. The cerulean hue seem to dance with an electric energy. You also saw vulnerability in her. A raw authenticity that spoke to the depths of her soul.

"Nes!" The stupid grin you usually had on your face when drunk grew larger.

The spikes around her soften when you address her. Nesta reigns herself in. "(y/n), I think it's time we go home."

You frown at this. "But Az and Cass just got here!"

Ah. It was going to be one of those nights where she would have to be the bad guy and tear you away from having a good time.

Thankfully even Cassian seems to urge you toward Nesta. "She's right. Best to call it a night."

Azriel nods. "Get some rest and drink lots of water."

Annoyed by their sensibility, you grumble and call them a few choice words that only has them laughing as you follow Nesta out. She held your hand, making sure you didn't get lost or fall. Putting one foot in front of the other proved to be difficult in your state. Suppose it served you right for getting so drunk.

The cold Velaris night air is soothing against your warm face. Nesta has you close to her as she slows down for your sake.

"Don't look at me like that." You grumble when you feel her eyes on you.

"You overdid it. Look at you, you can barely walk." Nesta chides.

Hm, funny considering she had been just like you several months ago. Having drink after drink to numb your mind, anything to keep the agony at bay.

You don't give her a reply. Now you make more of an effort to walk by yourself and try to shrug her hand away with a quiet 'i'm fine'.

Your apartment building was coming up anyway and you wouldn't need her assistance from there.

She treated you like a child. You were young for a fae, but in worth of years you were far older than Nesta.

Putting distance between yourself and Nesta caused your unwanted companion to retract her hand as if she'd been burned. Hurt flickers briefly in her eyes but this is soon frozen over into an expression of calm acceptance.

You fish your small brass key out of your pocket and hold it up to the building entrance. Nesta still lingered close behind you. "Thank you for seeing me home, but I've got it from here."

In reply she skeptically purses her pretty pink lips, unwilling to let you go in alone. "I need to make sure you make it up the stairs."

"Nes-"

Her sharp eyes square off against you. "I won't chance you getting hurt. So deal with it."

Bossy. Were all first borns like this? You yourself were an only child and didn't have to deal with pesky siblings, either older or younger.

You knew she wouldn't relent. With a pout on your own face you give in and move so she can walk through the building's front door and help you up two flights of stairs until you were at your apartment door. Your fingers choose to play dumb as they struggle to get ahold of the suddenly slippery key.

Nesta takes your key ring from you and easily finds the one that matches your door's lock. Gently she pushes you aside so she could open the door.

After a long day it was good to be home.

When Nesta was drowning in her own alcoholism, her apartment had been sparse and unfurnished save for a lonely mattress on the floor. No, your apartment was truly your home. You fitted it with the finest tapestries and rugs along with little trinkets that tell the story of your life. You especially like your balcony garden that looks out to the sea of roofs under the beautiful Velaris sky.

Your bedroom is too far away so you settle for throwing yourself on your couch and immediately grab your comfy blanket that you liked to roll yourself in. Vaguely you hear Nesta in the background, most likely in the kitchen.

She sits next to you and offers a tall glass of water. "Drink this."

"I'm not thirsty." If anything you might have to pee soon.

"I'm not cleaning up your vomit again, (y/n)." she hisses. Tough love was definitely Nesta's display of affection. She only acted to tersely with you because of her worry for your wellbeing. She'd seen how violent your hangovers could be. Each time she was forced to nurse you back to relative health you didn't hear the end of it from her. She chastised you along with making sure to show how much of an inconvenience it was for her. She hated missing her valkyrie training. Her move to the House of Wind had been against her will in the beginning. Now she seemed to actually be enjoying it. Not only did she have training to keep her occupied, but also the massive library that lay underneath. Friends were even a staple in her life now. You'd met Gwyn and Emerie. They tried to get you into training too and while you partially entertained the idea, Nesta didn't want you anywhere near the training grounds. She didn't want you getting hurt. That excuse made Emerie roll her eyes and Gwyn laughed at Nesta's painfully obvious protective nature of you. She didn't seem too inclined to treat them like she treated you.

"I'm not your responsibility." You slur and sit up. "You know that right? Before I met you I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I may not know how to fight like you but I can still protect myself if the need arises."

Conflict storms her face, her lips part to say something but she couldn't will her words to come out. Instead she huffs and puts the glass of water on the coffee table. Without anything to occupy her hands, you notice Nesta anxiously toying with her fingers. "I know that." For Nesta, it was near impossible to admit her feelings. A few times you were able to crack into her to see glimpses of the Nesta she hid from the rest of the world. She guarded herself well. But you could tell when something was bothering her.

When you went out drinking (and with the hopes of finding someone to bring back for a quick fuck) you acknowledged the way Nesta glared at anyone who showed interest in you. And when you went off to flirt, there was a brief flash of hurt before she put up her wall. Not for the first time, you wonder if Nesta had deeper feelings for you. Maybe you were reading too much into things and fooling yourself. It would explain her protectiveness toward you.

For the first time in several hours, her eyes turn vulnerable as she looks at the floor. If you still weren't upset with her, you'd most likely be kicking yourself for making her look so sad. "I can't. . . I can't help it. You let those lesser men touch you with their grubby paws. It upsets me greatly." This was all new territory for Nesta but for you she was trying to be open about her true feelings instead of hiding behind her mask of indifference. These moments were so rare and you tried not to blink. In your drunken haze, you sober up slightly and lean into Nesta. At your nearness, you feel her body stiffen but once she accommodates to your close presence she relaxes. She still doesn't look at you but you don't mind.

Tongue loose from your drinking made you vocally question her. "Why do you think that is?"

She huffs impatiently at herself and by the ticking of her jaw you know she's fighting to get the words out.

Thoroughly making up her mind, Nesta lets out a short sigh and finally turns up her blue-gray eyes. How could anyone be so effortlessly breathtaking? Nesta never put on makeup as it was never needed. You'd heard from Feyre that when Nesta went into the Cauldron, she'd already been quite beautiful as a human. But as a high fae her good looks were almost terrifying. Her personality aided in enhancing her austereness. Many were intimidated by her. Even the general himself would admit he would not want to be Nesta's enemy. Especially now that she's been training and getting stronger.

You were never intimidated by Nesta. Not even when you were first introduced to her. Your first impression of her was one where you felt like you were struck by an invisible arrow. She had such an heir of authority around her, forbidding any from getting close to her.

There's a hunger in her eyes as she looks at you now. Her long, black lashes cast shadows over her eyes before she brings her hand to your face. Fingers trail along the line of your jaw, coming to rest on your chin as you stare dumbly at her. You didn't breathe, not even a little bit as the pad of her thumb runs across your plump bottom lip. The trail she'd made from your jaw to your chin burned as did your bottom lip.

"I can please you far better than they ever could." She says finally.

The heat from your face is making your head swim and for a moment you worry that you were actually going to pass out. "You. . ." Nesta had been with plenty before. You wouldn't be her first. But you'd never heard her talk about any sexual experiences with females. She'd only ever bedded males. Yet she was confident in herself that even without any experience with females she'd be able to give you pleasure.

And you didn't doubt that she could, especially if the way you were feeling from just a little touching indicated to how willing your body was toward her. And it would be a lie if you said you'd never had any weird dreams of you and Nesta making out or getting into some real heavy petting. They'd only ever been dreams though with no possibility of becoming real. You never imagined Nesta to be into females, let alone you.

That one word you were able to get out was enough for Nesta to give into her desire and stamp your mouth with a searing kiss. She tasted sweet, so sweet that you wouldn't mind suffocating in the taste of her lips. You never wanted her to stop kissing you. She was all the oxygen you required. Her touches would be enough to keep you sustained for days. You feel yourself becoming drunk all over again, just off of Nesta. She definitely kissed better than any man you'd tasted before. Her lips were definitely softer although her kiss was on the more passionate side. Her kiss held the power of whatever she had stolen from the Cauldron. When she pulls away you're admittedly left delirious.

You're pleased to see that even Nesta's cheeks are radiantly pink as were her newly pointed fae ears. Even she trembled from the intensity of finally giving into her month's long desire. You desire to know how long she'd thought about doing that to you. Or was it simply a spur of the moment thing?

She touches her fingers to her lips, as if to replay the whole thing and reassure what had happened was real.

In seconds she has your lips captured once more, leaning into you with her lean body. She's like a wild cat now that she has grown more confident. You let her do what she wished with you. Falling into her grabby hands that held onto your hips and falling in love with the way she moaned against your mouth. You drank it up greedily and tentative bravery had you placing your own hands on her hips. She freezes but only for a millisecond before continuing with her experimental groping.

Mother above, Nesta's waist was so slim yet her ass was well worked and possessed plenty of muscle mass from her exertions with the rest of the valkyrie. You give it a good squeeze and nearly climax from the guttural sound that is ripped from the female above you. That was all you wanted to hear, morning, noon and night you wanted to hear more of Nesta's moans that were made because of YOU. Your hands scramble for the under curve of her ass cheeks and do the same but while also pressing her closer to you. Slightly she starts to grind against you making you go crazier for her contact. There was a morbid moment where you wanted her to take a bite of your flesh, to get as close to her as was possible.

It's you this time who breaks away from the kiss to throw your head back and moan. She takes this opportunity to rip the front of your dress, her new strength even startles her when it proved to be an easy task. With the action, she frees your tits and by instinct her mouth latches onto your breast. How was it that she made you feel like you were on fire? Like your very veins were melting and your blood as searing as lava. You wanted to combust and Nesta hadn't really touched the part of you that you wanted her to. Her lips make a trail of sharp kisses and nips from your breasts, down your torso until she reaches the extra tender skin of your pelvis. The hair from her immaculate bun is coming loose causing locks of her hair to come free and bounce around her face.

A bad decision on your part for daring to open your eyes and look at her face. No man had ever looked at you the way Nesta did. If she wanted to break you, you would absolutely let her. At that point you would let her do anything to you as long as she kept kissing you with that scorching gaze of her's.

And still she continued her journey further down.

You were a gaping idiot at that point when her nose nuzzles the base of your pubis.

At this Nesta frowns and you're worried that it's something to do with you when she professes "I've. . . never actually done this." That must have taken all of Nesta's courage to utter.

"M-Me neither. I. . . It's okay." You offer her the upward curve of your lips. You move a few of her hair strands away from her face so you could truly admire her. Her skin was smooth like cream and just as silky when your palm strokes her cheek.

Oh.

Your words were like a hammer to a piece of glass. Her face, you'd never seen her quite that naked in her emotions. You felt it from just that simple caress.

Nesta gathers control of herself once more but her smile is beautiful when she kisses the soft inside of your thigh.

Never had you been more grateful to regularly keeping yourself trimmed down there than in that moment. She dives in with her tongue, the eagerness makes you jolt but soon you melt back into your couch cushions. At first her licks are tentative with the tip of her tongue, but once she got a taste of you, you were a goner.

You squeal and arch your back off of the couch. The vibrations of her groans shake you to the core. Using the flat of her tongue she tongues broad laps with her wet muscle. You bit back any noise that would have come flying out. If it had slipped out it would have been absolutely obscene. The urge to buck your hips is a frantic one but Nesta has a controlling hand pressed down on your pelvis to prevent you from moving. You were stuck in her web and at her mercy. Had she really never been with a female before? From the way she was eating you out you found that hard to believe. Even the males who had gone down on you had never made you a sobbing mess in mere minutes. Yet that's where you were right now. Whimpering and crying out to Nesta especially when her lips find your clit and she begins to suckle at it. She took your small bead, rolling her tongue around it occasional before she started sucking again. Now she'd involved her fingers as they prod at your wet opening. Her finger sinks into you with ease.

Nesta is lost in her own little world. She's determined to fill all of her senses with you. To immerse hers hearing with the sound of your moans and the wet noises she made with her mouth on your cunt. All she wanted to touch was your hot skin under her. All she wanted to see was you keening against her every caress. Your lewd blush that spread from your chest and all the way to your face lets Nesta know that you're about ready to explode from her ministrations. Squirming thighs that suddenly seize and quake around her head has her licking and fingering you more furiously. She read each of your cues perfectly. If she sensed that you wanted her to speed up, she did so or if you wanted more intensity, she stuck another slim finger inside of you and started to pump them in and out. No male she'd taken to bed had ever orgasmed as pretty as you did.

Your undoing was a work of art as the coil inside of you had strung so tightly that it snapped. A cry rips from you as the pleasure Nesta gave you drags you down into the depths of your climax. She shows no sign of slowing down even as you're gripping onto her hair and pressing her face closer to your pussy, as if that was possible. A sick part of you wants her to suffocate as well, to be just as swept up in your ecstasy. You want this moment to be the beginning and end of everything. Selfishly you think you don't ever want her to give this to anyone else. Just for you.

You rock your hips back and forth, riding out the last spasms against Nesta's face. Finally, she slows her licks and slowly retracts herself from you. You let out a disappointed whine, half afraid that she would leave now.

Heavily panting, Nesta uses the back of her arm to wipe at her glistening face. You'd made quite the mess on her and you will yourself to feel any ounce of shame. Instead you feel a funny bit of pride. Especially when her striking eyes still haven't left your face.

Now you're grateful for the glass of water she had brought you earlier. From all of your screams and moans, your throat was parched and nothing sounds better than a cold glass of water.

Nesta seemed to be thinking the same thing because she grabbed it before you could even reach over to your coffee table. She takes a long gulp first before generously handing it over to you. You chuckle. Well, she did do a lot more work than you had. She deserved the first sip.

A comfortable quiet wraps the both of you up better than any blanket could. Questions buzz incessantly through your mind but the only one to be loudly expressed was "Did I taste good?"

Your partner burst out laughing. You didn't think it warranted that loud of a laugh but you smile regardless. Any time you were able to make Nesta laugh, whether intentional or not, was a win in your books. "Could you not tell?"

The heat still hasn't left your face when you nod your head. "I...It sounded like you did."

"You were delicious." Nesta tells you seriously this time that it's you whose laughing now. She stretches her body across you languidly.

However, you flip her so now she's the one on the bottom and you on top. She looks stunned for sure as she blinks up at you with owlish eyes. You grin before kissing her.

"Well now I gotta have a taste of you." Even though you were sobering up well, you had your newfound confidence egging you on. You wanted to be the one to taste and touch.

Nesta is hesitant to let you be the one in control but complies and adjusts under you so that the both of you could still be liplocked as Nesta assists you in removing her skirt. It was a tight pencil cut that really showed off her amazing figure. Her teeth nip lovingly at your lips, the nails on her fingers rake against your bare thighs. Her proud and beautiful face all your's now to admire. This was a new side of her that you were enjoying very much. Full lips possessing small bite marks from your own excited bites.

Diving your face to her exposed neck, you bit the vulnerable skin there and she thrusts her hips in an upward motion. You lick the juncture of her neck and jaw before biting down and suctioning a small circle of skin like she had down with your clit. There will be a mark when you were finished. Possibly several by the end of the night but this would be the first of many. You pull your head up to admire your work. A lovely purple and red circle was blooming onto her peaches and cream skin.

Your fingers toy with the edge of the blouse she wore. With coy (e/c) eyes, you look down at her. "Can I?"

She smirks and nods, keeping her attention centered on your fingers as they pop open the many front buttons. When you got to the swell of her tits, you gulp suddenly finding yourself nervous. Slowly they pop each one open to reveal her mauve lace bra that holds up her well endowed breasts. You squeeze your arm under Nesta so you could unhook the back of her bra with a quick pinch. Immediately, her brassiere loosens in the front to where you could finally remove it from her being. Your hands cup under her breasts to weigh them in her hands. She had the definition of abs on her torso as she flexes due to your touch. Was her mortal body as perfect as this one? Yes, most likely.

From her heated eyes, she delighted in your gaze revering her body like a temple. And as any fervent devotee you bow before her. You worship first her thighs as she had done with you. Already you can smell her want and desire from her core, she parts her legs for easier access. You couldn't inhale her essence enough. Now that you were up close and personal with her beautifully pink pussy, you ignore her annoyed hand trying to pull your face back into her. With the softest touch, you part her lower lips to examine the glistening folds. Petting the outer lips with a feather light stroke. The muscles in her thighs have small tremors running through them. Nearly sighing at the sight, you slide your finger between her creases and grin at how wet she was. You gather her slick with your finger and use it to make small, smooth circles over her clit. All of your movements were of the barest pressure which makes her furiously buck against you for more traction. Could you be blamed for wanting to take your time in memorizing her? You didn't know what tomorrow would be like, if regret would curdle when the both of you woke up. That was if Nesta was even going to sleep over. It could be a simple one night stand where neither of you talk about it ever again. For now you'd take extra care to remember what you could.

You give her lower lips the softest of kisses that has her writhing. Nesta's fingers find your (h/c) hair and twist your locks around them for any kind of support as you were sending her mind spiraling. Nesta's past lovers probably had not been as generous as you. From what she'd shared with you, most of her illicit relations were done when she was black out drunk and didn't remember much the next day. Pleasure wasn't something she was looking for, only something to numb her brain and make her forget. You'd make up for the foolishness of males before you. Make her acknowledge that there should be no one else but you when it came to pleasuring Nesta.

Surprising her when you finally delve your tongue inside of her, Nesta's cry has you getting wet between your legs all over again.

Cauldron help you. Was this how you'd tasted to her?

Nesta was absolutely divine in taste. How was it possible for anything to taste as sweet as Nesta? No cock you had ever sucked could compare to the flavors that assault your tongue as you tongue fuck her in between kitten licks and paying attention to the swelling bead above.

Her thighs bracket either sides of your face and she clamps down on you without mercy. That was alright with you. If you died between her legs, it would be the most honorable death you could think of. Your fingers still had her wet lips pulled apart so you could fully consume her.

Breathing became inconsequential. Your lightheadedness was a ramification that prohibited you from noticing the thighs squishing your head were a seizing mess as Nesta came quite quickly, much faster than you had when she was eating you out. You didn't notice the impercetible jerks of her body as her climax ebbed and subsided.

Only when her legs slacken off to the sides and she's pulling your face up do you see her bright red face, her panting chest that made her tits move up and down. With her hand still buried in your hair, she pulls you up her body and smashes her lips into your's. Your face is still a mess from your meal but it didn't seem of concern to Nesta as she's sticking her tongue inside of your mouth. She must have tasted herself on you. It would be impossible.

Deliriously you kiss her back, still trying to get oxygen back into your brain.

Your living room is filled with your combined panting and Nesta's.

Weakly, you lay your head on her chest and her hand on your hair softens as she begins to pet it back into place. "You came really fast."

Nesta chuckles, making your head bob as she did so. "I've had little patience for males lately. It's been a while."

For neither of you having been with a female before, you'd say it was a success.

With a content sigh, you nuzzle your face between her breasts. "Well I guess that's good for me."

"Good for us." Nesta corrects before pushing herself off and out from under you.

Disappointment has your heart dropping to your stomach. Oh, you suppose since she'd had her's, it was time for her to leave.

Sullenly you sit up, ignoring the state of your undress to watch her.

Instead of putting her clothes back on and heading to the front door, she's making her leisurely way to your bedroom and casts a glance over her shoulder. "It's late. Lets go to bed." Nesta's face is uncharacteristically soft as she beckons you to follow her.

You couldn't move fast enough off the couch.

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #nesta archeron #nesta x reader #nesta acotar #a court of war and ruin #a court of mist and fury #acowar #acomaf #a court of silver flames #acosf #acosf fanfiction #acosf fanfic #nesta acosf #acotar fic #acotar series #acotar smut #Nesta Archeron fanfic #Nesta Archeron fanfiction #Nesta Archeron reader insert #Nesta Archeron x reader #acotar x reader

[itsphoenix0724]

All Things Vile (Eris x Reader)

Summary: A recon mission to the Autumn Court gets more heated than you intended. They say Autumn males fuck like they have fire in their veins-you guess you're about to find out.

Warnings: ROUGH SMUT (this is pure filth and I'm not sorry), kind of dark, oral (m!receiving) choking, bondage

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote for him, been a while since I wrote in general since I'm adjusting back into my school life. Chapter 3 of MMOTI is drafted and will hopefully be released soon! But anyway here's a smutty Eris fic for all of you <3

The Autumn Court was ablaze in moonlit revelry. The scent of spiced cider and ale consumed the grove along with the smell of the blazing campfire. Fog weaved in and out of the shadow-drenched trees, urging the partygoers to follow its trail into the darkness. You could make out bodies against trees, males and females losing themselves in one another, as you jumped silently along the oak’s branches. It was a simple mission; Get in and get out, that’s what Rhys had said, and that’s what you fully intended on doing. Cloaked in darkness, mask pulled up to hide everything but your eyes, you found your target. 

A drunken blush stained his pale cheeks, and the blood-red silk shirt he wore was unbuttoned so obscenely low you could see the dappling of freckles along his chest in the firelight. His auburn hair was unruly; the waves held down only by the circlet of gold leaves that marked him as the firstborn son of Autumn. His lips were stained from the wine he was sipping and his eyes had taken on a seductive half-lid as he somehow fixed his burning gaze straight onto you. 

Fuck, Rhys was going to kill you. 

Eris stood from his chair in one smooth motion, prowling towards your spot hidden in the woods like a mountain cat, amber eyes burning. You jump down from your tree, weaving through the branches like smoke to try to lose the lordling who’s hot on your tail. Nothing but the sound of your labored breathing and the sounds of footfalls echo through the dark wood. You just need to get to the border, Eris won’t have the gall to cross after you. You can see the green grass of Spring, the pastel pink of the cherry blossoms grotesquely clashing with the russet hues of the forest that currently surrounds you.

You can almost smell the sickly sweet air when a hand encircles your wrist like a hot brand.

The world tips and falls, the grass slipping out from under your feet as you’re dropped into a room, landing on all fours against a hardwood floor. Bands of fire wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the ground, not burning but holding you there. The tell-tale wave of nausea that means you’ve been winnowed somewhere quickly overwhelms you as you try not to heave onto the plush burgundy rug infront of you.

Eris has taken you to his room at Fir Hall, his private estate away from his life wrapped in court politics, you’re familiar with the home after many spy missions here. Your eyes fix on the Autumn Prince with a burning ferocity, and he does nothing but glare back down at you from where he looms above you.

“Well, well what has fallen into my trap,” He fixes you with a wolfish smile as he pulls down your mask, and your lips peel back into a snarl. “Hello Sweetheart,” he purrs as he tucks a loose hair behind your ears. “I’ve missed you, it’s very nice to see you again.” He tries to run a thumb over your bottom lip, but you snap your teeth in his direction like a feral animal and he wisely pulls his hand away. 

“Bite me,” you growl out as Eris crouches down until he’s at eye level with you. A hound cornering a wild fox, it seemed the hunter had won tonight as he lets out a laugh that leaves a burning caress down your spine. 

“Oh, I intend to.” He promises, stroking his hand along the back of your hair, pulling out the hair tie, and letting it fall around your face. “Now will you mind your manners?” He raises a copper brow, eyes dancing with amusement. The bond buried deep in your chest tries to wiggle free of its restraints, begging you to let it play with the other half of your soul. 

“Never,” you vow to him even as the mischief in his eyes turns to longing. This is torture denying yourself of him. 

But how could you not? 

Beron is still High Lord, if you were to tie yourself to him you would have to abide by his rules. You would rather claw your own eyes out. And if your family ever found out, if Mor ever found out, the shame and guilt would burn more than the roaring fire in the hearth. 

So you have this, you take every mission you can to Autumn and collect all the broken pieces and scraps that you can get. This is what you will allow yourself.

“I thought that would be the case,” Eris gets up and languidly strolls away from you, plucking the bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and pouring himself a drink. You watch with adept interest as his ring-clad fingers tighten around the crystalline glass, he strolls over to his bookshelf and plucks a well-loved novel off the dark shelf. 

Then the bastard settles himself into one of the plush armchairs and starts to fucking read. He ignores you as though you’re nothing more than a potted plant in the corner, he doesn’t even so much as glance at you, fully enraptured in his novel. A few minutes pass when you clear your throat. Eris deigns to look bored as he lazily turns his head toward you. 

“Yes?” He asks, propping the book against one knee and taking another sip of his whiskey. Your eyes track the movement of his throat involuntarily. 

“Aren’t you going to do something?” You push, urging him with your eyes as you lift your head through the curtain of your hair. You hope your gaze communicates everything you cannot bring yourself to voice, fearing your body will refuse to allow you air if you try. 

I love you, please don’t ignore me, I need you, play with me

He chuckles a dark sound and picks up his book again, pointedly flicking a page as the rubies on his hands glint in the firelight. 

“I’m not in the business of playing with unwilling toys,” Eris supplies, purposely staring at the fire instead of you. “Perhaps I should call Rhysand to collect you and tell him I don’t appreciate being spied on. Perhaps, he will never send you back here.” His brows scrunch in frustration but you both know that the threat is empty. It seems he is tired of your games. 

“What do you want?” You barely grind out, still refusing to relent to the signing inside your soul. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it? Princely bastard.” You practically spit, and faster than the blink of an eye Eris is in front of you, fisting your hair in one hand and tilting your chin to meet his smoldering gaze. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” He questions, and you can see the vulnerability dancing in his eyes. You shake your head as the fire binding your wrists recedes and you move into a more comfortable kneeling position, hands now bound in front of you. He soothes his hand along your cheek again as your brows knit together. You thought that the two of you had a kind of understanding. You had no idea where this was coming from. “I tire of this ruse, my love.” If Eris notices the mournful look in your eyes he says nothing. He strokes a warm hand through your hair, admiring your eyes in the firelight. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me huh?” The wolfish grin is back and you hum your agreement as he runs his thumb along your bottom lip again, pleased at your cooperation as he slides his finger into your mouth. He thrusts it into your mouth and as you teasingly run your tongue over the pad he lets out a moan that shoots straight to your core. 

He undoes the belt at his waist, pulling his cock out with his hand, and your mouth waters at the sheer size of him. 

“I’m going to fuck your mouth now,” he rumbles, pure authority and power radiating off of him. A glimpse at the future ruler he will become one day. You nod your enthusiastic consent as he grips the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth at a merciless pace. Your head empties as he hits the back of your throat, the hand cupping the back of your hair surprisingly gentle compared to the way he was brutalizing your mouth. “That’s a good girl, take me down your throat.” It spills out of his mouth like he can’t even control it as your eyes roll back in your head at his praise. Eris pushes your mouth all the way down to the base of his dick and holds you there for a few seconds as your nose connects with his pelvic bone. He’s relentless as he uses you for his pleasure and you think that he might bruise your vocal cords. 

He spills down your throat as your binds dissolve into nothing, leaving behind a warm tingling sensation where the fire licked at your limbs. 

You swallow what he gave you, opening your mouth in emphasis as whiskey eyes blow wide with lust. You’re drenched at the sight of his cock already stiffening again. He walks to the mountainous bed in front of you, making himself comfortable against the pillows. 

“Come here pet.” He growls fisting his cock in his hand and crooking his fingers with the other. You start to rise to your legs on sore knees, but you freeze when Eris tuts–holding his hand out to stop you. “No. I want you to crawl to me.” The order wraps around you like warm silk, voice sliding against your bones. You lower yourself back down to the floor, humiliation burning hot on your cheeks as you sway your hips in what you hope to be enticing. He stops you quickly and you look up at him from under fluttering lashes. “Strip. Slowly.” Your face burns even hotter and Eris can’t take his eyes off you as you rise, slowly undoing every single buckle on your leathers and letting them fall to the floor, leaving you entirely exposed to him before climbing onto the bed. His body is so warm against your skin as he draws your mouth to his, the burning taste of cinnamon whiskey floods your mouth. He dominates you even here, claiming you as his tongue wrestles with yours. The moan that slips out of you comes out scratchy from the abuse of your throat, and in a flash, you’re below him as he grinds his hips into yours. 

“Eris,” you whimper as his cock brushes against your folds. You need him to fill you to the brim, wanting him as close as possible. He shushes you gently as he bites at your pulse point, the only goal in his mind is to claim as he sucks dark marks into your neck. 

You’ll surely be wearing only turtle necks for a few weeks after this. 

His warm hands skate down your body, pulling and prodding at your sensitive nipples, letting out a dark chuckle as you whine at his ministrations. Eris mocks your moans as he rubs a finger at your center, rolling the sensitive bundle of nerves between his fingers. Finally, he slips a finger inside of you rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. He knows exactly where to touch to get you to dissolve, his beautiful mate bending to him like water running through his fingertips. That ring-clad hand curls around your throat, cold metal contrasting with his warm hands, and you keen as the pleasant dizzy feeling takes over your whole body. 

That feeling combined with the addition of another finger in your core sends you hurtling through gold-flecked oblivion.

He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and moaning as he relishes the taste of you on his tongue. Staring down at your shaking form with smugness in his eyes as he circles the skin of your inner thigh, enjoying the way the muscles quiver under his touch. Eris sinks himself into you, inch by tortuous inch until you can’t tell where your body ends and he begins. He strokes slowly and deliberately, bruising you with his intensity as your vision goes white with searing pleasure every time he moves his hips.

You want him to leave his imprint everywhere on your body, that unanswered bond begging you to never leave this bed again. Eris must feel it too, that golden thread wrapping around his heart begging him to keep you, to never let another male so much as look at you. That makes something ugly twist in his chest and he almost snarls at even the thought of another male near you as his instincts take over and he draws your legs over his shoulders to hit an even deeper part inside of you. Your walls are clenching and fluttering around him as his pace turns ravenous, all you can do is try to hold on as your nails scrape jagged lines down his back. Eris scrapes his teeth over your neck, then he moves down to your nipple biting down as you scream his name before giving the other one equal attention. 

“Who do you belong to pet?” He murmurs in your ear in time with a thrust that's so deep your vision turns white. “Who’s the only one that can make you feel like this?” You can barely give him anything but a whimper as he devastates your body, pinching your clit in a way that elicits a pleasure-soaked sob. “Scream it for me,” he punctuates it with a slap against the apex of your thighs. 

“Yours Eris, I’m all yours!” You scream as you orgasm, tears running down your flushed cheeks, Eris follows soon after you spilling himself deep inside of you.

He pulls out, disappears into the bathroom, and returns with a clean rag to wipe up the mess he made between your thighs. He collapses onto the mattress next to you and pulls you to his chest, warming his hands with his power as he rubs slow circles into the small of your back. You look up at him and he’s taken aback at the vulnerability in your eyes. “Eris I-” you choke, unable to force the words you so desperately want to say past your lips. He shushes you with a kiss against your forehead. 

“I know,” he mutters into your hairline “I know.” You hold him tighter, blinking back tears as you lock the bond back down in its obsidian shackles,“I’ll wait an eternity for you.” It’s the last thing you hear before closing your eyes as you let him soothe you to sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I trust everything went well?” Rhys asks, raising a dark brow at your form where you stand across from his desk. You subconsciously pull the dark turtleneck further up, the deep purple marks burning like a brand. You scrubbed yourself raw as soon as you winnowed yourself to your apartment, and you’re praying to the Mother that Rhys doesn’t even catch a whiff of Eris or the frankly copious amounts of sex. The thought of Eris enjoying it this morning, pressing his nose against the crook of your neck to make sure it really stuck, before crawling his way down your body to settle in between your thighs makes you triple-check that the steel of your mental shields was still in place.

“Nothing to report,” You rasp, voice destroyed after last night's events. The attempts to clear your throat are doing nothing to help you

“Are you alright?” Rhys questions, wringing his hands together on his desk as he shoots a concerned look. 

“Must just be a chill I caught in Autumn, those woods get cold at night.” You supply and he hums his agreement. 

“Well go rest, you’ve earned it. Perhaps you should see Madja for something to soothe your throat.” Rhys says and you nod your agreement, taking the cue for your dismissal. You wait until his office door clicks shut behind you to let out your sigh of relief, thinking of nothing but soft sheets and warm hands. 

You can only hope you get another mission there soon.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #eris vanserra #eris imagine #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vanserra smut

[oliviajdjarin]

Azriel Shadowsinger: Inertia

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Request: "Hello, I just finished reading your most recent Az work & it was so wonderful ❤️ & I was wondering if you are still taking requests? If so, I was thinking maybe one where reader is helping Az into his leathers and like tying all his armor into place and stuff before he goes off to the war (or just a dangerous mission) and then after he comes back reader also helps him take it all off & just go to bed🥺❤️ If you have time or feel inspired to write this, I would appreciate it."

Warnings: blood, descriptions of gore, knives, cuts, vivid descriptions of anxiety, descriptions of scars, nudity, nightmares, bruises, kissing, very much off canon, pretty much just hurt comfort.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Thank you very much to the person who requested this to me. I am so sorry I cannot find your username anymore, but I hope I have done justice to your idea. And of course thank you to my readers for all the love on my recent fics :)

If you'd like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

SJM Masterlist

(pic credit to pinterest)

The Spymaster of the Night Court liked to think he was split in half. Two persons in one body.

The first, the Shadowsinger. Carynthian. One of the most powerful Illyrian warriors to ever exist. Member of the most powerful High Lord's inner circle. Servant of his shadows and infamous throughout all of Prythian.

The second, completely, utterly, entirely owned by the female in his arms.

Your breaths spanned across his chest like waves on sand, spreading across his skin like water, leaving trails of chills in their wake. Your nude body was warm, silky, and serene, rested completely on top of him as if you were holding him down against his will.

In reality, Azriel prayed he died like this. Fully encapsulated by you and only you.

Your body rose as he inhaled and lowered as he exhaled. Your tiny squeaks of breath were a rush of blood to his head. He continually ran his scarred hands across your back and down your spine as you slept, soaking in the feeling of your skin and the storm within his chest at bay. He knew it wouldn't be for long.

He seemed to always be running out of time.

As the minutes ticked on, made apparent by the wooden clock next to his bed, he could feel the first half of his self slowly taking over the second. He could feel the blood lust, the cool rage, the hardening of his heart already beginning to take place. With his mate in his arms, it felt wrong, like he was holding glass his body was itching to drop.

Because of this, he kissed you.

"Y/N," he mumbled against your lips, kissing you again. "Y/N."

He was met with a lucid groan deep within your throat, and he kissed you again.

"I have to go."

With those words your eyes opened, and Az was blinded by their radiance, as he is every day. The area around your eyes was slightly puffed from sleep, adding to the intimacy and mundanity of simply waking up together. Azriel wished he could drink it. Pour it into a glass to perhaps sip on later, when the half of himself he was becoming less and less proud of as the years went on became too much.

You rubbed at said eyes, your body heat against his warming at your increasing blood flow. You leaned forward, propping yourself up and away from him. He sat up with you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

He was desolate without your touch, desperate for as much of it as he could have before having to leave it.

"I'm up," you whispered, yawning. "I'm up."

He chuckled and tucked his mouth against your neck, kissing just underneath your jaw. The softest, most favorite area of his to kiss on you. Your pulse thumping against his lips. Your very life against his mouth.

He was going to fucking miss you.

You pulled him away from you to give his lips a peck before scooting down to the edge of the bed, standing completely up, and stretching your spine and shoulders. Rolling them backwards and forwards, side to side. The line down your back was accentuated as you did this, as well as the shade of your skin in the rising sun.

If Azriel had the choice, he would have kept you in that bedroom all day, and all night, and for all of eternity.

You then made your way across the room to a cushioned chair, draped with every piece of his leathers laid out and ready. He hated the look of it - these agents of carnage on such delicate fabric. It felt absurd, almost sinister.

What was worse was the image of you walking towards them and lifting his tunic into your arms. You faced him, holding it at the ready, and he got up from bed with a sigh. It was deep, bottomless.

He stayed standing anyway.

He walked to you, also nude, and held eye-contact as he did. Your eyes were sunken and sad, but in a way that was not vibrant or pungent. It was in a way that showed you were used to this sadness and fear, that you and your body knew how to handle it.

Always running out of time.

He held up his arms and you slid the tunic over his head. You then turned back around and retrieved his pants, allowing him to step into them. As you buttoned them securely, making sure they were tight enough for his comfort, you began to speak.

"Where to today?" you asked, and despite the dread growing in his stomach, he smiled.

You always asked him for details of his missions before he left for them, desperate for any and every characteristic of them. He always wondered why you did this. He didn't know if you wanted an image of everything that could go wrong, everything that could go right, or even a bit of both.

Part of him wanted to know, but most of him did not.

"Rhys is worried," Azriel replied. "Beron is getting worse, according to Eris anyway, and plans on meeting with the mortal queens in the Autumn Court tonight at dusk. Eris is meant to sneak me in so I can get a read on what they're planning."

You hummed, finishing off his pants and reaching behind you to add his vest. You then began adding his padding, and your eyes remained focused on his body.

"You don't like that?"

You shrugged. "I don't trust Eris."

He nodded, helping you smooth the vest down comfortably to his body. "I wish I could disagree with you."

You looked up at him then, leaving your hands on his pecks. "You shouldn't be going alone."

"I have to," he replied. "Cassian can't be incognito for shit."

You smiled faintly, but the dull fear remained.

"Besides, I'm never alone," he said, gesturing behind him. "My shadows will keep me safe, alert me if something is going wrong, and protect me."

Your breath was warm against his face as you said, "And you will get out of there if they tell you to, if your gut is telling you to."

He held your face in his hands. "I will get out of there, and I will come back home."

You nodded, still unconvinced, but kissed him anyway.

You then added his pauldrons to his legs and thighs, smoothing them against his pants and assisting him with his boots, before finally latching on his shoulder and stomach spaulder. He could feel some tension relieve on your shoulders as you did this, allowing the knowledge that despite entering enemy territory, he was still protected. His heart and vital organs were protected by the best Rhysand could get.

He could see a little bit of his mate come back into herself as you processed that knowledge. It wasn't enough, he knew that, but it helped you, and that was more than enough for him.

You gave the covering a quick jab, both to test the strength and cut the tension, sending Az staggering back a few steps. You both smiled at each other as he found his footing.

"How does a warning sound for next time?" he chuckled.

"Tell that to your fancy shadows," you countered, and he shook his head, his eyes a glowing gold.

Never enough time.

You then picked up his gloves from the cushioned chair, and held the pair of them in one hand while taking his left hand in the other. You rubbed a thumb down his scars, tracing each divot and crease, before pressing a swift kiss to his palm. You then pulled the matching glove on over the skin, and repeated the process with his right hand.

That act, that simple kiss and touch, was more intimate and profound than any act of sex the two of you had ever and would ever share to him. It showed him that you acknowledged it for what it was - painful, foreign, damaged - but also saw it for its beauty. Its symbolism of survival and strength. Its necessity for him to become the male he was today.

It's safe to say he cried like a true Illyrian baby when you kissed him like that the first time, and teared up every time after that.

After his gloves were on him comfortably, you put on the finishing touches of his leathers before taking a few steps back, you admiring him, and him admiring you. Him wrapped in wealth and power, shadow and danger, death and cool, icy focus on his objective. You, bare to him, soft, vulnerable, pure, stripped clean of anything and everything except for who you truly were.

On Azriel's dark days, he believed that in that moment, you both were who you truly were.

You looked him up and down, the playfulness and peace from a few moments before slowly dissipating from the air, and he pulled you back to him when he saw the fear enter your eyes again. The rough leather against your soft skin made him feel dirty, nauseous even at the thought of you getting anywhere close to the person he became when he wore them, but he pushed the feeling to the side as best as he could.

"I will come home," he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. "I will come home."

You nodded, eyes slowly lining with tears, and he elected to console you with touch. Bestowing kisses against your hairline, down your temples, across your cheeks, down your nose, and nearly against your lips.

Never to your lips. It was his silent promise that he would be back, and he would kiss you well.

He pressed one last kiss against your mouth before departing from the room, not looking back, the first half of his personhood taking control, and the cool focus of the Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court overtook his being completely.

~*~

Azriel's wish came true. He could disagree with you about not trusting Eris, because he was the only reason Azriel got out of there undetected, unscathed, and uninjured.

Azriel did not, however, trust him to keep his fucking mouth shut. The entire way there and back, constantly vague, rogue comments about Mor never telling anyone the full story of what happened between her and him, how Rhys was too much unchecked power, and how Nesta would be much happier elsewhere.

Azriel's heart went out to the male, knowing how he was treated at home and the abuse he had endured from his father, but that didn't mean he never wanted to clock his teeth in.

Despite the fact that Azriel was coated in sweat and mud, exhausted beyond belief, his inertia that was fueled by adrenaline was slowly fading, and that he desperate to be horizontal, when Eris suggested stopping at an Inn until morning, Azriel would not budge.

"I'm going home," he responded, "with or without you, I'm going home."

Eris was smart enough to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the journey.

After days that felt like weeks, Azriel was at your doorstep - sore, tired, but so fucking happy he could barely contain himself. He knocked, a pattern of one-two-one, but the door nearly flew off its hinges before his second beat. He was met with only a flash of your face through his hazed, swollen eyes, before you wrapped yourself around him, colliding with him in an embrace unique to lovers. One of complete surrender and relief, and he met you head on, holding you so tight to him he raised you off the ground and could feel your ribs squeezing against him so harshly it was painful for the both of you.

Neither of you felt any pain, only relief, and true completeness.

He tucked his head in your neck, listening to your pulse and kissing that spot he loved so much, as you ran your hands through his hair.

"Azriel," you whispered against him, "Azriel."

He put you down and looked into your eyes. "What?"

You smiled, only mischief, play, and knowing written on your face. A look that said, "pay up."

He gladly obliged.

He didn't kiss you softly, or slowly, or reverently. He kissed you like he had been wanting to for days - hungrily. He was starving, aching for you in a way that he was unable to describe. It was down to his bones, the tether in his chest clamoring to connect with its other half.

He felt whole again, and he wanted the feeling forever.

His kisses slowed down as he pushed you into the house, shutting and locking the door behind him without leaving your lips. The two of you could not stop fucking smiling as you moved into the bedroom, and he sat himself down on the cushioned chair. You climbed onto his lap, kissing him with only love, only passion.

You slowly pulled away after a few more short kisses to frame his face with your hands, caressing his skin, looking into his eyes, reaffirming what you already knew.

The most beautiful male you had ever known was completely, utterly, entirely yours.

You could not deny, however, that his under-eyes were a dark shade of violet, as well as the area around them puffy and red.

He was tired.

"Come on," you whispered, climbing off of him. "Stand up."

You pulled him to his feet, his stance unsteady and weak, and began to pull his leathers off, piece by piece. You set them back onto the chair behind you delicately, but quickly, as the male standing before was practically sleeping standing up.

He couldn't help it. His chest was warm. His heart was full. His love was back in his arms.

After removing every inch down to his tunic and boots, he pulled you back up to his mouth, and you kissed him softly. Your fingertips lined his jaw while his gripped your waist.

You kissed him once, twice, three times before pulling away. "You need to sleep."

He blinked, then blinked again. Like he was trying to wake up from a dream. "You're right."

You chuckled and led him to bed, helping him to lay down. You then stripped yourself of all your clothing and tucked yourself in beside him. His eyes were already closed, his breaths were already evening, but with one last burst of energy, he pulled you into his chest, laying you on top of him the same way he did on your final morning together. He kissed you one last time, and you could have sworn he was asleep already when he mumbled against your mouth.

"Told you I'd come home."

You smiled against his neck, listening to the sounds of him in sleep and whispered, "I missed you."

For once, the two of you had all the time in the world.

Tag list: (if you would like to be added please let me know!)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy@seraphqueen @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @xxpeachyxo @evlyncelia @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopiapia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @redhighlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @mystic-sculptorture @wolfyland7 @are-y0u-serious-blog @hilism @tooobsessedsstuff @simplysensual @hernameispa @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5 @saphiraprince22 @azsazz​ @thatonespriteobsessedbitch​ @moisyinfluencerstrawberry @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​ @azsazz

#azriel x oc #huge azz #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel #gwyn acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf fanfiction #crescent city fanfic #tog imagine #cassian fanfic #rhysand #feyre archeron

[talkfantasytome]

Small Steps

Cassian has a rough day that really shakes him. Nesta meets him where he is, using physical touch to try help him.

Warnings: Mild Angst | Word Count: 2,717 | Read on AO3

Nessian Masterlist

a/n: Based on this ask. I took to heart the "change anything". 🙈 So no smut, friends, I'm just still not there, and I wanted to get more to the heart of the love language.

Written for Day 2 of @sjmromanceweek: Love Languages.

The massive sigh that escaped Nesta's lips practically echoed through the sitting room.

She rarely read in that room. Then again, despite the book in front of her, she really couldn't say she was currently reading, either. Not as her eyes flicked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and glass door every other second. Checking on the balcony, making sure she didn't miss it when he got back.

As if she could. Who could miss someone of that size?

Thump.

Her eyes snapped back to the balcony, but nothing was there. It took her a minute before she realized the sound had come from the book that slipped from her lap.

She must be getting tired. It was rather late. And with how dark it was, she could actually miss it. Perhaps she should just go to bed, wait for Cassian there. Nesta would likely wake up when he got in…he was never particularly quiet getting ready for bed.

With a yawn, Nesta closed her book and stood from her seat, jumping as she heard the door open behind her.

"Finally!" she sighed, placing her book on the table and turning to see Cassian standing in the threshold, his hair wet and clinging to a forlorn face. It must be raining outside. "Where have you been?"

Nesta padded over to Cassian, pulling him further into the House and shutting the door behind them. The wind was harsh, blowing against her efforts, but she got it closed and locked before too much water came in. And what did was magically dried away by the time she heard the lock click.

Cassian didn't answer her. He just stood there, a few feet away, eyes distant and unresponsive.

"Cassian?" she questioned. Nesta kept her voice soft, tilting her head to try and meet his gaze. But even when she made contact with his hazel irises, that's all she was doing. There was no recognition that he was seeing her, meeting her eyes. She brushed a hand up his arm and asked, "Is everything all right."

He turned his head away, as if he couldn't look at her, and then pulled his arm back. It wasn't the response she wanted, and she couldn't pretend it didn't cut like a knife, but at least it was some type of reaction. "Cassian," she tried again, taking his hand. "What happened?"

Still no answer.

A pit began to emerge in Nesta's stomach as she watched her husband and mate remain still and cold. It wasn't like him. Cassian was all warmth and openness, jokes and laughter. He didn't fluster. Nothing ever shook him. Not like this. The worst Nesta had ever seen him before was in times when she was in danger, and even then there was something more than this.

She didn't know what to do. How could she? Five years together, and this was a first. She should know how to comfort him - she did know, typically. But this wasn't the same as sad Cassian or worried Cassian or pissed-off Cassian. And she doubted some sarcastic insults or gentle kisses would pull him out of the stupor he was in.

But Nesta had to do something. Cassian was always the strong one. For her…for everyone, really. It's what he did, constantly. And now she had to do it for him.

Holding back the tears that were begging to be set free, Nesta quickly requested a meal for Cassian from the House as she led him to the table. A plate full of steak, fried potatoes, and broccoli appeared just as she got him into a seat - his favorite meal. She sent a silent thank you to the House for that. The House didn't always seem to like Cassian, but clearly it could tell that now wasn't a time for whatever grudge it held.

Cassian sat there, hands at his side, staring off into the distance. She wasn't sure he even realized the food was there, but that was fine. He'd eat it, anyway. She'd make sure of that.

Nesta picked up the silverware and cut a piece of steak, cooked perfectly between rare and medium-rare, exactly how Cassian liked it. She then brushed some of his hair behind his ear and lifted his face to meet her gaze again.

This time, something registered in his eyes. The faintest twinkle that said he did see her. And for a moment she let the relief flood her, but only a moment. Because as quick as the twinkle came it faded again.

"Please, Cass," she breathed, holding the bite of steak up. "Eat for me?"

He lifted a hand and placed it over hers, guiding the steak into his open mouth. After that first bite, he took the fork in his own hand and began to work on the meal.

Nesta let out the breath she'd been holding and then sat beside him, keeping one hand on him at all times, her fingers curved around his broad shoulder. She stayed clear of his wings for the moment, unsure how he'd react in his current state to even an accidental brush against them.

It was quiet as he ate, only the sounds of his bites and chewing filling the room. And the inconsistent clicking of his jaw. The sound usually grated on Nesta a bit. Tonight, however, it was music to her ears.

His hair began to fall into his face, and Nesta pushed it back behind his ears, stroking him for a second with her thumb. Once again, no reaction from Cassian, but Nesta was too busy noting how cold his cheeks felt to worry about that. It felt as if he'd been out in freezing temperatures long enough for it to chill his very bones.

Turning her face toward the ceiling, Nesta asked, "Could you start a hot bath, please?" A gentle breeze caressed her face in response, and she added a whispered, "Thank you."

Cassian set his fork down a couple minutes later. He didn't move beyond turning to look at Nesta. He seemed to be asking 'what next', and it broke Nesta's heart and healed it at the same time. One step at a time, that's all she needed from him. She took his hands and stood up, pulling him up with her, and thanking the Mother that he registered it enough to help. She wasn't actually strong enough to move him without his help.

Keeping one of his hands in hers, she led him down to their suite. The bathroom was warm with the steam from the bath. Cassian followed Nesta into the room and stood in the center of it as directed by Nesta. She didn't bother waiting to see if he'd start to ready himself for the bath.

Nesta started on his jacket. She had to walk around him as she slid it off his arms and wings. And then she was on her tiptoes, peeling his shirt off of him, grateful he was present enough to lift his arms and duck down a bit to help her. Once the shirt was on the floor, Cassian straightened. It gave Nesta the chance to look over his torso. Not in admiration, as was so often in the case, but instead Nesta found herself scanning his body for injuries.

She couldn't imagine that was what was getting to Cassian. He typically played off injuries as if they were nothing, only resting to get Nesta to shut up. But that didn't mean he couldn't also be physically injured, along with whatever had happened to affect him emotionally.

There wasn't much, however. Just her husband's extremely toned chest and those entrancing tattoos that never ceased to astound her. She trailed her hands up and down his arms, hoping the touch would offer him a bit of comfort, or at least some warmth. He slanted toward her a bit, as if he were leaning in to the touch, but when Nesta looked up his face was still vacuous, even as his eyes followed her.

Nesta gave him a small smile anyway, giving his chest a quick kiss before she moved on to his legs. She knelt down to get off his shoes and socks. They were dirtier than she'd realized. He must've been tracking mud through the entire House. And the socks, too, were damp. But the worst part was the pinkness of his toes. How long had he been in his wet clothes? Nesta hadn't realized how wet they were. She was pretty sure Az had gone with him that day, so he shouldn't have needed to fly home. Just the quick flight from beyond the wards to the balcony of the House. They should've been lightly damp.

Based on the feel of his socks, they'd likely been drenched hours before. Dried enough they wouldn't drip, but not so much that they weren't still wet and cold. She should've had him bathe first.

With this new realization, Nesta was quick to remove his pants and lead him toward the tub. Whorls of steam danced across the calm water. She tested the water quickly and it was perfect. Hot, definitely, but not so much it would burn his skin.

She looked back up at him, meeting his blank stare. "Cassian, can you get in the tub for me?"

His eyes shifted to look at the tub and he gave her a solitary nod of his head. He was slow to move, but he climbed into the large bath. He always commented on how it was too big for him alone when Nesta didn't bathe with him. Seeing him in it without her, Nesta actually believed him.

Cassian sat down in the water, everything but his shoulders and head submerged. Nesta knelt beside the tub once he was situated, surprised to find a pillow on the floor waiting for her. She didn't reflect on it too much. Just accepted the plush object and reached to grab the soap and a loofah.

She didn't scrub too hard. He wasn't noticeably dirty, nor did Nesta want to hurt him. But still she made sure to wipe down his arms and torso, and did her best to get to his legs as well. And then she worked on his hair. She poured a large dollop of the hair cleansing concoction they kept into her hands and then lathered it into his hair.

Letting off a soft groan as she massaged his head, Cassian leaned into the touch and something lightened in Nesta. She let out a sigh of relief and smiled to herself as she continued to rub the soap in. Nesta took her sweet time with it, making sure she got every inch of his head, hoping to prolong his enjoyment. She then began to scoop water up to rinse the mixture out of his hair. It was slow work, but it was better than asking him to dip his head.

Once all the soap was off him, Nesta reached into the water and grabbed Cassian's hands, standing up and leading him to do the same. He followed, a waterfall cascading off his body as he did. Nesta grabbed a towel and wrapped it around him before she carefully helped him out of the tub. He held the towel around himself as Nesta patted it against his body, attempting to soak up as much water from his skin as possible.

Cassian watched her as she did. Something in his features scrunched, his eyes focusing on her chest.

Nesta couldn't hide her shock. She doubted Cassian was actually interested in doing anything that night. And she wasn't sure he was in a place for it anyway. Following his gaze and looking down, Nesta realized it wasn't actually her chest that was drawing his attention, but the fact that her dress was entirely soaked. She hadn't even noticed. "It's fine. I'll be out of this soon enough."

He didn't respond, but Nesta didn't care. It was a tiny step, and that was all she needed.

They walked into the bedroom and Nesta began to turn down the bed before going to the closet and pulling out Cassian's favorite pair of lounge pants.

"Do you want to wear these tonight?" she asked, holding them up for him. He looked them over, taking a minute before finally nodding. Nesta held them open and helped him into the pants.

Her hands met his waist as she let the pants go around him, and then they were trailing up his stomach and landing on his chest. It was a soft touch, not the kind that was meant to lead to something else. Just to comfort.

Cassian watched her. And when she looked up into his face, she found his hazel eyes staring back at her. They weren't as distant as they had been earlier. There was still something vacant about his face, but it wasn't entirely blank anymore. She smiled and lifted one hand to caress his cheek.

"I love you, Cassian," she breathed. Cassian tilted his head against her hand. All the response she needed. "Do you want to get into bed? I'm going to get into my nightgown, and then I'll join you."

Despite her words, Nesta didn't move her hands until Cassian had moved far enough away that she wasn't touching him anymore. He climbed into their bed as Nesta got on one of her nightdresses, and then she was joining him.

He stayed on his side, his back to her, and it took all the strength Nesta could muster to not finally break down. As much as she wanted to, Cassian still needed her. Even if he wasn't turned toward her with his arms open like he was most nights.

So Nesta scooted toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist and nestling her face between his wings. She left a soft kiss on the center of his back and made sure her entire body was up against his, mimicking his position.

Lifting one arm, Cassian rested it on top of Nesta's. His hand curled around hers and she nearly burst into tears. He was there, somewhere. Tomorrow would be for talking. Or the next day. Or whatever day he was ready. Tonight, she would hold him and stay close. And his hand grasping hers was enough to know that's all he needed.

She nuzzled as close as possible and held him tight. It wasn't long until his breathing evened out, his body relaxing in sleep. Nesta was able to drift off soon after that.

Nesta awoke to a room so bright, even with her eyes closed it was blinding. She groaned slightly to herself, squeezing her eyes shut and curling into the body that was holding her.

A deep, soft chuckle sounded beside her and Nesta's eyes shot open.

Cassian was there, smiling down at her, his arms tight around her waist.

"Cassian?" she whispered.

He lifted one hand, bringing it up to cup her cheek. "'Morning Nes," he breathed before leaning in and kissing her on the forehead.

"Is everything-are…are you okay?" she asked gently.

He nodded, pulling her closer to him and resting his head on top of hers. "It was a bad day, yesterday."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She could feel him shake his head as he replied, "Not yet. I just want to stay here a bit longer."

Nesta nodded and tightened her arms around him. "We can stay as long as you like. And we can talk when you're ready."

"Thank you. For that and…for last night."

Nesta brushed her nose against his chest in response and said, "I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

"No," he stated quickly. "It was exactly what I needed. You were perfect." Nesta buried her face into his chest, hoping to hide the tears that were finally breaking free. "You are perfect."

They stayed like that for most of the day, neither wanting to move or be far from each other. There wasn't much talking, but Nesta knew Cassian would share when he was ready. For now, she took joy in the small steps. The conversations they did have, the touches Cassian initiated, the way his eyes finally sparkled again as he looked at and laughed with her.

It was more than enough.

a/n:I hate that last line but I literally couldn't think of anything better, so...😬

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @clemidansleschoux @meher-sumedha @labetenoir @vinylcryes @shinya-hiiragi @starryblueskies7 @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @aks18 @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @wannawriteyouabook @dealfea

#nessian #nesta x cassian #sjmromanceweek2023 #cassian x nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #acosf fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #modern au #mild angst #fluff #love languages #physical touch #the emotional kind #a side of words of affirmation for nesta

[lepra-art]

Art commission for ff “Nox Industries”

ACOTAR Modern AU

#art #арт #artwork #instagram #рисунок #photoshop #digital art #acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand #feyre #feysand #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #acosf fanfiction

[belle-keys]

oh and while we're on the topic of smutty works, does anyone have any recs for That Scene between Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel that we were deprived of? you know the one.

#that scene #listen i need to read it okay #as a nesta lover!!! #ao3 will pull through i believe!!! #nesta x cassian x azriel #nessian #nezriel #cazriel #acosf fanfiction #nessian smut #acotar fic

[carynthiangwyn]

UNTITLED GWYNRIEL FANFIC - WIP

I just thought of sharing a little snippet of my third WIP which was infact the first one I started on, I haven't zeroed in on the title but I promise I will come up with something interesting.

It was past midnight and even with exhaustion weighing heavily from the hours of mindless sex she had just indulged in Gwyn couldn't find sleep. She glances back at the male sleeping in her bed, Mikaere or Mik as she called him was her closest friend in Adriata, though it took time he had earned her trust and earned her friendship enough that she trusted him to conquer parts of her life she had lost choice in , he knew everything about her including the fact that except her friendship and a few evenings of pleasure they indulged in there was nothing more she could ever offer him. He knew that and he respected that, that's what made Mik different, after Nesta and Em he was that person she could truly call a friend.

She turns towards the gentle breeze from the ocean from her favourite spot on her balcony , takes a deep breath feeling the salt in the air , she closes her eyes leaning into the sound of the crashing waves and tries to still her mind . The second she does though, his eyes flash through, those beautiful hazel eyes glowing like molten metal sending a jolt of pain that pierces through her heart, the longing and the shame at her inability to move on. It's been 5 years since she left Night Court , 5 years since that day..... the day that changed their lives forever.

The thought of seeing him again is terrifying. She hasn't heard about him in the last 5 years, her sisters had spared her from details in the letters they exchanged, mostly respecting her wishes. She was sure he knew where she was he was the spymaster after all but she was glad he stayed away. It was perhaps for the best given the circumstances under which she left and the truth that hung heavy between them ever since. She was going back to Night Court on an assignment from Lord Varian himself, she couldn't deny it and it was only for a week , she would have Mik with her , yet the thought of being in his presence, was making her jittery and tense ... she didn't know what to expect..

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel supremacy #acosf #acotar #azriel acotar #shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acosf fanfiction