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#acotar x male reader
shadowdaddies · 1 month
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I need more Eris x quiet!male! Reader.... Maybe how they met? Maybe the reader is a lower nobleman's son in the autumn court and they are at a slightly informal gathering and while Eris is rather talkative because he's, yk, Eris, the reader isn't really feeding into his charm (or so it seems) until the reader's composure breaks slightly and he blushes and Eris, ofc, notices and thus begins their (forbidden👁️👁️) relationship?
omg I LOVE THEM. I had so much fun writing this eep
Tomorrow, Then
Eris x m!Reader fluff
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Setting down your wine glass, your gaze shifted to where Beron sat at the head of the long dining table. Brown eyes glinted in the faelight, a lazy smirk settling over the High Lord’s face as he set his fork down on his plate.
“I think it’s time the males move to the drawing room, so we may discuss real political matters.” Haughty laughter echoed from the Lords in the room, your father beside you  one of those who laughed in dismissal of the females around the table. His hand clapped your shoulder, squeezing slightly in silent demand to rise with the other males, wooden chairs scraping against the carpet as you stood.
Your eyes shot to the end of the table where Beron stood, paying no mind to the Lady of Autumn still seated next to him, a polite smile on her features as she offered the other Ladies a tour of the gardens. While Beron strode away, you watched his eldest son lean down to press a kiss to his mother’s cheek. 
As though he sensed your gaze, amber eyes found yours, Eris arching an appraising brow, eyes roving over in your body in a way that sent shivers down your spine. The sound of your father’s throat clearing next to you brought you back to reality, feet slightly stumbling as they led you out the door with the rest of the males.
The drawing room smelled of cigar smoke and leather, firelight flickering in chandeliers and multiple hearths throughout the large space. With a grateful smile, you took a glass of whiskey from the young female servant before scanning the dark room for a place to sit. 
While the Lords chattered about various nonsense ranging from the females they bedded to the taxes they levied on the farmers, you found a seat far away in the corner of the room. A painting on the far wall caught your eye, of Eris standing proudly among half a dozen hunting dogs, his golden gaze piercing through the painting as though his eyes were truly on you.
“The artwork more interesting than the conversation, is it?” a low voice drawled from beside you, the couch cushions settling as Eris’s lean form joined you on the sofa. The air was heady with the scent of cinnamon and crackling embers, a blush settling over your cheeks as you turned to the Autumn Lord.
“I can’t say the conversation provides much competition,” you muttered, earning a deep laugh from Eris. The sound settled something within you, a warmth spreading in your chest far more intoxicating than the whiskey. “Are those your dogs?” you continued, nodding toward the painting.
Eris hummed in affirmation, never turning away from you. “Come with me,” the Lord murmured, standing gracefully to lead you in the direction of a door at the other end of the room. You followed quickly, keeping steps quiet as you slipped away from the group unnoticed.
Closing the door softly behind you, you turned to find yourself in a grand library, stories higher than the last room and lined with books and art separated by tall arched windows overlooking the autumn landscape. “What is this?” you whispered, more to yourself than to Eris.
His rich laughter filled the air once more, a feline smirk playing on his pink lips. “This is one of our libraries. People rarely come in here, and I thought you might appreciate the quiet.” 
At your responding expression, Eris nodded at the door you had come through, where your father’s raucous laughter rang out among the other Lords. “You did not appear to enjoy that sort of company.” 
“Do you?” you challenged in a moment of bravery. You turned to the Autumn Lord, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach at the feeling of his attention on you. “Do you find that you thrive among those types of males?”
Something between amusement and approval shone in Eris’s gaze, the flames lighting the room appearing to brighten around him. “No,” he admitted with a slight nod, stepping closer to where you stood. “No, I do not. But I do know what I want, and what I need to do to get it.”
Forcing yourself to hold his stare, you sat your glass on the window ledge and matched his steps. Nearly chest to chest, you could now see the specks of brown and maroon in his eyes, like falling leaves against amber irises. “And what do you want?” you dared to breathe.
Eris’s pupils darkened, swallowing those colors as his scent darkened. “There are many things that I want. Some in this room, for example,” he purred, a long finger curling under your chin as you found yourself drawn impossibly nearer.
Your eyes dipped to his lips, the plush pink skin slightly parted in the dim light. “And you? Do you see anything that you want?”
Hand daring to slide up his side, your fingers found purchase in his red wavy hair you’d been dying to touch all evening. “I see the only thing I want, or care about, in this entire estate,” you murmured, the words barely spoken before Eris pulled you in for a deep kiss.
It was gentle yet strong, lips and tongue not clashing but moving in a symphonic dance. You tugged on the strands at the nape of his neck, his hard length rubbing against your own eliciting groans from the both of you, when the door handle clicked loudly from the far side of the room.
The two of you jumped apart, catching your breath quickly as you turned to see your father drunkenly stumble in alongside Beron and others. “Ah, there you are,” your sire announced, whiskey on his breath as he slung an arm around you. “You missed the good conversation!”
Willing your breaths to even out, you gestured to Eris as casually as you could. “Lord Eris and I were discussing the impressive collection of art in the drawing room, so he was showing me more of the art and literature your home boasts,” you nodded to Beron. “It’s quite impressive.”
Eris flashed you an approving grin as Beron rambled on about the many more books and artifacts he owned, the other Lords dutifully quick to affirm his ego.
“Perhaps tomorrow we could go for a hunt. You could see the hounds from the painting you admired in action,” Eris suggested, his intense gaze betraying the nonchalance with which he spoke. 
You found yourself speechless, unable to choke out much more words beyond, “yes, my Lord.”
Completely unaware of the tension between you, Beron clapped a hand on your father’s shoulder, the two of them continuing conversation as the group was led from the library out towards the entrance of the Forest House.
“Tomorrow, then, I will send for you,” Eris promised as you stepped across the threshold towards the carriage where your father waited. 
You knew your flushed cheeks were visible even in the moonlight as Eris smirked. “Tomorrow, then,” you answered, rushing toward your carriage with a brighter smile than you’d ever felt burning your cheeks. Butterflies erupted within as you found yourself looking forward to tomorrow, more than you had in a long time.
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Warm Me Up
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Summary: Illyria is cold, Rhys has some ideas on how to stay warm.
Content Warnings: Smut; dirty talk; little bit of cursing.
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Illyria was a wasteland, nothing but frigid mountains and harsh winds, you'd never understood how anything survived here. Your mate had flown you in an hour ago, you'd immediately had to sit in front of the cabin's fireplace, smothered in blankets, a warm cup of tea in your hands to avoid your teeth chattering and your fingertips from turning blue. The boys were somehow training outside shirtless. You could see them from the window, sparring, even as the relentless wind continued to beat against the windows.
You furrowed deeper into your mountain of blankets, still so damned cold. How were they managing that? How had Cassian survived his childhood, alone and hungry in this for so long? Was there something built into Illyrians to help them survive?
You tapped a mental hand against the bond hesitantly, worried you might distract your mate and he'd get hurt... again. Rhys had gotten used to your random questions, but thd first couple of times had been so sudden he'd lost focus, Az had clipped him across the shoulder, drawing blood. It hadn't even scarred, had healed with the help of his powers in less than hour. He'd probably forgotten about it. You hadn't.
Your mate responded with a gentle caress against your mental shields, like he'd brushed a hand over you mind, urging you to come forward.
"Do Illyrians run hot?" You asked.
A dark chuckle ran across the bond, sending a shiver over your spine. "Why don't you come out here and find out?"
You rolled your eyes. "And freeze to death? No thank you."
"It's not even snowing yet.," he let your peer through his eyes, the landscape dripping from yesterday's rain, but it was more mud than anything.
"I've seen warmer places in the Winter Court."
"There are plenty of ways to stay warm up here," Rhys purred, his voice a playful caress against your mind. "You're welcome to join us in the birken when we're done."
"And leave the safety of my little nest by the fire? I'll have frostbite by the time I make it there."
"Give me five minutes." The bond snapped closed and then Cassian was screaming obscenities from where they were sparring near the side of the cabin.
"THAT'S CHEATING YOU BASTARD!" Azriel shouted.
"RHYSAND I CAN'T FUCKING SEE!"
You pulled the comforter off the top of your head to try and get a good look through the closest window, but there was nothing but darkness against the glass. It was still too early in the day for the sun to be going down, the darkness outside rattling against the windows like a harsh wind. Rhys very rarely unleashed that much power, but you felt your own flare to life in your chest at the sight of it. Like calls to like, and your starborn powers had always risen to the challenge it found in Night Triumphant.
It wasn't even a full five minutes before the back door was thrown open so fast the old wood cracked against the wall. The wind came in with it, making you burrow deeper into your mound of blankets to avoid it.
Rhys must have kicked off his boots at the door, because you heard it slam shut and then nothing until large hands settled on your blanket clad shoulders.
You jumped with a shriek of surprise that had your mate bending over the back of the couch to kiss your barely exposed forehead apologetically, his skin colder than the wind beating against the walls.
"Ack! You're an ice cube!" You hissed, twisting to get away.
He chuckled as he pulled away and went to the closet near the front door.
"Don't bother, I've already raided it," you warned.
He opened it anyway, then frowned at all the empty shelves. "You weren't kidding." His next move was to go to the stack of wood neatly organized by the fire place and throw more in, the blaze illuminating the sharp planes of his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt, training leathers hanging low on his hips, a fine sheen of sweat making his bronze skin glow in the firelight.
Under normal circumstances, you would have jumped right on him, ran your tongue over his abs, traced the swirl of ink across his chest. Something about him in leathers made you weak in the knees, all rational thought out the window. The only thing keeping you in place this time was the thought of loosing the little pocket of warmth you had created.
He felt your gaze of course, turning away from the fire to look at you. "Better?" His voice had gone down an octave, his pupils dilating.
"Little," you admitted, though him being so close, looking like that might have been more of a reason for the heat you were starting to feel than the fire.
He walked to you slowly, intently, violet eyes fixed on you.
Your heartbeat quickened in your chest as he knelt in front of you.
"Think you can make room for me in there?" He kept his hands on the top blanket of your little cocoon, waiting for permission.
"I don't know, how cold are you?" You teased; this would be the last little bit of your resolve.
He slid a hand under the blankets, fingers dragging up slowly, intently over your calves.
"Cold," you whimpered, but the shiver that ran through you had nothing to do with the temperature, not as he traced his way up your thighs, only stopping when he found the hem of your sweater.
He leaned and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose first, then the corners of your lips, his breath warm against your face, the contrast between the two temperatures making your head spin. You wanted to reel away and lean in all the same time.
"Just for a second," he promised, "then I'll get you nice and warm."
You opened the blanket, and that intense violet gaze took stock of your attire: His old sweater, so loose and baggy it looked like a dress on you, and knee high, fuzzy pink socks. Pants had felt like a waste of time, not when sifting through the dresser meant time spent away from the fire.
Rhys all but jumped on top of you, pushing you down into the couch cushions, the blankets tangling between you as he crashed his lips against yours.
Rhys, as High Lord, was always so poised and put together, everything about him calculated and curated to create the necessary masks of court duties; but alone, like this, when it was just the two of you, no masks necessary, he let that unending restraint slip, kissing you and running his hands over your body like a man starved. His tongue swept into your mouth as he slid a hand under your sweater, deft fingers dragging up your skin to cup your breast.
He'd kept his promise about the cold, you'd only felt it for a moment before he'd settled between your legs, using a bit of magic to untangle the blankets and rearrange them over the two of you. You ran a hand through his hair, scraping your nails lightly over his scalp as he playfully gave your nipple a tug.
"Better?" He rasped, lips barely off yours like he couldn't bear to be that far from you.
The warmth of his weight on top of you would have been enough, but the way he kept running his hands over any bit of you he could reach, the way he kissed you again and again and again was enough to make you forget you had ever been cold in the first place.
"Much better," you confirmed as he broke away to nip at your neck.
He chuckled as you arched into his touch; whimpering lightly as his tongue laved over the sting of his teeth on your throat.
"Can't decide," he murmured into your skin, "if I should fuck you in my sweater or not?"
Heat coiled between your legs, even further when he rocked his hips into your center, even with the clothes separating the two of you, the friction was enough to make you moan.
He nipped under your jaw, "Look so pretty in it, but I gotta get you all warmed up don't I? My poor little mate, not used to the cold."
Now that he was with you, you wanted, needed, every bit of contact with his body you could get. The sweater, so warm and comforting before, now felt like a tremendously itchy obstacle keeping you from him. "Want it off," you complained, trying to find your voice around another moan as he rutted his hips into you again, hard even through his leathers.
He chuckled as he fisted the hem and started pulling it up your body. "Wear it again for me later?"
You nodded as he pulled it over your head and tossed it over the back of the couch. Distantly, you hoped Rhys had the good sense to send his brothers away for a little while since you had stopped hearing them moving around outside, but had no time to ask as he started kissing his way down your body, pausing to give some attention to your peaked nipples. A whine tore from your throat as he swirled his tongue over one and then the other.
"Love when you make those little noises for me," he purred into your mind, not wanting to remove his lips from your body to speak.
"Rhys," you whimpered, body arching into him as he nipped at your sensitive skin.
"You're gonna look so pretty, all marked up under my sweater later," he sent an image of you, covered in hickeys from your throat to your hips down the bond as he continued to move slowly down your body.
Rhys liked to push you, liked to see how worked up he could get you, first with that silver tongue of his, then his hands, he could keep this up for hours. You, however, where so desperate for more friction, to fill the ache now burning between your legs, bucked your hips, squirming underneath him now. "Please. Need you."
He scraped his teeth along he hem of your underwear, humming his approval. Rhys grinned against your skin, all male satisfaction as he held your hips in place. "So impatient. I thought you were freezing to death in here? Don't you want to get warm, Darling?"
Warm? Your skin was on fire in every spot he had touched, the warmth of his body spreading to every point of contact he gave. It was becoming too much and not enough, you needed more, more, more.
"Please!"
He caught the hem of your panties in his teeth and pulled them slowly down your hips, hands skimming your hips and thighs, kneading soft skin. Your legs widened for him automatically, instinctively, despite the fact that you were now uncomfortably wet from his ministrations.
He ran his tongue against your center, humming his approval, blasting it down the bond. "So wet, and I've barely even touched you."
You pinched your eyes shut, overwhelmed already. He really was too damn good at this. No amount of time would ever be enough to satisfy the well of need you had for him. You blasted that desperation, that ache for him right down the bond as words failed you, as he continued his exploration of your dripping core with his tongue. Stars erupted behind your closed eyelids as he chuckled down the bond, pleased with your reactions to his body.
You were sure you were begging for him, whimpering and pleading nonsense as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, but the words faded in and out of your consciousness. There was only Rhys, the movements of his tongue, the feeling of his fingertips digging pleasantly tight in your hips, the heat of skin wherever it touched you. Your eyes rolled back into your head, body arching, hands tangling in his hair as the edge rose up to meet and you and you toppled over it with a scream that sounded an awful lot like your mate's name.
"Such a good girl," he purred as he lapped up the evidence of your pleasure.
You're whole body shook as he kissed his way back up your body, grinning against your flushed skin the whole way. He was so warm, when he kissed you again, the taste of your release still on his plush lips, your only thoughts were on how you could get more of that warmth, until it has seeped into your bones, erased any trace of the cold that had laid so deep beneath.
You threaded your hands in his hair, now a mess across his forehead, whimpering. "Need you still."
He grinned as he caught your lower lip between his teeth in a playful nip. "I know, love."
You moved a hand to the small of his back, pulling him closer.
"You'll have me until there are no longer stars in the sky." The bond flooded with more warmth and affection, as deep as your need for him ran, his was equal, there was no end to what he could give you.
You kissed him again, even as your legs wrapped around his waist, a bit of magic finally removing those damned leathers. Maybe you'd ask him to put them back on later, so you could enjoy the sight of him in the aftermath as much as he would you, but those were questions for later.
"I love you," you whimpered as he finally slide into you, slowly, casually, like there was all the time in the world for the two of you to enjoy each other.
He fit like he was made just for you, the stretch just uncomfortable for a moment before the pleasure made your back arch and your toes curl. He moaned into your throat, pushing his nose into your sweat dampened skin, inhaling your scent as he pushed all the way in to you.
You wondered, distantly, if the stars you were seeing were his making, or something that appeared for him too. The way he panted into your skin as he rocked his hips, testing you, made you think he saw them too.
"So perfect," he moaned as he slid almost fully out.
Your nails clawed at his shoulders, begging for him to come back and he plunged back in a little more forcefully this time, the couch groaning beneath the two of you.
You rocked your hips to meet his thrusts, hands still trailing down the contours of his spine in a move that would be sure to leave marks of your own. He nipped at your neck and shoulders when you pushed too hard, skin breaking beneath your fingertips, but you knew he didn't mind, know he relished in being marked up by you, like it was a badge of honor. You'd leave hickeys on him afterwards, when the pleasure building between your legs wasn't so white hot, when you could focus your attention somewhere other than the need burning it's way through you.
His hand snaked down between your legs, drawing you closer and closer to the edge again.
"Rhys," a prayer, a mantra, the only thing that made sense as pleasure turned all rational thought to mush.
"I've got you," he rasped in your ear, every muscle taught as he rocked into you again and again and again. His pace was quickly becoming more frantic, his breath hot on your throat as he moaned into your skin. It was that sound, so desperate and low right beneath your ear, coupled with the movement of his deft fingers, the angle of his cock inside you, all hurtling you so quickly towards the edge that you didn't notice it was there until you toppled over it. Your mate followed with a roar, his own release warm inside you.
You clung to him, trembling, panting, as you came down from your high, the familiar weight of him atop you grounding in the aftermath. He snaked an arm around you as he positioned the two of you on your sides, sharing the couch now. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as he kissed the top of your head, gently.
"Warm now, darling?" He asked softly, a hint of teasing still there, even as he recovered his breath.
He hadn't pulled out of you yet; you bit your lip in thought as you tossed a leg over his, bringing you flush against his hips. You were sensitive, the movement made you wince a little, but even after all that, you still wanted more of him. Perhaps it would never be enough. Like the Illyrians that called this frigid place home, there was always going to be something that pushed you back towards the fire, that damned insatiable need to get warm.
"I think I'm still a little cold," you purred, eyes glinting playfully.
Your mate chuckled at the challenge in your tone, violet eyes narrowing into where you were still joined. "Can't have that, can we?"
The fire roared in the fireplace, a bit of your mate's magic flaring, making sure there was more heat in the cabin, before his lips were on yours again, chasing away any hint of cold before it could touch you.
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feyreswaterybowels · 12 days
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⭒The Silent One⭒
#3 Azriel x Fem!OC
⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: Azriel finds the guy that sold Cassandra. Lots of bonding happens with Cassandra, Azriel and other members of the IC. Slight cliffhanger.
Warnings/Tags: mentions/implied rape. Mention past sexual abuse. Mentions pregnancy from rape. Slow burn. Violence. Brief victim blaming. Found family. Protective!azriel. Protective!IC. GRAMMER ERRORS—I plan on going back to edit this please don’t judge me too hard I’m gonna have a busy week and just really wanted to get this posted for y’all🩵
Authors Note: all reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter. Regular italics are inner thoughts and bold italics are mental communication.
⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆
Azriel stands in the darkness of night watching. Waiting. Body thrumming with anger. Calm cold anger. The kind that got people killed if they didn’t give him what he was looking for.
Only moments after Cassandra’s departure had his shadow returned to him. Telling him where to find this Vale. This horrid male who was taking females away from their family and selling them off—profiting off of them like livestock.
He sees the male, recognizes him from the briefs flash of memory Cassandra let slip at dinner, the one where this mad had choked her, slammed her against the wall just for needing to use the restroom.
The male is loading something up in the back of a wagon, the building behind him dark and dingy. Azriel let his shadows take him closer. Closer. Until he was standing in the alley between this man's house and another. The smell was horrid, small creatures scurrying about looking for their meal for the evening.
The male retreats into the building and Azriel lets a shadow loose to follow him—to be his eyes inside of this building. Inside is just as dark and dingy and piled high to the roof with…stuff. The blue skinned male navigates the maze of boxes and bins and trash with ease. He seems to be the only one here but Azriel knew better so he waits following the man through the seemingly endless maze.
That’s when he hears it, his shoulders going tight, his jaw clenching. Crying—no sobbing. A girl begging to be left alone as the male grabs her and pins her down to the floor.
“Fuck,” he growls. He pounds his fist against the outside of the building, taking chucks of the stone out. It’s loud enough to distract the man, to get him away from that girl as he rushed from the room under the floor, locking the locks and coming out. Looking around wildly for the source of the sound.
Azriel winnows, leaning against the wagon the man had been loading before, whistling to get the man attention. He whirls around, black eyes narrowed in anger, freezing in place when they land on him.
“Shadowsinger?” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at Azriel. “What brings you to these parts?”
Azriel looks him over, the smell of shit, piss and rot was overwhelming even from this distance.
“Vale,” Azriel says, to let the male know he knows who he is, rightfully see the fear in his eyes. “I’m looking for something and I hear you’re the one to help me.”
“I ain’t got nothing you need, pretty boy,” Vale sneers, crossing his arms, looking Azriel over. Trying to come off as tough but it’s actually laugh-able.
“Are you sure?” Azriel asks, pushing off the wagon. Letting his wings spread wide, walking closer, towering over the male. “See, I’ve got this female telling me you bought her from her dad and sold her to a pleasure house. I mean, tell me I’m wrong, man. I’ve just gotta check on these things. It’s a pretty serious accusation and all.”
“That chick’s got the wrong guy. I would never do something like that. These bitches are always trying to get us males in trouble,” Vale said, seeming to relax. Big mistake.
“You think so? Just tell me if you know her man. About this tall, really pretty, tan skin, white hair. Wings.” Azriel growls the last word, the man’s eyes widening again, taking a step back.
“Look, man, it’s not like that. Her dad owed me money, so he gave me her instead cause he couldn’t afford to pay me back, okay? So I didn’t technically buy her,” He stammered out, trying to explain himself.
“Oh,” Azriel said, nodding his head. “Well, I mean, if you didn’t technically buy her then no law was broken.”
“That’s right!” The male nods, sighing in relief. “No law was broken, man. I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t do that—”
“Yeah. I get it,” Azriel nods, shifting. Looking towards the building, then back to the low life in front of him. “And that female inside? Did you buy her? Is she here of her own free will allowing you to rape her daily?”
“Fuck,” Vale whispers, turning and running down the cobble stone road. Azriel stands there watching, a grin stretching his lips as he lets the male think he’s getting away.
“Send Morrigan,” He calls out to Rhys as he watches the male.
“She’s coming.”
Then he's gone again, just as Vale looks over his shoulder to try and spot him, only to smack hard into a body that came out of nowhere. He looks at the shadowsinger towering over him, swallowing thickly.
“What do you want from me?” The male nearly cried out as Azriel grabbed him and pulled him up, slamming his face first into a stone wall. The resounding crunch of his nose breaking is ever satisfying.
“Her name is Cassandra,” Azriel snarls into the man's ear. “She told us what you did to her. What you did to that female you have locked in that disgusting building. We know there’s more girls. We will find them all and when we do, I’ll let each one take a turn with you. Their weapon of choice. And you’ll feel exactly what they felt.”
“Ple-please. Please, just kill me,” The man begged, fighting in Azriel’s grasp but he was no match for Azriel’s strength.
“And what kind of justice would that be? Did you stop when those girls begged you to? Did you give them death with they would have preferred that over you using their bodies?” Azriel asked, scenting the smell of urine as the man pissed himself. “You deserve everything you’ve got coming to you.”
Before the pathetic excuse of a male could beg or plead any more Azriel grabbed the back of his head, smashing it into the wall, letting him fall unconscious to the ground. He left him there binded and hidden by shadows, stalking back to the building where he spotted Morrigan easily.
“Don’t tell me this is where he’s been keeping those poor girl?” She asked when she spotted him approaching.
“Unfortunately, I think it is. She said under his house but he could live here. I’ll question him more. I know there’s at least one female inside,” Azriel explained, guiding Morrigan into the building. Be could get the female on his own but he knew it was safer to have a female companion—after all they’d been through the least he could do was make sure a female was the one to comfort them.
They get to that basement floor, unlocking the various locks and pulling the hatch open. It’s as dark and dingy down here as it was in the rest of the building. Morrigan enters first, taking Azriel’s hand to steady herself on the old wobbly stairs.
“Your wings won’t fit down here,” She said, hushed. He nods at her. “Send a shadow if I call for help.” It’s said jokingly but he knows she’s serious. He’d rip the floor from this building to help her if she needed it.
Mor squinted her eyes in the dimness of the sellar, resisting the urge to plug her nose from the horrid smell.
“Hello? Is anyone down here?” She calls out, looking up from at Azriel when there’s no reply. “Hello, my name is Morrigan. I work for the High Lord. The male keeping you here is—”
Morrigan’s cut off when I body slams into hers, knocking her to the ground. She cries out in surprise when a sharp sting slices across her cheek.
“Stop, hey, stop! I’m here to help!” Mor calls out, trying to catch the hands of the female fae on top of her.
“Mor!” Azriel’s deep voice calls.
“I’ve got it!” Mor calls back, grabbing the girls wrists. “Please, stop! Vale is gone! He can’t hurt you, please, stop!”
The girl stops fighting then still tense where she’s straddling Morrigan’s middle section.
“He’s gone?” She whispers and Mor nods.
“Yes, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you any more. I swear,” She promises. Eyes finally able to take in the sight before her.
A fragile, naked, malnourished body sits atop her. Eyes not only shut but scarred as if they’d been cut—maybe by the same person that took Cassandra’s tongue. But what really got Morrigan, what had her ready to lose the contents of her stomach was the rounded belly attached to that nearly skeleton body. Her eyes welled and she helped the female to shift off of her body.
“Are you pregnant?” Mor whispers, trying to keep her voice from breaking as the female nods.
“Please, don’t let him take this one too,” She cries, reaching out to find Morrigan’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Promise me I get to keep my baby.”
“I promise, no one is going to take your baby away from you,” Morgan swears, a single tear falling down her cheek. “What’s your name, sweet girl?”
“Neema, my name is Neema,” She answers and Mors eyes widen. The girl Cassandra told them about.
“You and your baby are safe, Neema. We’re gonna take you away from here, okay?” Morrigan says, standing and helping the pregnant female stand as well.
“I have my friend Azriel here too, he will not touch you, he’s only here to make sure no further harm comes to you. He’s handing me a cloak for you to wear,” Morrigan explains so the female doesn’t feel uncomfortable. She nods, allowing Mor to wrap the cloak around her.
“Are there any other females here?” Azriel asks gently, wishing he hadn’t with the way she clenched at the deep mess of it.
“Not—not that I know of. The females come and go. There’s been no others for months…” Neema answers, grasping the fabric tighter around her body.
Azriel and Mor share a look the last females had to have been Cassandra and the other two she mentioned.
“I’ll stay and check the building before I head back,” Azriel informed, consciously softening his voice so as not to scare the female again.
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Morrigan winnows away with Neema and Azriel searches every inch of the building with his shadows. No signs of any other females. He leaves the building, needing to relieve himself of the horrible stench.
He retrieves the still bound and unconscious male, winnowing him to his dungeon. He strips him, places a gag in his mouth, dumps him into a chair and binds him to it. He would be dealt with later.
The sun would be rising soon and he wanted to be there when they informed Cassandra they found the male and the female—her friend?
He enters Rhys' study, Cassian and Mor there too.
“How is she?” He asks, glancing at Morrigan then his brother.
“Resting,” Rhys answers. “Madja looked her over. Thankfully the baby seems healthy, Madja’s main concern is getting Neema to gain some weight and begin healing herself.”
“We offered her to live amongst the priestesses in the library, she agreed,” Morrigan said, her brown eyes bloodshot and cheeks flushed.
“Good, that’s all good, they’ll help her heal,” Azriel nods his head crossing his arms. “I have the male in my dungeon.”
“Have you gotten any information out of him?” Rhys asks, standing from his desk.
“Not much. He admitted to knowing who Cassandra was, receiving her from her father and holding her. He never admitted to selling her but that information won’t be hard to get out of him,” Azriel explains and Rhys nods in agreement.
“You get whatever information you can out of him and then he’s dead,��� Rhys orders, Azriel doesn’t need to confirm he already knew what Rhys decision would be.
“Are we telling Cassandra?” Cassian asks, the first words he’s said the whole time.
“We are. She needs to know he’s here, it may bring her some comfort knowing he’s locked away and Neema is safe. I think you should be the one to talk to her, Azriel,” Rhy says, turning his attention to the shadow singer.
“Me? Not Mor?” Azriel asked, a bit confused.
“Yes, you. She’s comfortable with you. You’re the one that apprehended him. I believe she would prefer to hear it from you,” Rhys nods.
“Okay, I can do that,” Azriel agreed.
“You handle that, I’ve got some business to attend to with the priestesses. We’ll all meet up in a few hours to discuss further action.” Rhys stepped around his desk, patting Azriel’s shoulder when he passed by him.
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An hour goes by before Azriel tracks Cassandra down. Finding her in the library, flipping through a book where she’s sat in the large window seat that overlooked the city below. A steaming cup of tea next to her.
“I thought you couldn’t read?” Azriel asks, leaning against the door frame, grinning when those green eyes meet his.
“I can’t. I’m looking at the pictures,” She said, holding up the book, some romance book from the looks of the two people in a colorful garden.
“Ah,” Azriel says, walking further into the room. Trying not to focus on the way her eyes track up and down his body the closer he gets. He holds his hand out for the book, flipping it over the read the title, snorting at it. “Secret Garden Romance, huh?”
She shrugs, taking the book back.
“I asked the house for a book with a lot of pictures, this is what I got,” She said, a small sweet breathy laugh escaped her lips and he couldn’t help his own smile.
“Did you end up getting some sleep?” He asks, watching her set the book down and grab the warm mug.
“I slept but not great,” She shrugs. “I can’t stop thinking about my sisters.”
“We’re gonna do everything we can to find them, I promise you that,” Azriel said, not even waiting for a beat. He would find her sisters and he’d beat the shit out of her father too.
“You know I took my older sister's place. It was supposed to be her he sold off but the way she had cried when he told her. I couldn’t let him do that to her so I told him to take me…I didn’t really know what he meant when he was selling me. I thought I’d be a servant like the ones we had when I was a kid or something. I never thought…” She trailed off, taking a deep breath.
“You’re not to blame for what happened to you. You were protecting your sister. You did a very selfless thing. You're safe now and your sisters will be, too,” Azriel said, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned towards her.
“Well, what about you?” Cassandra asked, gently changing the subject. “Did you ever get any sleep?”
Azriel sighed with a head shake. “No, actually. That’s kind of why I came to talk to you.”
Cassandra fixed him with a curious look, leaning forward as if to give him her full attention for whatever he needed to say. He looked into those glowing green eyes, filled with curious concern.
“We found that male. Vale. We found him,” Azriel said, watching the vast range of emotions flash through those emerald eyes.
“He’s here?” Is what she asks, fear tinging her voice. Azriel straightens his back.
“He will not touch you,” he declared, holding her gaze. “He won’t even come near you.”
I’ll fucking kill him if he does. He thinks but doesn’t add it out loud.
“He can’t get out of…wherever he is?” She asks, and he wants to reach out so badly to comfort her. The ache in his chest drawing him to her.
“No. He’s being held in a very secure place. I promise you’re safe here. You’re safe with us.” Azriel promises. You’re safe with me.
“Were there any females with him?” She asks and Azriel nods.
“The girl you told us about, Neema. She was the only one there—it had been only her for months.”
He watches as her eyes fill with tears, offering his hand for her to hold. She takes it, thumb tracing his scars unconsciously.
“Just her…alone with him for months. Gods, is she…I feel like okay isn’t the right word for what I want to ask,” She says, sadness written all over her face.
“She will be okay,” Azriel said. “She’s in bad shape. Pregnant, malnourished but we have an amazing healer and a library below the mountain. Many priestesses live there. Many of them have experienced similar traumas. They’ll help her heal.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment. He wasn’t sure what was going through her head as she sat there silently, grasping his hand and tracing his scars.
“I want him to die.” It’s fierce. Heated. Emotional. And it does something to Azriel’s heart, to his brain. He squeezes her hand. “I want him to feel everything we felt. To know the fear he put us through. I want him to suffer and then I want him to die.”
“He will die. I swear to the Mother. I’ll get every drop of information from him and when it’s time his death will be painful and slow,” Azriel swore, gently swiping a tear from her cheek.
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The next day is a day Cassandra would remember forever. She hadn't slept much the night before but Morrigan had practically begged her to have lunch.
Cassandra wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for a day out in the city but she felt safe with Morrigan. She nearly asked if Azriel could come too until she learned he would be spending the day collecting information from Kamari and Vale.
Morrigan picked out her outfit for the day and it was one of her favorites she’s worn since being here. A flowy silk top that tucked into a dark pair of slacks that raised high on my hips. They emphasized her longer legs in a way she had never noticed before. She had also pinned Cassandra’s hair up and out of her face.
She liked the way Azriel smiled at her when he saw her dressed this way. She blushed but was quickly rushed away by Morrigan, shouting something about wanting you to herself for the day for girl time.
Their first stop was a place she called the River House. A beautiful home that her mother would have loved. Morrigan had only had them stop here briefly to grab a few tote bags, wanting to shop while they were out but promised to bring her back and give her a proper tour of the house.
The city was even more beautiful when you were in it. The sun was shining bright in an endless blue sky. Better than any dreams she had ever had about it.
They went to bakeries, where Cassandra single handedly filled half a tote with various pastries.
Then a clothing shop where Morrigan helped her pick out some new clothes. A few everyday pieces. A gorgeous gown she wasn’t sure where she would wear it but Morrigan swore she would need it sooner or later. And then the softest, satin, dark blue nightgown—it had reminded her of the stones that glowed atop Azriel’s hands. Morrigan herself had picked out quite a few outfits and gowns of her own and a lace set that looked like something the girls in the pleasure houses would wear but she paid no mind to it—she was sure it would look gorgeous on Morrigan wherever she planned to wear it to.
Then they went to a place near the river for lunch, the glistening river was the perfect view while they ate.
“Do you feel like you’re settling in okay?” Morrigan asked, sipping on some kind of iced fruit tea while they waited for their food.
“I’m still…adjusting. I enjoy the company of everyone. I feel like I can trust you all. It’s just odd.” Cassandra says, taking a drink of her tea that was just slightly too sweet but she wasn’t complaining.
“What’s odd?” Morrigan asks gently.
“Trusting strangers more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else,” She says it like a confession, like she should be ashamed for feeling that way.
“I don’t think that’s odd,” Morrigan shrugged. “You’re around people like you, people you can relate to and get to know. It’s easy to feel safe with us in turn, causing your trust. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Cassandra smiles at Morrigan.
Their food comes soon after and they talk the whole time. Morrigan gives her the rundown of how Rhys, Azriel and Cassian all knew one another. She explained more about their titles and what each one of them did as a member of the inner circle. She told her about so much that Cassandra could believe she’d spent her whole live knowing practically none of it.
When they go to a bookstore Cassandra looks at a few before putting them back. Morrigan grabs them and tells her they’ll teach her to read—that she’ll love these books and so many more.
And when they finally get back to the House of a Wind it’s late. She's exhausted from carrying around nearly overflowing tote bags and eating more muffins then she can count.
A top the house where they have to land they’re greeted by the three males. Their solemn faces wiping the smile off your face. She caught Azriel’s eyes, sees the look of pure death there—a look that she just knows means he wants to kill someone.
And just like that, her perfect day with Morrigan took a turn straight down hill.
Tag List: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94 @purple-writer8 @little-missbookyworm @saltedcoffeescotch @namelesssav @slytherintaco @whatsupb @little-missbookyworm
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Pick Your Romance Starter- Dark Fae Addition
Plot/Story: Oh no, you've fallen into the Fae Realm through a circle of mushrooms. How convenient, I mean inconvenient! And look, there's some hot Fae men wanting you're attention...how so very clique. But they're not all flowers and sunshine. That would be too damn easy, wouldn't it?
Warnings: Dark Fae, slight non-con touch, blood, 10k words
Notes: The dry-spell has finally worn off and I present to you a little morsel of writing.
Poll is 'here' (Patreon) and here (Tumblr)to choose which character is written for first!
Poll has been finished! Hezirus got the pick. Here is another poll to choose what type of spicey story you want with him.
This is all based on a world built together with a friend. The characters are OCs of mine we play with and use in our stories together. And for your amusement, and torture for my friend, I have started a series where you pick which one I write for first.
This will be a heavy female x male character story. I apologize to my MxM and FxF readers. But I do plan on making these three fuck eventually. Just because it's fun. 
And by all means, give me ideas and feedback. I crave the attention!
Enjoy!
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The sharp iron-like smell filled your senses and you felt yourself falling. The warm night air turned bitterly cold and the light from the street disappeared into a wall of black. You blinked. The wind whooshing around you was as loud as a hurricane; before your feet slammed onto stone and you stumbled into something hard and cold. And everything went unnaturally quiet.
You opened your eyes. Blinking rapidly to remove the haziness from your vision as you reached out, calling for your friend. It was dark. Too dark for your eyes just yet.
Your fingers found the cold bars of something circling you. Your hand followed it until you pushed away and stood on your own two feet. Swaying a little, the alcohol still affected your body even as the adrenaline coursed through you.
Finally, after some more blinking and squinting into the dark, your eyes adjusted. And horror filled your stomach as you looked around you.
You were in a cage. An iron cage in the center of a dark room. The floor, the pillars, the walls, all made from gray, smoothed stone. Dust layered the ground like a blanket around your small prison. And thick, but empty, cobwebs lined the corners of the room.
It didn’t look like anyone had been in here for…a very long time.
Your eyes caught the faintest touch of blue light on the floor and you looked down. Finding a glowing ring of sigils carved into the floor, fully encircling your cage. And everytime you moved, the strange letters pulsed with energy and that sharp smell filled your nose once more.
Something in you whispered that it was the same diameter of the mushroom circle you had jumped into… And with that thought, horror filled you. It had happened. It actually…worked. But not in the way you expected.
You don’t know how long you stood in that cage for, calling out into the darkness. It was long enough that the effects of tonight's drinks had worn off and the feeling of dehydration was starting to kick in.
The cold of the room settled on your skin like ice. And you tried to huddle up as much as you could, trying to preserve as much body heat as possible. But the cold iron and the freezing stone was sapping away at your warmth like a hungry beast.
Eventually, just as you started to think you’d be in this dark room forever, a door opened. One you didn’t see at the far end of the room that spilled bright, warm sunlight into the shadows. Making the twilight scatter and your eyes hurt from the blinding rays.
“Well, well, well, I thought all my little traps had been sealed off.” A velvety voice echoed from the doorway. The very sound settled on your skin like the breeze of an autumn afternoon. “What a surprise, indeed.”
Something shifted to your right but when you looked, only darkness stared back. Hiding behind a stone pillar, escaping the bright morning light.
You blinked until the sunlight stopped blinding you and the stranger approached. His boots echoed in the empty room as he closed the distance. His face silhouetted by the soft glow of the blue circle at his feet.
He was handsome. Very handsome. The type of handsome you would take a second glance at because you weren’t sure if your brain properly processed his face. His hair was a slight mess, a dark but silky tangle of blonde and deep brown. Matching a gaze that was fixed, but curious. And you felt every inch of your skin alight with a cold fire when those copper coloured eyes raked over your body. Not an inch of you was left untouched by his gaze. And it left you a little breathless when he smiled.
But your mind was racing. A voice deep within your mind was telling you to run. To hide. Get away from this man and never look back.
“What’s your name, sweet thing?” The man asked. The softest curl of a smirk twitching the corner of his lips.
But you didn’t give it. You weren’t stupid. And you remembered what happened. You jumped into a ring of mushrooms and suddenly you were falling. Even if you could blame this on a drunken dream, you still didn’t give this man your name.
When you didn’t reply, the smirk stretched fully across the stranger's face. “Ah, so you’re smart. That’s cute. I haven’t had a smart one in a long time. Come along, then. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re exactly what I need to make up for my little blunder last night.”
The cage groaned around you and three of the metal bars slid into the ground. Allowing you a doorway to step out of your small prison and into the stream of light from the door.
The stranger didn’t look at you as he led the way out of the cold stone room. But still addressed you as you stepped out into the light. “My apologies for leaving you in that cold room all night. We had a little…accident, and I was busy until this morning.”
The man led you into a long corridor of more stone. Though the temperature was vastly more welcoming than the room, it was just as empty and just as dusty. You passed many doors like the one from where you landed. Some were left open, revealing more empty areas with a single cage. Others were closed but something dark marked the metal entryway. It looked suspiciously like old blood.
If this stranger saw you staring, he didn’t give any move to answer your unspoken questions. He led you up a spiraling staircase and a door of heavy carved wood and granite, creaked open before he touched it. Opening up into a sprawling room of many desks and shelves and cabinets.
“Clean her.” The stranger said. And from beneath the desks, dark tendrils launched towards you. Black, clawed hands wrapped around your wrists and ankles. Icy cold fingers latched onto your throat, squeezing just enough to silence the scream of fright from your lungs. Iron strength yanked you forward, making your attempts at fleeing fruitless as you were dragged towards a large basin.
More arms of shadows rose from the stone floor and you watched as steaming hot water was poured into the tub. Buckets of water manifesting from darkness and then disappearing when dropped to the floor.
You didn’t get to take a breath before you were lifted and then dumped into the basin. Hot water burned your skin and drenched your clothes. You gasped for air, but a cold hand slammed your head back under the water and you felt harsh bristles scrape over your bare skin. Something sweet smelling poured onto your hair as your head was yanked back out of the water for a brief moment
You coughed and spluttered, barely getting a breath in before you were dunked back into the water.
Your clothes were torn away. Despite your best effort to keep them against your skin, the material ripped apart under the strength of these shadowy limps. You wrapped your arms around your chest, obscuring the man’s beautiful gaze from seeing too much.
His smile was too sweet. Too wide as you were finally released and you turned your back to him. Your skin burned from the brush and soap. Your hair felt silky and smelled like a field of freshly bloomed flowers. But you were completely bare in front of him.
“That’s much better.” The man said. Leaning against a desk nearby. His molten gaze took in every inch of you before he waved his hand and a shadow presented him with a dress. “Wear this. It suits you much better than…whatever else you were wearing.”
When you didn’t get out of the tub, the man sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he turned around so he was leaning against the desk with his palms on the surface of the table. “I won’t look. Go on, try it on.”
You hesitated. But already the water was starting to get cold and you couldn’t sit in here forever. Curled up and shivering. You sighed heavily and carefully slipped out of the water.
Another shadow appeared beside you with a towel. But it didn’t allow you to take it. Instead, it dried you off, harshly rubbing the soft material against your body until your skin felt sore from the material. But dry.
You grumbled a curse towards the man and snatched the dress from the floating shadow.
Surprisingly, the man kept his word and didn’t turn around. Until you were in the dress and staring down at yourself in horror.
The material was thin…extremely thin… You might as well stand in front of him naked without the gentle glimmer of the sparkly dress. And it was very tight. You could see every curve of your breasts and hips, down to your thighs before the dress spilled out around your feet like a bronze ink spill. The only saving grace to this material was that it darkened around your chest and lower center. Refusing to give a full, clean picture of your body that was hidden beneath the dress.
It didn’t stop the perked peaks of your nipples from the cold air. And the stranger hummed a low sound in his throat as he adjusted the sleeve of the dress and picked at some imaginary lint on your waist.
“Much, much better.” The man said. He started to circle you. His eyes scraped over your body as you stood frozen under his gaze. He picked at the dress and the shadows appeared with trinkets and jeweled chains. Your wrists were wrapped in silk and your neck was decorated by a thin, delicate silver chain with topaz stones resting warmly against your neck. A belt of lace loosely circled your hips and your cheeks were assaulted by a dusting of red. Giving you a small blush before cold hands grabbed your face and the man stepped closer.
His forefinger lengthened, growing a black claw that came to a dangerously pointed tip. And you tried to yank yourself away from him but the shadows held you firmly in place. You could only watch in growing horror as the dark talon descended towards your eye…and cautiously drew a line along your upper lashes. Then the man delicately did the same on the other. Giving you a perfect dark eye-liner flick.
The man then stood back. His other hand held your chin as he tilted your face back and forth, admiring the touches he did to you. The shadows relaxed when you did. And you allowed this stranger to do what he wished with your face.
“What’s your name?” You asked him. Finding this close proximity with the handsome face was filling your chest with sharp flutters. You could see the finer details. The sharp, pointed ears. The tattoos under the collar of his shirt and the dusting of gold along his face. Perhaps a decorative choice?
“Jackal Borcalas, Royal Archivist and Spy Master of the Wilds” His smile was predatory. Proud. Cocky. As if the widening of your eyes gave him a sense of smugness. “But Jackal is fine, sweet thing. And yours?”
He said it so casually you almost willingly gave it to him. Like carrying on a normal conversation. But you clapped your mouth shut and glared up at Jackal. Rewarding yourself with a laugh from the Spy Master.
“Ah, well, you can’t blame a man for trying.” Jackal said, shrugging. Then his hands moved from your face down to your body. Adjusting chains and bracelets and anything else the shadows had placed on you.
But you found his hand barely touched you. His fingers brushed over your hips but didn’t linger for too long. The pads of his fingers glossed over your perked nipples but his eyes didn’t stray any longer than they needed. His attention was too focused on his task that you doubted he even knew where he was touching.
“Gorgeous.” Jackal purred. And despite the hungry look in his eyes, you sensed the genuine compliment behind his words. Or was that just a…Fae thing to get you comfortable around him. “Now, a few things before I throw you to the wolves.”
You felt the blood drain from your face with his words. And that wicked smile returned, alongside the cold touch of shadows as they wrapped around your legs and started moving them. You felt like a doll on strings, puppeteered after Jackal as he turned and exited the room.
Your captor led you into more corridors and halls. Many stone steps and coloured glass windows that bathed you in greens and golds and bronze. You didn’t get to look around. The shadows had you transfixed on watching Jackal’s back as he walked through…wherever you were.
“If you want to live through the day, you will follow these rules to the absolute letter. Do not look directly into his eyes. He gets…crabby when you do it for too long. And keep your hands off of him unless he places them somewhere. He doesn’t like to be touched. Do not turn your back on him unless he tells you to do so, and for the love of the Moon, do not touch his horns. Just…keep your hands to yourself unless you’re ordered otherwise.” Jackal said all this while he led you towards a massive metal door. The shadows relieved their hold just enough that you could finally look around you. But your gaze was transfixed on the entrance before you.
Towering above you was a grotesque, twisted display of melted weapons and armor. Swords Maces Axes Shields Any and all kinds had been liquified against the doors. You spotted helmets and chest plates carved through with spears. All dented, all worn, from battle.
“Oh, and also, for my later entertainment, keep yourself alive.” Jackal whispered, looking over your shoulder at him. “We haven’t had a human here in…centuries. So try to make your stay last a little longer than a few minutes.”
With a wave of Jackal’s hand, the war-torn doors opened with an ear-clawing sound of metal on the stone floor.
A blast of heat slammed into you as a voice as deep as thunder growled from within a dimly lit room. “What do you want, snake?” Your very bones vibrated with the voice. And a knot of fear coiled in your stomach as Jackal entered the room.
The shadows had you follow him and you entered a room that was more like a throne room. It was a vast space of furs and blankets. Blazing fires were cradled in braziers along the walls and candles flickered on hanging chandeliers made of bone and skulls. The scent of sulfur and burning meat filled your nose and you tried not to gag as you passed a body laying on the floor. Three deep gashes tore up the person’s back and blood pooled around their limp body. Their face twisted in agony and terror.
Jackal didn’t even look at it. He continued to stroll into the heated room towards a pile of furs and hides.
“I brought you a gift.” Jackal said. His voice echoing in the massive room. Mixing with the heavy breathing of something huge in front of you. The shadows didn’t let you go. They kept you firmly in place behind Jackal.
Something sniffed the air. And you felt the very air around you shift with each deep breath. You started shaking as the tiled floor trembled. The blast of heat came closer and closer. The heat in the room roared and you felt like your arms were being scorched by a blazing fire. Your ears popped and the tremble through the floor halted, but you heard the distinct sound of bare feet stepping over tile towards you.
And then Jackal stepped to the side and you were suddenly staring at a broad chest of muscle and scales.
The shadows released your head. Allowing you to look up, almost craning your neck all the way back, to meet a burning red gaze of a man. He was massive, much taller than 6ft and broad, rippling with muscle. Scars streaked across his arms and chest, giving a stark pale contrast to his dark complexion. A creature of war and battle.
But what was more terrifying was the plating of black scales that protruded from his dark skin. Horns swept out from atop his head. Splitting apart thick, shiny black hair that was braided amongst the crown of thick spikes. And his gaze was heavy. Watching. Calculating.
Jackal tsked harshly and you quickly dropped your eyes. Remembering what Jackal had said only moments before.
The man in front of you growled, a deep rumble that rippled through you like thunder. “A human?” A voice of stone sounded surprised. And you flinched when a massive hand wrapped around your waist, his fingers almost completely encircling your hips, and yanked you closer.
Black scales filled your vision as the man buried his nose into your hair. You felt him take a deep breath and the growl turned into something like a broken purr as the man laughed a cynical chuckle. “Is this your way of saying sorry, snake?” The scaled man snapped at Jackal. Releasing you before stalking over to the much smaller man.
Despite their size difference, and the display of bared teeth from the other man, Jackal remained perfectly calm. His hands resting behind his back as if he was having a casual conversation with someone.
“This is my way of mending my mistake.” Jackal replied slowly. “Hezirus will want her for himself. But I thought you should get some time with her before she’s claimed entirely. I thought it would be a nice…treat, Maahes, from me to you. From a friend.”
That word brought a snarl out of Maahes. Like he didn’t like how it sounded coming out of Jackal’s mouth. “Watch it, snake. You almost cost me my territory last night. A morsel won’t make up for that blunder.”
“Then let it be the start of my amendment to you.” Jackal titled his chin down in a submissive display. And whatever rage Maahes had, seemed to melt away. You felt the sharp tang of something hit your nose and suddenly the beast in front of you roared.
Claws raked through the marble pillar where Jackal had been standing moments before. Then you felt the shadows retreat and Jackal was standing in the doorway behind you. An amused smile across his lips
Maahes roared again, crimson eyes glowing with a surge of anger. “Keep your filthy magic out of my head!”
The doors slammed closed with a thunderous bang as Jackal laughed. Leaving you alone with a creature that was practically shaking with rage.
Your eyes swooped to the floor when the beast looked at you. You heard the click of claws as he approached. Two dark tree trunks entered your view and you realized he was standing right in front of you. He at least wasn’t naked, wearing a loose pair of dark trousers. But the thin dress did very little to make you feel protected at this moment.
“What is your name?” Maahes asked. You didn’t respond, cowering in front of him. The beast snarled and a rough grip wrapped around the underside of your jaw and forced you to look up at him. You kept your gaze from staring into the pools of rubies, looking at the scar that carved down his neck and to his collarbone. “I am not a Fairy, sweet morsel. I won’t use your name against you. What do I call you?”
You felt him lift you a little. Until you were standing on your tiptoes to stop him from choking you. “(y/n)” You managed to say. And the grip released you.
“Get me a drink, (y/n).” Your name rolled on his tongue like he was tasting you through those words. It sounded awfully sinful to hear it. And you quickly hurried over to the table by the dead body. Where an array of goblets and bottles were laid out. You choose the largest cup and fill it with an amber liquid. You had to carry it with both hands to ensure it didn’t spill and didn’t strain one arm too much. Hurrying back to Maahes, who had returned to lounge on the pile of furs. Which even his massive frame seemed to be swallowed by the vast mattress of pelts.
The beast rumbled. But it wasn’t an aggressive sound. You almost thought he sounded pleased as you carefully climbed onto the furs and offered him the wine. He took the cup from your hands. And as he pressed the wine to his lips, his free hand lashed out and took purchase of your hips before you attempted to step away.
You couldn’t fight him. The amount of strength beneath those fingers alone was enough to pull you towards him with barely any effort.
You found yourself flush against his side. His scales, rough and jagged, pushed painfully against your soft skin. And once you were positioned how he wanted, the hand moved down to cup your ass. His talons caught on the material of your dress as he squeezed hard. Making you wince a little.
“How did the snake manage to catch you?” Maahes asked. Placing his cup precariously on a position of the bed as he moved so he was on top of you. His nose scraped against your neck and you felt his teeth playfully pull at the silver chain around your throat. “Trapping humans was outlawed centuries ago. Did he say some pretty words and you were suddenly here? Or did you fall through a mirror?”
His words were surprisingly teasing for how rough his hands were on your body. The pads of his fingers were calloused and coarse, sweeping along your thighs before moving you so he could settle between your legs. He was massive above you. Obscuring the ceiling and bone chandeliers with his mass.
You explained what happened. Recalling the ring of mushrooms on the side of the walkway on your way home. The stupid decision to test fate and jump into the circle. Laughing, thinking nothing would come of it. And then accidentally said ‘we’ jumped in, and those crimson eyes pulsed intensely.
“There’s two of you?” Maahes asked. Glancing at the door as if Jackal was about to come through it again with another person. You said you didn’t see your friend in the cage and the man shrugged. Returning his mouth to the hollow of your neck. His lips sending goosebumps along your skin as his hot breath bathed along your chest.
It was a long moment of licking and hard nips along your neck before Maahes changed position. Burying his face against your breasts. Even through the dress, you could feel his mouth hungrily take in your left nipple and rake his tongue over the peak.
“No matter. I’ll feast on you first before I worry about someone else's pet.” You felt him shift against you and something huge and hard pressed against your clothed core. Then Maahes raised his mouth and a burning hot tongue seared along your neck, carrying the smell of wine and meat along your flesh, up to your cheek before your lips were harshly trapped between Maahes’.
Your struggling only seemed to amuse Maahes. As you tried to push him off and twist away from him. But just as he forced your lips open with his tongue, the doors to the room blasted open in a cold gust of wind. The flames around you simmered out under the gust and the chandeliers swung wildly above you.
Maahes growled and tore his mouth from yours. He poised above you like a beast protecting a kill. Thick arms caging you against the bed as the sound of his snarl ripped through you. You could feel the vibrations through your core, from where his covered bulge was firmly pressed against your core.
You turned your head, peering around Maahes’ arms to see a gorgeous man standing in the streaming sunlight. Like an angel, wings of bronze and gold framed his tall figure and a thick set of arms were crossed over his chest. Lines crinkled his perfect brow and long chocolate brown hair was kept away from his face by a gold crown of gnarled vines and flowers.
“Maahes,” The man said the beast’s name like a warning. But his tone was playful, teasing. “What have you got there?”
Maahes’ snarl crumbled into a softer sound. But he didn’t move from atop of you. His talons ripped into the furs as his hands turned to fists beside your body. “She’s mine.”
“Not anymore she isn’t.” The angel said. Stepping into the dark room, closer to the creature that was bent low over your frozen body. “I caught her scent on my way to breakfast. I don’t know how Jackal got her, but she’s a guest in my palace. I won’t have you break her on her first morning here.”
Soft, bronze eyes fell upon you and his smile softened. But those warning bells in your head were singing again. Even more so than they had with Jackal. “Give her to me, Maahes.” The man said, his wings opening a touch to make him seem so much bigger than he was. “I won’t ask again.”
The beast above you growled deep and threatening. You braced for something to happen. Another gust of wind. A fist. Claws. Something.
But then the heavy, hot weight of Maahes disappeared as he crawled off of you. And you scrambled off the bed to stand beside the winged man. Hiding behind him as his wing opened to protect you from Maahes’ heated gaze. “Good boy.” The crowned stranger said. A very careful smile placed over his lips. “Do not let me catch you playing with her again.”
Maahes’ gaze lowered to the furs. But you could see the tension in his body and the thick, throbbing vein that was protruding from his neck. He bowed. “Yes, Prince Hezirus.”
That seemed to be enough for the…prince. And he turned, his wing shifting to envelope you in a warm embrace against your back and guiding you out of the room.
The heavy doors slammed shut behind you both. And the wings of the prince moved to lazily return to his back. A different type of heat simmered in his gaze when the prince turned to you. A striking difference from the softness he offered you before. “Now, human, you will tell me how you got here. And why you’re…dressed the way you are.” Despite the quizzical tone, Prince Hezirus’ eyes were just as hungry and heavy as Jackal’s when you first got dressed. You instinctively tried to cover yourself but a narrowed glare from the person in front of you made you halt.
Your arms dropped to your sides as you explained everything. But this time, you kept the ‘we’ out of it. Only insinuating that you alone jumped into the very obvious Fae trap.
“But you know our customs,” The prince hummed. Tilting his head like how a dog did when it was intrigued by something. “You won’t give me your name. You even called the circle a trap. So…you knew what it was.”
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. The drunken stupor of a joke was now very obviously a suicide sentence. “I didn’t think it would work.” You argued. “I was…drunk.”
“Superstition has kept your people alive longer than you’d think. You should start listening to your fable stories, there’s a reason they exist.” The prince began walking and you hurried to follow. The tall man, possibly as tall as the beast on the furs, didn’t shorten his strides to let you keep up. Instead, you had to fasten your steps to almost jog alongside him.
“Where am I?” You asked. Finally looking at your surroundings. There were large paintings that covered the towering walls. The ceiling looked like marble with many hanging candles and torches to illuminate what the sun couldn’t. Massive glass windows bathed your walk with the prince in color. But at least this time you could see the shapes of beasts and battles and fields of flowers as you passed them.
It was all very beautiful.
“You’re in the Fae Wilds. My kingdom.” The prince replied. His chin tilted up with pride as he spoke. “I am Prince Hezirus of the Wilds. Son of Queen Melusine, the Lady of the Forest. You’re in my palace in the deepest forest of our kingdom. My…holiday home, I guess you would call it.”
You stalled for a moment to peek through one of the windows. Spying the grounds of the estate that sprawled out in grassy knolls and flowing creeks that sliced through lush gardens and tumbled through the gnarled roots of mountainous trees.
There were people working in the gardens and some walked the earthy paths through the estate. Someone even started flying into the branches of a nearby tree. With wings like an insect.
A soft cough from the prince made you turn. Finding him standing by the cliff of a long stairwell that led down and into the center of the palace. You quickly hurried back to his side and started descending next to him.
“It’s beautiful.” You said. Unable to keep your eyes on one thing at a time. A man walked past you both, bowing deeply to the prince before walking briskly away. His features reminded you of a rat.
“Thank you. But you will have time to see everything soon. I want you to join me for breakfast.” The prince said. And you followed him down a corridor and into a grand hall. A long table was presented before you. Its surface was chock-full of plates and bowls of food. All steaming, like the dishes had just come out of the oven.
At the end of the table sat a beautifully crafted chair of twisted roots and vines. The cushions looked as soft as clouds and a plate of sourdough bread, bathed in eggs and bacon with a drizzle of white sauce, was sitting awaiting the prince.
Hezirus waved his hand and a chair pulled itself from the table next to the prince. And Hezirus gestured for you to sit, before he flicked his hand and the chair pushed you snugly against the table. A plate was placed in front of you by an owl-faced woman and the prince seated himself in his chair.
Leaning his cheek on his fist, propped up by his elbow on the table, he watched you curiously. “Please, eat. Enjoy.”
The smells of everything laid out in front of you was maddening. Your stomach twisted in hunger and the slight hangover that had plagued you with a headache, wished for water. But you didn’t reach for any of it. And watched the prince take his gaze off you just enough to take a bite out of his egg smothered bread slice.
“So now you start to believe in your fables?” The prince asked. An amused smile twitching his lips as he chewed. “I do not need to charm you to keep you here, lovely thing. You may eat freely. This food is not poisoned and untouched by magic. Other than what is needed to prepare certain dishes.”
You still didn’t reach for anything. Not even the water. Which sat chilled in a glass pitcher in front of you. Like it was teasing you. You shook your head. “Thank you. But I’ll skip breakfast.”
The prince’s eyes flashed gold and suddenly you were reaching for the water. You tried with all your might to stop yourself from pouring a glass, but your hands worked just like they did when the shadows had hold of you.
Puppeteered.
Helpless.
You tried to cry out as your fingers brought the glass of water to your lips. But your body defied you. And you sipped cleanly, without choking, a long draught of water down your parched throat. Once you had placed the glass down you felt your body return to your control and you stood. Almost knocking the chair over as you jerked away from the table.
“Like I said, I do not need to charm you to make you stay.” The prince said. As if you had asked about the weather. So casually glossing over what he just did. “Your tales of us are true…in some sense. But we hold more power than we allowed you to believe. Please. Eat. You look like you’re about to pass out. And I won’t tell you again. You won’t like it if I have to do it myself.”
It was true. You could feel the edge of your mind falling into a dizzy spiral. And the thought of you passing out in front of him made the hunger turn to fear. You shook your head, clearing it, and sat down before your legs gave out. And begrudgingly served yourself some pancakes.
And it was the best thing you’ve ever eaten. Whether it was because of hunger, or the Fae chefs, it was delicious. Even the fruit you ate was sweet and juicy. Perfect. Also too perfect.
But if you didn’t eat, you were sure he’d probably force you too. So, you gave in. As much as the logical side of the brain was screaming at you to stop.
The prince’s gaze never left your lips as you ate. His eyes were persistently on you, even as he devoured his own breakfast and poured a cup of something that smelled strongly of coffee.
“Did Jackal explain anything to you before he shoved you into a room with a horny Drake?” The prince asked. An eyebrow raising when you told him of the rules Jackal gave you. And you added on that you were meant to be a treat, as a means of amendment from Jackal.“At least he wanted you to live through the morning. And yes, Jackal made a small mistake last night. Maahes exaggerates, it wasn’t so bad he’d lose his territory. He’s just angry he lost a bet at all. You were lucky I found you before Maahes went too far. I do enjoy it when Maahes is rough with me. But your delicate body would snap apart the moment he pulls down his pants.”
The rush of heat that exploded in your body, crawling up your neck and into your cheeks made the prince chuckle. “That’s adorable. But also very dangerous. Don’t do that around Maahes. If he gets whiff that you’re into things like him, you’ll be chained to his hips and riding his cock until your body breaks.”
You tried to argue. Maybe say something that it wasn’t arousal, but shock at the prince’s choice of words. But the prince shot you a look that silenced your rebuttal before it began. “I can smell it on you, pet. Don’t even try lying to my face. It won’t end well for you.” His words carried a threat that made your skin crawl with a chill. Even if his tone was light and teasing. Something in his gaze had your heart racing.
“What are you going to do to me?” You asked. You wanted to know, so you could at least brace for whatever was about to happen to you. How many books have you read about similar scenarios? You had the hot, sexy men part ticked off. A strange, weird place in the Fae realm, checked. But this wasn’t a romance. You were just left to the mercy of a creature with scales. Given a hint at the power that could make you do anything the man in front of you wanted.
Your life very much was in danger right now.
“Hmm, I’m not sure yet.” The prince said. Leaning back in his chair as he regarded you with a critical eye. Like he was appraising a piece of art. “But I’m sure you’re asking if I’m going to kill you. Eat your bones. Turn you into a…I don’t know. What do we Fae do to humans? It’s been centuries since I’ve talked to one. But you never forget the scent.” The prince breathed in deeply and released it slowly with a long sigh. When his eyes opened, his pupils were blown wide like he was intoxicated.
“Such a delicious fragrance. It used to drive me mad in my youth. The lust. The hunger. Oh, fuck, the sex…” The prince finally looked at you again. As if suddenly remembering you were there and had asked a question. “No, dear pet, I am not going to kill you. Some of my court might try. But I’ve already ordered them that you are to be untouched. Left only for me to squeeze.”
He flashed you a smile that made his already handsome face become even more beautiful. “Anyone that tries to force themselves on you will meet my wrath. You are welcome to wander the palace. I do suggest staying as far away from Maahes as possible. And don’t go into the gardens until-”
“If I may, Hez.” The sudden voice of Jackal made you jump as he appeared by your side. Seeming to appear out of thin air as he joined you at the table. Sitting to your right. “I suggest we keep her caged until the staff and court get used to the scent of her in the estate. Already there has been enough unrest that Maahes has had his fill of Fae blood. She will be safer in the dungeons until you solidify the order for her to remain untouched.”
The prince played with the fabric of his tunic as he thought over Jackal’s words. His eyes following the line of your neck to your shoulders and then to the material that smothered your breasts into a perfect soft mound. “You make a good point, Jackal. However…because it was your trap that brought her here, she is your responsibility.”
Jackal’s jaw twinged as he glanced at you. “Hez, I cannot afford to be distracted from my work. I cannot continuously check on her in the cells-”
“Then have her in your office until you ensure she won’t be touched down there.” The prince smiled. A sense of amusement flashing over his face as he winked at you. “Jackal will take fine care of you until I have time for you, pet. Stay close to him and do what he says.”
A sharp scent ripped through your nose and you winced as your mind latched onto the words the prince spoke. An order. An order given by a Fae prince laced with…magic.
“I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try and run from me.” Jackal said. Sighing heavily as he took a sausage from one of the plates and took a bite from it. “Come on then, Lily. Time to watch me do paperwork for hours on end.”
“Lily?” Hezirus asked as Jackal stood. You felt your body follow suit. But it wasn’t anything like the cold touch of shadows or the constricting power from Hezirus. You wanted to follow Jackal. You were told to do as he said, and damn well you will do it.
“It’s not her name.” Jackal assured the prince. “She’s as lovely as a lily. So, that’s what I’ll call her.”
“Hmm, I don’t think that suits her.” Hezirus said thoughtfully. Tilting his head as he looked you up and down again.
“Well, she’s your pet. You pick a name for her.” Then Jackal smiled viciously and tapped the tip of your nose. “Or are you going to introduce yourself?”
When your glare was the only reply they got, the two men laughed and Jackal clicked his tongue. You followed him like a puppy on a leash, up many staircases and through many corridors. Until you found yourself back in the room you started in. Where the basin had now been emptied of water but the room still smelled of the shampoo in your hair.
“Sit.” Jackal ordered. And your body slumped into a wooden chair by a large desk. One that was covered in many long pieces of parchment and piles of books. A few empty ink pots were put to the side. While a stack of new ones awaited to be used. “You might want to get comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”
You looked around. Attempting to get comfortable in the wooden chair next to Jackal’s desk. Much unlike the plush, armchair-like seat he possessed, the wood was hard against your ass and the surface cold to the touch.
A few minutes passed as Jackal opened a few books and arranged them to stand in small holders to keep them open. He arranged paper out in front of him and then opened a thick, leather bound book by his left hand. You tapped your fingernails against the wood of the chair. Already insane from the quiet of the room.
“Can I have a book or something?” You asked. And Jackal scoffed a laugh.
“I doubt I have anything here that you can read. It’s all documents and spellbooks; all in languages you can’t read.” Jackal waited for you to argue. But when you didn’t give a rebuttal about knowing more languages than one, he left it to rest. “If you’d like to pass the time, you’re more than welcome to pass the time on me.” The smile was playful. Menacingly teasing as he smirked at you when your cheeks flushed pink.
“You’re not going to order me to do that?” You asked scornfully. And Jackal shrugged, plucking a quill from its seat in an ink pot and started writing.
“I could. Since Hezirus gave you the order to do whatever I say. Or I could force you to do it with my servants. But it’s not as much fun when the giver uses teeth and tries drawing blood every second.” At the word ‘servants’ the shadows from beneath the desks nearby came alive and crawled over the floor towards you. You pulled your dress away from the curious clawed hands and the room filled with whispered laughter as you gasped in horror.
Jackal tsked and the shadows scattered. Returning to being nothing more than dark spots under the desks. “Now hush, I have to concentrate.”
You must have dozed off somewhere after the third hour mark of sitting and doing nothing. The room was bitterly cold now and you shifted in your seat. Trying to find a comfortable position when a touch of fire brushed over your thigh.
You jerked awake. Startling when you came face to face with Jackal. Who had turned his chair towards you and was sitting almost directly between your legs. Both of his hands were coiled around your right thigh. Molding the cool skin with his fingers so gently that it almost tickled.
“Get your hands-”
“Shush, I’m thinking.” Jackal barked back. And the harshness of his voice froze you in place. Or was it the order to do as he says? You had no idea, but you knew that you were helpless in that chair as he squeezed your leg like he was kneading dough into shape. Scraping his palm along your skin through the velvety material of your dress. You had to lean back as he lifted your calf and draped your leg over his lap. You were left completely open to him in this position. But Jackal didn’t seem to notice.
He never went any higher than your upper thigh. His eyes were distant, staring at your chest but not actually paying attention to the shape of your cleavage. It was just the last place he looked before his thoughts trailed off.
You kept quiet. At least welcoming the warmth from Jackal’s lap and touch over your chilled skin.
Any longer here and you were going to freeze. You’d even welcome the harsh treatment of the hot bath just to warm you up. The dress was useless against the breeze that blew in from the open window. And the sun was beginning to go down.
Shit…have you already been here the entire day? No wonder your back was killing you.
Jackal startled you by humming and dropping your leg from his lap. Non-delicately letting your bare foot slap against the stone and you shuffled back onto the chair. He returned to his desk and started feverishly writing something down.
You stayed silent. Kicking your leg over the other to try and savor some of the tingling warmth from Jackal’s fingers. You hated how tenderly he had touched you. Because your core kind of enjoyed the attention.
The sky outside was pitch black and somewhere in the castle, you heard distant screams. It had started some hours ago and had long since lost its pitch. But the volume was still there. Telling you of the absolute agony that was ripping through someone.
“It’s no one you know.” Jackal assured you. Seeing your worried expression. “Maahes told me that there was a second human that jumped in the trap with you. And so far, I haven’t found them. Even if someone already claimed your friend, there would be traces of her. When a Fae consumes or fucks a human there’s…changes.”
That was at least comforting. But hearing such visceral cries turned your blood cold and nausea twisted in your stomach.
They were cut off rather quickly some hours after nightfall. And you weren’t sure if the silence following it was worse or better.
Jackal leaned back in his chair and stretched. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the toned body beneath the fine black tunic. But you tore your eyes away just as Jackal glanced at you.
“You’ve been rather quiet…Oh, right, I told you to shush. You can talk now. I don’t need to think for a bit.”
“I was going to say to get your hands off me.” You snapped. Suddenly finding an urge to speak now Jackal told you so. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
“But you’re so soft and warm.” Jackal practically purred. His arms hanging over the back of his chair as he stared at you. And this time, he really stared at you. With an intensity that had you looking away and a fresh wave of heat flooding your center. And that little nibble of his bottom lip was an added unfair flare.
“You’re disgusting.” You mumbled.
“I’m sure you'll change your mind eventually.” Jackal chuckled. The molten copper turned sharp once more as he returned them to the desk full of freshly scrawled paper. “If you were literate I’d have you read these so I can rest my eyes. But you’re unfortunately not that useful.”
“I can read.” You hissed and Jackal rolled his eyes. Lowering his arms so they came to rest on the desk.
“Can you read dwarvish?” Jackal asked. Then he clicked his tongue when you huffed a curse at him and turned your head away again. “Like I said, illiterate. Shame…it would have been cute having you sit on my lap while you read this over.”
“Fuck off.”
Jackal laughed and sighed. The breath was heavy as it filled his lungs. “I better get you to your cell before I let your arousal do anymore to me. Get up, little flower. And stay close. Maahes is wandering the halls looking for a chance to drag you under him again. And Hezirus is busy ensuring the court doesn’t devour you through the night. So, I’m all you have keeping you alive until we get you to your cage.”
You stood before your mind could think of doing so. And then you were walking beside Jackal through the palace, a step behind him. “What is stopping Maahes from…getting in my..cage?” It sounded weird to say. And you dearly hoped it wasn’t going to be a cage in the middle of a room like the one you appeared in.
“Hezirus.” Jackal replied, as a matter of factly. “Our prince holds alot of power. And not even a Drake as powerful as Maahes can disobey his orders while in his own home. He’ll try to lure you to his bed chambers, or the floor, I’m sure. But as long as you keep saying ‘no’, you’ll be safe.”
“That’s all that is stopping him from…you know…”
“Words hold more power here than your world, sweet flower. And Hezirus has explicitly ordered your words are the rules to your body. So, be mindful when speaking to anyone here. It might save your life.”
You trailed alongside Jackal as he took you deeper into the palace. Down even more stairs and corridors, until he stopped outside of a steel door. You weren’t stupid. This was a dungeon, deep under the palace. You could smell bile and filth from the other locked rooms. And the air was cold and thick.
But there were no guards here. Only the flickering torches along the walls and the soft, pained whimpering of the other prisoners.
“I had your cell cleaned before I brought you down here.” Jackal said. As if his words made it all better as the door to the cell opened without him touching it. Revealing a cramped, dark room. A cot was pushed into the corner. Merely a wooden pallet with hay stuffed into the crevasses and a thin blanket covering the splintering wood.
The pillow looked thin and splotched with gray marks.
“I’m going to freeze down here.” You said. Pulling at the stretchy material of your outfit. “This is barely going to keep me warm.”
“That’s Hezirus’ problem, not mine.” Jackal replied.
Then a hard cold force slammed into you and you stumbled into the cell. The door creaked shut and you heard a lock click into place. You rushed to the door as Jackal opened the little slit, allowing you to see his copper eyes through the darkness.
“Whenever Hezirus remembers his pet is down here, I’m sure he’ll provide you with all the best luxuries your little human body needs.” Jackal said with a roll of his bright eyes. “I, however, do not have time to babysit you at every minute. So, you’ll sit down here, in the dark, like a good girl until things settle. My servants swarm this place, so you’re safe. Just don’t make too much noise. Or you’ll attract some unwanted attention. Get some sleep, little flower. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”
You beat your fists against the door as the slit slid closed. Calling after Jackal in a colorful array of words and sentences. Some even got an impressed whistle out of the spy-master before you heard his boots disappear.
You retreated from the door when someone screamed from a nearby cell. The whispering laughter of shadows echoed through the darkness in response.
You went to the cot. The wood creaked under your weight as you curled up against the corner of the room. Gathering the thin blanket around you. Ignoring the itchiness from the hay and tried very hard not to think of bugs crawling in your hair or down along your arms.
You tried to stay awake. Something was moving beyond the cell door but it never came any closer. Someone would scream or start crying. Another would start begging. Only to be silenced by a harsh hiss that made your blood run cold.
You curled up tighter and closed your eyes. Hoping the sun would scatter the shadows when it rose.
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redbleedingrose · 1 year
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A popular winter trope that I always see (or would it be considered more of a concept?) is person A sticking their hands up person B’s shirt to warm their hands on person AB’s stomach. How do you think each of the bat boys + favorite Vanserra bros would react to that? (Especially considering the headcanon that fae males give off a lot of body heat)
Hi love <333
Amazing question, sorry for the late response!!! I literally am in love with this trope!
Rhysand
This male would not even flinch. I think he would be the kinda male to pull you by the hips into an embrace if you did that or pull you into his lap so that his heat radiates even more. He would probably go about doing whatever needs to be done, and he would do so silently holding you against him.
He would let out his wings so that they could wrap around you as he continues working and moving around.
He would absolutely press an occasional kiss to your nose or lips or forehead and just continue on with his work.
Busy high lord.
But whenever he is done, he would lift you up into his arms and settle into the couch in his office in front of the hearth and would spend the rest of the evening murmuring softly into your hair, using his warm hands to stroke your back.
Cassian
LMAO Cassian would absolutely let out a yelp. I think you like to do this playfully, just to get a reaction out of him or tease him. Sometimes you stuff your cold hands up his shirt to rest on his sensitive nipples chest and sometimes you stuff this up the back of his shirt to rest in the space between his wings.
He would immediately clock in that you are a little cold, even though you were doing it to mess with him, and would throw you over his shoulder and carry you to bed for some snuggles.
He would absolutely insist on doing these snuggles naked because "direct body heat sweetheart, can't let anything get in the way"
Anyway.
This may or may not devolve into him warming you up in some not so safe for work ways...
Azriel
Poor male is so worried about you constantly. He always wants you comfortable and happy around him and is going out of his way to make sure that you are doing okay.
If you even give him the slightest hint of discomfort, he will do everything in his power to help you. So if you shoved your freezing cold hands into his shirt, he would immediately be taking off his cloak and wrapping it around you in an almost hasty manner, muttering at you while rubbing your arms up and down, "And this is why I told you to wear a cloak, come here, let me warm you."
His cloak has some residual warmth that bleeds into you and is clearly oversized because it is slipping off your body at every movement. One of Az's wings will wrap around you as he shoves you into his side so you absorb some of his heat. His shadows, that usually leave a cold whisper on your skin, are caccooning you and Az into a warm space.
Eris
"Oh my beloved, are you cold?"
He wouldn't even wait for your reply, he would already be sliding your hands out of his shirt so gentle, so soft and would slide his fingers through yours, bringing them up to his lips and pressing in warm kisses at each finger pad. And then he would cup your hands together and breath a puff of fire right at your palms that doesn't touch you, but instantly provides heat.
And then he would press warm kisses all over your cheeks and forehead and nose and lips and neck, and pull you into a warm embrace that allows for him to sway in a little dance, letting his body heat permeate around you.
A ring of fire that is maybe an inch tall would surround you as he sways you back and forth, leaving kisses on your temple.
Sometimes he will just carry you to bed and lay on top of you to warm you up with his face buried into your neck, laying kisses at the junction between your neck and shoulder.
Lucien
tehehe
I think Lucien would look down at you with a smirk on his face and wiggle his eyebrows, "looking f'me to warm you up sweets?"
He would let you keep your hands up his shirt as they move around and find warmth against the smooth skin of his chest.
His hands would come up and smoosh your cheeks together so he can pepper kisses onto your lips as he moves you backwards into the wall so you can lean up against it as he makes you weak in the knees
I think he would proceed to messily make out with you for a good few minutes, running his hands all over your body, squeezing at your soft skin
Eventually one of his hands would settle at your lower back as his warm tongue plays with yours. He would press you fully against him, letting his body heat soak into you. His other hand would be stroking your cheek or running through your hair as he nips at your lips.
Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you enjoyed the stuff I came up with for it <3333
I miss you all so much and I miss writing. I wish I could put out more, but life has gotten very busy. Thank you all for the continued patience.
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apollodarling-writes · 8 months
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can you please write Acotar yandere Azriel x reader headcanons and can you also make reader? their mate because I think being Azriel mate will just amplify his yandere tendencies, because we all know how Azriel would do anything for a mating bound
YANDERE AZRIEL HCs
nonnie ily your brain is so big.
tws: caging, confining, intimidation, uses his shadows to keep tabs on you and stalk (???) you, reader is kidnapped by enemies of the night court for information, azriel slaughters said enemies
Yan! Azriel who initally met you through Feyre. Rhysand had agreed to let Feyre bring a close friend of hers to dinner and you waltzed in, immediately feeling the bond snap in place.
Rhyand sensed something was going on, talons gently scraping against Azriel's mental barriers and found out that the two of you were mates.
Rhysand, being the cocky matchmaker he is, moved Cassian from beside his brother in arms, and politely asked you to take a seat next to Azriel.
Yan! Azriel whose shadows are quick to lick at your flesh, weaving between your fingers and fidgeting with your clothing, eager to become familiar with their Master's mate.
Yan! Azriel who is quick to retract them, apologizing to you in a quiet tone, making sure to avoid your gaze.
Yan! Azriel who, after you leave for the night, orders his shadows to keep a close watch on you. He can't have his mate getting hurt!
Yan! Azriel who sees you coming over more often to spend time with Feyre, catching your sneaky glances with a soft gaze.
Yan! Azriel whose heart pounds in his chest when you approach him, your body language hesitant yet eager to become more familiar with him.
Yan! Azriel who gazes at you longingly, his instincts telling him to keep you safe no matter the cost.
Yan! Azriel who always, always knows where you are and what you're doing- courtesy of his shadows feeding him this information.
Yan! Azriel who doesn't know how to tell you that the two of you are mates, so he ponders on it for awhile.
Yan! Azriel who, while planning how he should tell you one day, is mortified and unbelievably angry when his shadows inform him that you were in danger.
Yan! Azriel who immediately winnows to your location and finds that one of the many enemies of the Night Court had caught wind of your familiarity with the High Lord's Inner Circle and had kidnapped you for information.
Luckily, Yan! Azriel was able to slaughter all of the guards in time to rescue you before they hurt you too badly!
Yan! Azriel who can barely contain his fury when he sees that your lovely skin is bruised and bleeding, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tremble in fear.
Yan! Azriel who is quick to murmur sweet nothings and unshackle you, winnowing back to The House of Wind to patch you up.
Yan! Azriel who is gentle as he cleans and dresses your wounds, shakily pressing kisses to each.
Yan! Azriel who explains that he keeps tabs on all of the Inner Circle (except for Rhysand) when you ask. It's a safety precaution. He's lying.
Yan! Azriel who takes a deep breath and admits that the two of you are mates, watching as your eyes light up and your lips part with delighted shock.
Yan! Azriel who is shocked that you seem so excited and that you take being his mate so well. It just makes him love and appreciate you more!
Yan! Azriel who goes off on his own to build a cozy home for the two of you with his own two hands, creeping you out surprising you with it when you say you wanted a home of your own one day.
Yan! Azriel who, after the Mating Ceremony, slowly becomes more possessive and controlling in subtle ways. He just wants to keep you safe! Can't you see that?
Yan! Azriel who uses magick to trap you in your shared home when you keep trying to leave... Is he not enough for you? Is there something that's you need done? He can do anything and everything for you, so please just stay put!
Yan! Azriel who understands why you're ignoring him, but if you keep it up, he'll have to resort to drastic measures to get you to talk to him again.
Yan! Azriel who threatens persuades you to keep quiet about what's been going on at home. You wouldn't want your family to get hurt would you? Keep those lips of yours sealed, darling. His shadows are always keeping watch.
Yan! Azriel who is elated when you finally come around, giving into his efforts to keep you safe and healthy.
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thehighlordishere · 6 days
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Can I request How would yandere bat boys poly romantic mates from ACOTAR deal with a bratty male reader that has an attitude for example the bat boys saying “if you walk out that door you will regret it” and reader walked back and then opened the window and jumped out that would be hilarious 😂.
Yandere!Poly!bat boys x male reader
Drabble
Warnings: implied kidnapping, yandere themes,
“If you walk out that damn door you will regret it“ Rhysand snarled at you.
You looked at the three of them, Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel.
Before opening the window and leaping jumping out.
“Son of a BIT-“ Az lunged for window.
Cassian quickly flew around the window you were falling from and caught you as you were laughing. “You little brat-“
At least it was him who caught you. You didn’t last long till Rhys got ahold of your mind and awoke to a nice scolding.
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aphroditelovesu · 8 months
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Can you write a love letter 💌 from Azriel who escaped him and can you make the reader’s gender a male ❤️❤️❤️
My beloved and stupid man,
The darkness that surrounds me now is a perfect reflection of the storm that has raged inside me since the moment I saw you had gone. Every shadow that dances on the walls seems to whisper your name as if the wind itself were an echo of my pain.
I was once a shadow among shadows, but with you, I became a shadow lit by the fire of love. Each laugh, each touch, each shared sigh felt like rays of light piercing the darkness of my being. And now that you're gone, those rays have turned into arrows of bitterness that pierce my heart.
The passion that burned inside me is now a wildfire, burning everything in its path. My loyalty and dedication to you have been transformed into a dark obsession that knows no bounds. The shadows that once sheltered me now twist and writhe in agony, reflecting the rage that consumes my soul.
My wings, once raised to protect you, now curve in menace, ready to swoop down on any obstacle that dares come between us. I feel like a cornered wolf, ready to attack, to fight to the end for what rightfully belongs to me.
You can try to escape, to delve into the darkest and darkest depths, but remember: wherever you go, I will be the shadow that follows you, the echo that resonates in your deepest thoughts. My love for you has become an inseparable part of who I am, a part I cannot and will not let go of. You are mine.
When our eyes first met, I knew you would be my downfall and my redemption. Now, I am your shadow, the darkness that surrounds you, the nightmare that haunts you. May the stars bear witness to my promise: I will find you, no matter where you hide, and the shadows that surround us will know the true extent of my madness for you.
Yours sincerely,
Azriel.
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talesof-old · 2 months
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turned 21 today 🥳🥳🥳
i’m working on y’all’s requests tonight and hopefully they’ll all be published by monday 🙏
in order of release:
- poly!batboys with angst, smut, and a happy ending
- charlie weasley x male!reader smut
- james potter x bsf!reader angst with happy ending
- james potter x reader angst, no happy ending
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
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Damned if you do, damned if you don’t
Pairing: Azriel x reader 
Plot: After accidentally listening to your mate confess to his brothers that he thinks your clingy, you decided to give him space and discover who you are outside of your relationship. What happens when Azriel notices the distance between the two of you. Will he fix what he broke or will he make it worse.
Warning: Angst angst angst. Accusations of cheating. Azriel’s an ass by the end of this.
A/n don’t worry, I’m already planning on making a part two to this. I always try to have happy endings to all of my stories.
Part two Part Three Bonus Scene
ACOTAR Masterlist
Prompt list
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She’s just- She's just very clingy. You were not supposed to hear the current conversation Azriel was having with his brothers. But that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to be hurt by what your mate was saying: “I just wish she would get a hobby or make friends outside of our inner circle. I feel like I can't go anywhere without her asking where I’m going or if she could tag along,” Azriel added and earned a disapproving look from Cassian.
“You don’t mean that,” Cassian argued back: “I would give anything for Nesta to want to spend that amount of time with me.”
It was no secret how complicated Cassian’s relationship with his mate. He’d vented to Azriel and Rhysand about his frustration with the current status of his and Nesta’s relationship. He told Azriel countless times how much he wished he had what you and Azriel had.
Not being able to stomach what your mate was saying about you, you disappeared into your bedroom and silently cried yourself to sleep.
The following morning, instead of waking up Azriel with breakfast in bed like you usually do, you decided to wander the streets of Velaris. In all the time you have lived in this city, you've never really explored it, only going to Rita’s, Rhysand's townhouse, and the river house.
You weren’t sure what you were looking for in particular, so you just decided to go with the flow and see where you ended up. You started with grabbing breakfast at a tiny restaurant you’ve probably passed a dozen times but didn’t notice until now.
Following that, you decided to shop to pass the time. You were ready to head home when you stumbled upon a dance studio. It was always your dream to be a dancer growing up, but seeing as your family was too poor for you to buy you lessons, your dream never got to be fulfilled. That was until today.
You contemplated if you wanted to enter the studio when a male stepped out of the building and asked: “Are you planning on signing up for classes?”
“No, no,” you shook your head as you wrapped your arms around your body: “I’ve never danced a day in my life, so I’ll probably make a fool of myself.”
The male let out a small laugh at your response: “Don’t worry, the morning classes are for beginners. Come, you can sit in during this class, and you could decide if you want to join after.”
You were about to decline his offer when the events from the night before flooded your mind again. She’s too clingy. She needs to get a hobby and make new friends. “You know what? Why not. I have nothing planned for the day,” you responded and followed the male into the dance studio.
It was lunchtime by the time the dance class was over, and you decided to sign up to start taking classes the following day. Everyone was so friendly to you, and you could tell the instructor was passionate about teaching others how to dance. That inspired you to sign up to take classes for a month and see where you go from there.
Throughout the class, though, you felt Azriel tug on the bond. Which was strange because he’d never done that before. You would reciprocate just to let him know you were ok.
As soon as you left the studio, you decided to stop by Rhysand’s townhouse to see Feyre and Nyx. To your surprise, everyone was there, including Azriel, who was currently playing with Nyx. This was strange because Azriel and Cassian usually spent most of their day training the Valkyrie. 
“Y/n !” Feyre squealed with excitement as she ran to greet you.
Azriel’s immediately looked over at you. He wanted to go towards where you were so he could ask where you went in the morning, but Nyx forbade him from leaving where he was. So, instead, he had to hear you tell everyone what you were up to.
“That’s amazing !” Feyre smiled. She knew about your dream of being a dancer and has been trying to convince you to take classes with the money Rhysand has been paying you.
After spending an hour catching up with everyone, you told them you had to pick up a few things for your first day. “I promise I’ll come straight here after my first class to tell you how it went,” you promised while grabbing your things.
Azriel was surprised when you started walking towards the front door without asking him if he wanted to go with you. “Um, would you like for me to accompany you?”
“No, thank you,” you replied without looking at him: “But thank you for offering.”
While you were hurt by what Azriel confessed to his brothers, you weren't going to be rude towards him for his own feelings. 
Everyone glanced at Azriel, puzzled because you always wanted Azriel’s company when you went out, especially if it involved shopping. “Is everything ok between you and y/n? She always wants you to go shopping with her, mainly so you can carry her bags, but still,” Mor asked.
“I don’t know,” Azriel replied honestly: “Last time I checked, we were doing ok.”
Cassian wanted to make a snide comment about the conversation they had the night before, but he kept his mouth shut.
That became your routine for the next six months. You woke up, went to dance classes, and either hung out with the new friends you made at dance class or spent time at the river house. As much as Azriel’s words hurt you, you could not help but thank him. If it wasn't for him, you would not be doing what you loved and creating so many new friendships.
Throughout that time, though, Azriel noticed you were pulling away from him. He missed waking up to you making him breakfast in bed. He missed when you would pester him about details of his day, but most of all, he missed your constant physical contact.
While you haven’t completely stopped touching him, he noticed you stopped sitting so close to him that you were basically on top of him. He also noticed you’ve stopped inviting him to go anywhere with you and stopped asking if you could tag along whenever he would go into town.
He was growing worried you were falling out of love with him or worse, you were cheating on him.
He knew your dance instructor was a male and grew paranoid that you were cheating on him with your instructor. “She’s not cheating on you Az. She loves you too much to do that to you,” Rhysand reassured Azriel.
“I would have believed you if you would have said that six months ago,” Azriel hid his face in his hands: “But she’s a completely different person now. She barely touches me anymore. The last time we had sex was over a month ago. I’m going crazy, and she doesn’t even care.”
Cassian couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Azriel’s comment: “Sex isn’t everything you know. Have you tried talking to her about this?”
“It is if we used to do it at least once a day, and to answer your question, no, I haven’t because she’s never home. She’s been at that dumb dance studio rehearsing for a recital they’re having tomorrow.” 
“Instead of complaining about her dancing, why don’t you go to the recital to support her. Just because you think it’s dumb doesn’t mean it’s not important, especially to her,” Rhysand advised.
As much as Azriel didn’t want to, he did what Rhysand suggested and went to your dance recital the next day. He showed up with a big bouquet of roses that earned some stares from strangers in the audience. He didn’t care. He was there for you and only you.
And he was so happy he ended up going. He watched in awe as you danced so elegantly across the stage. He mentally cursed himself for calling what you were doing dumb because watching you dancing made him fall in love with you all over again. By the time the recital was finished, Azriel had a speech about how proud he was of you and how amazing you looked dancing on stage. 
Unfortunately, right as he was about to approach you after the recital ended, your instructor pulled you into a hug and spun you around.
Azriel was fuming and threw the roses he bought for you on the floor before stocking over to where you were: “Azriel. You-”
You didn’t have a chance to finish before Azriel ripped your instructor off of you and started punching him.
“Azriel ! ! !” You yelled at your mate as he punched your instructor repeatedly.
It took six male faes to finally remove Azriel from your instructor. “I’m sorry y/n. You are a phenomenal student, but you can not attend my classes anymore. You and your mate are banned,” your instructor said before storming away.
You felt your heart break at the news you were given and found yourself dropping to the floor. To Azriel’s credit, he immediately regretted his actions and tried to comfort you: “Y/n, I’m so sorry.” 
“Don’t,” you glared at your mate and started getting up: “How could you do this to me. You knew how important dancing was to me, and now you got me banned from the place I started to call home.”
“I’m your home ! ! !” Azriel yelled defensively: “I barely see you anymore because you spend all your time at that dumb dance studio. I just want my mate back!”
You let out a dry laugh at Azriel’s comment: “I was just giving you exactly what you wanted. For me to not be so damn clingy all the time. I found a hobby and made friends, but now you ruined it.”
Azriel stiffened at your words. He remembered the night he said those horrible words and the harsh words both Cassian and Rhysand had said to him afterward. They made him realize what he had with you was unique, and he should cherish every moment he had with you because tomorrow was never guaranteed, especially for them. He just didn’t know you overheard him say those things: “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”
“Save it. I can’t even look at you right now,” you inhaled sharply: “I’m going to stay with a friend for a few nights. Don’t worry, it’s not my instructor. Our friendship is clearly done after the stunt you just pulled.” You started walking away but turned around to add: “He’s gay, by the way. He has a partner and a beautiful son they adopted three years ago.”
And just like that, the weight of Azriel’s actions hit him as he watched you walk away. 
@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321
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redbleedingrose · 1 year
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Eris is a girl dad pt 2
Ugh OMG I just loved writing about GirlDad!Eris so here we go:
Eris tells you that you are having a girl babe, and he won’t back down. What he and you both don’t guess, is that you are having twin girls. 
Literally, you are exhausted and pushing as hard as you can with Eris by your side, who is holding your hand the entire way, kissing your forehead and whispering how proud he is, to keep going, “you’re almost there beloved, just a couple minutes before we meet our perfect babe,”
And you are literally screaming at him that you are gonna kill him once this is over and gonna chop his balls off,
 And he is just like, “okay beloved, you can do that, just keep going.”
Anyways, you push and finally here a babes cry fill the room, and a sigh of relief passes your lips as you begin to sob from happiness. The babe is immediately placed on your chest with the midwife saying, “a beautiful little girl!”
Eris is sobbing, kissing your forehead and temple, “thank you for the best gift you could have ever given me beloved,” staring at his daughter, who has calmed from the warmth and heartbeat of her mother, with such adoration and happiness and unconditional love. 
Bells of the Autumn Court Temple are sounding out a melodious tune, letting the citizens of the court now, your babe has made her way into the world. 
The tune is unique, they only sound out at the wedding of the high lord and whenever the high lord produces children
The deeper ones indicating a birth of a male
The the lighter ones indicate a birth of a female 
Everyone in Autumn Court immediately begins celebrations, it has been centuries since a girl babe has been born into the high lords family 
TBH you and Eris are very popular among your court. Your citizens adore you for helping taking Beron out of power, and creating a safe and peaceful Autumn. 
The court is literally thriving 
So they were extremely excited to find out you were with child 
Anyway, the male is utterly whipped by his babe, and will do whatever it takes to protect her and you and make sure that you are spoiled to your hearts content. 
But then... contractions start again and you are fucking confused. 
The midwife is moving the babe off your chest and into Eris’ arms as she tells you
“another babe is crowning high lady”
You and Eris don’t even have time to be confused because you have to start pushing, and another babe comes out kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs. 
Another girl babe. 
Both babes are placed on your chest again, as you tears of joy are streaming endlessly down your face. 
The bells sound out again
confusing the shit out of everyone, nonetheless, everyone is excited 
poor Lucien has no idea what is happening and is staring down the hallway with curious eyes, “UHHHH did they have another????”
Eris spends the next couple of hours unable to pull away from you and his precious babes, Marwa and Twila. 
He holds you close as the babes have fallen asleep on your chest, he brushes your hair and makes sure you are well fed with your favorite foods, before handing you a small box that is wrapped with a golden ribbon. 
“A present for you, my beloved. There is nothing in the world, nothing in the universe, that I could give you that could even match what you have done for me. I will spend the rest of my life showing you how thankful I am. It starts with this,”
A beautiful pair of gold earrings that hold emeralds, with a matching gold bracelet that has two chains twined together with tiny emeralds embedded throughout. 
He silently takes the jewelry out of the box, hushing your whispered gratitude, kisses your lips softly, your cheeks, your forehead and nose, and then your ear lobes before pressing in the earrings. After, he lifts one of your arms so gently, kissing all the way down to your wrist before latching the bracelet on.
UGH I CANT HE IS SO CHEESY WITH YOU 
A soft knock sounds at the door, Lucien is visiting Autumn Court; with Beron dead, Eris invited his favorite younger brother back to witness such a joyous occasion. 
Eris gently picks up his girls who are wrapped in their wool blankets, as Lucien peaks through, His eyes widen as he realizes, there is not one babe, but two. 
Tears, again, begin to stream down Eris’ cheeks as he murmurs, voice breaking ever so slightly, “Two girls, Luc, twin girl babes.” 
AHHHHHHH I CANT SHOULD I DO A WHOLE MINI SERIES OF THESE BABES GROWING UP ?!?!?!?!?! 
(matching outfits, their personalities, visiting night court, interacting with Nyx, and auntie/uncles of night court, interacting with uncle luc?!?!?!?)
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apollodarling-writes · 4 months
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Can you write a dialogue between Yandere High lord Rhysand from ACOTAR and male reader about after reader escaped and ran away from his wedding/mating ceremony and Rhysand catches reader agian maybe you could add smut of Rhys forces reader to accept the mating bound and then Rhysand goes through a feranzy and Reader going through heat. If it to much you don’t have too and I couldn’t see if your requests are open or not 😊❤️❤️❤️❤️
yan! high lord rhysand with a male! reader who ran away from their mating ceremony
cws : yandere themes, dubcon elements if you squint, forced mating bond, reader in heat (i hope i did this well enough), rhysand in a frenzy, kidnapping, mind-break implied, mean! rhysand, dom! rhys + sub! reader, toxic! rhys, reader whimpers, throatfucking, magic used to aid in a penile and anal stimulation, darkness used for added stimulation, idk the extent of rhysand's powers but i imagine he can do wtv the hell he wants, uhhh dacryphilia, overstim, possessive! rhys, kinda degradation??, the term pretty is used but its in a degrading way, he calls you little mate, spanking, handjob, ball-fondling??????, literal marking, mate marking, a little bit of blood bc of biting,
mdni !!
author note : this is my first time writing for an amab reader. if its not any good, im so so sorry. i did try really hard. idk much about amab anatomy or what it feels like so pls forgive me. i hope this was good and i hope it was what you were looking for!!
it was safe to say that rhysand was livid. after all that he’s done for you, he only asked that you accepted the mate bond, but you couldn’t even do that. a snarl tears through his lips as he orders his inner circle to immediately begin searching for you. feyre was long gone— he’d made sure to ship her back off to tamlin after he’d made a deal to use the cauldron to create a mating bond with you.
rhysand was sure that you knew. it was no wonder that you’d try to run from him, but he thought you knew better. this was supposed to be a special night for the two of you. you were supposed to go through with your part of the mating ceremony, the two of you would fuck on every surface of the home he had built for this purpose specifically, then he would announce you as his husband— his mate. but of course, you just had to be a brat.
rhysand tugged on the bond, a spike of fear being sent through from your end. he was silently glad that he hadn’t taught you everything he did feyre— he could enter your mind whenever he pleased without worrying about you shutting him out.
“i’ll find you, little mate. you can’t run from me forever.”
he makes sure to send a fraction of his rage through the bond before shutting it off completely. that’ll send you into a state of panic, make your movements sloppy, blah blah blah. it’ll be a piece of cake.
it doesn’t take long before azriel finds you. shit, azriel has been keeping his mate captive, so it’s no wonder he’d be so willing. rhysand is quick to winnow to your location — only a few miles from the border of the night court. you must've had help...
“hello, little mate.” rhysand purrs, fingers darting out to grip your collar. he watches with a sick pleasure as your eyes widen with fear, your hands desperately trying to claw his off of you; it was futile. rhysand winnows the two of you back to your home feeling his cock grow hard the more you struggle against his grip.
“if you want to be a brat, then i’ll fuck it out of you.” rhysand growls. “but first, you’ll make me something to eat.”
rhysand ushers you to the kitchen, his grip shifting to the back of your neck as he harshly pushes you forward. a cold chill runs down your spine as you make him something simple— you didn’t want to further incur his wrath. after plating it, rhysand quickly eats it, his gaze shifting to you.
even an idiot would realize that they’d fucked up royally. with the way rhysand’s gaze darkens, hungry and lustful in nature, your senses picking up on the pheromones he was subconsciously releasing. the scent of him was heavy-- citrus and sea numbing your mind as your body grows hot. your cock sits heavy in your pants, straining against the fabric as rhysand pounces on you, his wings encasing the two of you as he presses himself against you.
rhysand rocks his cock against yours once, twice, three times, before slipping his hand into your pants. his digits wrap around your length, smearing pearls of precum along your shaft as he strokes you. a whimper parts your lips and rhysand takes the opportunity to slot his lips against yours. his tongue is quick to claim the new territory, his free hand gripping your hip as he pulls away from you. with a wave of his hand, you stand bare before him, body glistening with a sheen of sweat.
"on your knees, little mate." an unseen force followed by a metallic twang forces you to kneel before him, jaw slackening as far as your bone structure would allow. rhysand's dark eyes are blown wide as his clothing dissipates, his hand reaching down to cup the base of his manhood. it was unbelievably large-- based on his wingspan, you knew it would be above average, but this? it was monstrous. you briefly wonder if it would tear you in half.
rhysand slides the tip of his cock along your tongue, the magic swirling around you flattening the muscle in your stead, and one hand cups the back of your head as he bottoms out. tears spring from your eyes, the rough pads of the high lord's fingers gingerly brushing them away as he coos at you. "you can take it."
a gurgled protest on your end elicits a throaty groan from the man above you, his cock throbbing as he slowly thrusts in and out of your throat, a rippling pleasure taking over his senses. rhysand's pace gradually increases, drool dripping down your chin as he wields the darkness around you to prep your ass and stroke your length. the pain and pleasure of both send you into a frenzy-- the pathetic whimpers you release only stimulate your mate further.
"fuck... doin' so good for me, baby."
it doesn't take much for you to cum; the cool touch of his magic combined with the stimulation on your g-spot became too much, your body quickly becoming overstimulated.
"baby, im gonna cum." rhysand announces, his eyes screwing shut as his thrusting becomes more aggressive and powerful. "fuck, fuck-- keep crying for me. y'look so pretty."
rhysand's hips still, thick ropes of cum spilling down your throat as he roars in pleasure. his lips curl into a sneer as he directs his attention to you, and with another wave of his hand, you're bent over the counter. "d'ya think you'd ever escape me? i'm the most powerful high lord there has ever been, and will ever be. you will never, ever fucking escape me."
rhysand brings a heavy hand down on your ass over and over, stinging your flesh and forcing a sob from your throat. "i-i'm sorr-"
"i know you are. you're always sorry." he snarls, his thick cock slotting between your walls and slowly filling you to the brim. the darkness curls around your manhood once more, stroking it agonizingly slow as he speaks. "have you ever thought about how your actions make me feel? hm?"
your mate chuckles mirthlessly as you shake your head. "i know you don't-- because i've been blessed with a pitifully selfish mate."
rhysand suddenly begins thrusting into you at a harsh pace, the sensation bringing tears to your eyes as your fumble to grip onto something. you whine as your mate orders the darkness surrounding him to bind your hands behind your back, wrapping an arm around your midsection to hold you upright. "feel good, pretty boy?"
you babble in response, too overstimulated and fucked dumb to form a proper sentence, causing rhys to smirk victoriously. "do you think any other man in this world could fuck you as wonderfully as i do?"
all you can do is sob in response, coming undone beneath your furious lover. your seed spills to the flooring, your cockhead flushed an angry red as the tendrils continue their onslaught.
"rhys!" you cry. "'ts too much!"
"fucking take it. i know you can," he pants. "tonight is about me; i'll be gentle the rest of this month, but you've really pissed me off, little mate."
you feel your mind begin to slip at his words, melting into a pretty mush as he fills you up-- his hips never once stopping despite the growls he releases and the way his fingers dig into your flesh.
"that's it, pretty boy. give into the pleasure." rhys purrs, pressing your back to his chest and stroking your cock himself. his magic teasingly cups your balls, gently kneading the soft flesh and bringing you closer and closer to your next release. "cum f'me, baby. i know you can do it."
your mate's lips trail along your shoulder, nipping an sucking as if he were searching for a spot in particular. his teeth sink into an area on your throat that has you screaming in pleasure, your body tensing and twitching in his grasp as you release into his hand. "there we go, baby. wasn't so hard, was it?"
rhysand's tongue darts out to soothe the area, lapping at the blood that dribbles from the wound and staining his teeth crimson. he reaches his hand up, licking your cum off of his fingers, then presses tender kisses to your shoulder.
"now you can't leave me."
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thehighladywrites · 2 months
Text
ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY
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☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!
☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s
☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀
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RHYSAND
“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”
“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”
Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead
He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.
“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.
“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight
Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.
Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.
“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”
He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy
In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban
The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.
“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer
Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…
YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹
ERIS
“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”
He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.
“Is that so?”
You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.
“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”
You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.
Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated
And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.
But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house
You are a mess. An absolute mess
You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.
The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time
When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.
When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired
When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.
After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in
“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.
“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”
He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses
“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”
You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed
“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head
AZRIEL
“Okay.”
That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.
But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered
In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside
Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most
So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist
He sluts around the house
Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out
Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.
Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.
He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.
Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.
You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.
CASSIAN
Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.
Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.
“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”
Tha man is flabbergasted
He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that
Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it
He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban
Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch
A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.
An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.
Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.
No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together
After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.
You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day
Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really
When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom
Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days
Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr
LUCIEN
Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate
“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.
You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.
Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.
“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.
He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.
“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”
You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.
“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”
You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile
“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.
He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good
Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work
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🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial
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prythianpages · 2 months
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When I Kissed the Teacher | Azriel
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Summary: After crushing on Azriel for almost a year, Nesta dares you to kiss him during Valkyrie training.
Warning: reader thirsting for Az and fluff for my batboy ♥
A/N: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea! Though I did a poll and Az won, I couldn't help myself and also write a version for Cas (you can read it here) as a huge thank you for following and reading my stuff. I just reached 1K followers ♥
This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:
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The first moment you saw Azriel, you were instantly drawn to him. 
His sun kissed skin radiated warmth. The hazel depths of his eyes hinted at wisdom earned through ages. His dark hair, a cascade of silken strands, framed a face sculpted to perfection. The Illyrian leathers he wore were a gift from the gods themselves as they only highlighted the well-defined muscles that lay beneath…
And his wings? Gods, those wings of his. They were massive yet delicate and iridescent. The way they always unfurled with such grace had your own wings fluttering in response.
But it wasn’t just the arresting beauty that surpassed all males you’ve encountered that drew you in. It was the impeccable way he carried himself. The mastery he exuded in combat, the patience he had while training you because if you’re going to be honest, you’re sure you pushed him past his limits. Yet, no matter how tough he was on you during training, Azriel was always kind to you outside of training grounds.
It didn’t take you long to fall for him and it didn’t matter how much you unleashed your inner turmoil onto the punching bag. Nothing could shake the strange fluttering sensation in your stomach every time your mind drifted to him. It’s like there were a million butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
Sweat glistens on your forehead and your eyebrows furrow in concentration, too lost in your thoughts to pay mind to the silent spectator that had arrived minutes ago…until he finally steps out from the shadows and speaks.
“I’d hate to be the one on your mind right now.”
A misplaced punch lands awkwardly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through your hand. “Azriel,” you breathe, your cheeks flushing as you cradle your hand close to your chest. If only he knew…
“Fuck,” Azriel curses, hazel eyes flashing with concern. He swiftly closes the distance between and gently takes your injured hand into his, inspecting it with a small frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You could never scare me.”
Azriel raises an eyebrow, eyes lifting to meet yours. “Is that so?” He replies, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I think I may be going too soft on you then”
“Soft?” You exhale in an incredulous manner, remembering the way your last training session with Azriel had ended. 
He had taunted you and your Illyrian blood had heated at the challenge in his words, allowing him to coax you into combating him. Of course, you were no match for him. You had begun training only a year ago, thanks to Emerie’s invitation. Azriel had centuries on you. Your muscles were still aching from the aftermath.
Azriel chuckles. “Come,” he says, guiding you back into the house. His hand holds onto your wrist lightly, being careful so as not to hurt your injured hand further. “Let’s get you patched up.”
**
As Azriel carefully attends to your hand, you can’t help the way your gaze lingers on him. His features are tense with concentration and concern, unbothered by the dark fringe that falls slightly over his eyes. Your uninjured hand is itching to run through those dark strands and brush his hair back for him.
You swear your heart skips a beat when Azriel lifts his gaze, catching your brazen staring. A flush spreads across your cheeks, and you quickly avert your gaze, missing the subtle, self-satisfied smile that graces Azriel's lips.
The sudden intrusion of Nesta breaks the spell, her figure leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, an amused twinkle in her gaze. While you were oblivious to Azriel's reaction, Nesta, caught the soft smile he allowed himself.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Both of you turn your heads to find Nesta. There’s a smirk on her face as her eyes flicker between you and Azriel.
“Uh, no. Not at all,” you stammer, attempting to mask your embarrassment. “Just a little injury, that’s all.”
“Nothing to worry yourself over, Nesta,” Azriel chimes in, lowering his gaze to secure the bandage wrapped around your hand. “All done.”
“Thanks, Azriel.”
Azriel rises to his feet, and the shadows that dance around his shoulders seem to buzz with excitement over the soft way you had said his name. He pats your thigh, suppressing his smile as he stands.
Nesta's smirk transforms into a sly grin, her keen eyes not missing the way Azriel keeps his gaze averted from you to save you from further embarrassment. It doesn’t matter, anyway. His shadows are happy to inform him of the mortified look you send Nesta’s way followed by the way you silently mouth “stop” at her. 
"Well, that’s great news,” Nesta replies, grasping your uninjured hand and pulling you to your feet. “Thank you for taking care of her, Az. Now, if you don’t mind, y/n here is late to girl’s night.”
As Nesta ushers you out, Azriel watches with a mixture of amusement and warmth in his hazel eyes. Unbeknownst to you, the unexpected emotions that had taken residence in your heart were mirrored in Azriel’s.
**
Under the soft glow of fairy lights, you sit cross-legged on the plush rug, facing Nesta while Emerie and Gwyn sit on either side of you. An array of snacks, provided by the sentient house, sits in the middle of the circle you and your friends formed. And of course, it wouldn’t be a girl’s night without the age-old game of truth or dare.
“Your turn,” Emerie grins at you, exchanging a knowing look with the other two females. “Truth or dare?”
Given the mischievous glint in Nesta’s eyes, it was an obvious choice for you. Truth would be the safer option. Emerie’s grin falters, disappointed by your choice.
However, Gwyn sees an opportunity. She wraps her blanket tighter around herself, shifting in her spot eagerly. She leans forward to grab a chocolate covered strawberry before nonchalantly asking: “Do you like Azriel?”
Nesta scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh, come on. Like we even have to ask.”
“True,” Gwyn giggles. “But I want to hear her say it.”
Heat rises to your cheeks for the third time tonight, creating a persistent warmth that makes you wonder if you might give yourself a fever. Your friends collectively hold their breaths in anticipation. Nesta’s gaze remains fixed on you, unwavering.
“Yes.”
The room erupts into squeals and teasing remarks, and your eyes widen, urging them to hush, terrified that Azriel, who is upstairs, might hear. It’s a futile attempt as their cheers only grow louder, making you bury your face in her hands.
“He likes you too.”
Your peak out from beneath your fingers. “What makes you say that?”
Nesta laughs in response but Emerie and Gywn are quick to tease you even further.  Gywn assumes the role of Azriel while Emerie assumes the role of you as they exchange glances and lingering touches. The two females jump to their feet and wooden swords appear in front of them. You look up with a glare directed at the sentient house.
With a swift flick of her wrist, Gwyn uses her wooden sword to knock Emerie’s out of her hand. “Again,” Gwyn nearly growls as she tries to mimic Azriel’s deep voice.
“I can’t,” Emerie replies, feigning shyness.
“I don’t sound like that!” You cry out in disbelief, turning to Nesta. “I don’t sound like that, right?”
Nesta shrugs her shoulders, eyes sparkling with mirth at the scene before her. Emerie and Gwyn ignore your protests, continuing to pretend to be you and Azriel.
“Oh, Azriel, my love,” Emerie swoons, the back of her hand flying to her forehead while her other hand hangs in the air. “I think I sprained my wrist.”
Gwyn gasps dramatically, diving in to catch Emerie before she could fall back against the fortress of pillows behind her. “No, not my sweet y/n, who I’m absolutely smitten with” Gwyn coos, bringing Emerie’s “injured” hand to her lips and kissing it.
Then, Gwyn and Emerie absolutely lose it, the two females falling onto the fortress of pillows as laughter consumes them, unfazed by the glare you’re now directing to them. Nesta stifles her own laughter, turning her attention back to you.
“He definitely likes you,” she repeats, her words awakening the butterflies in your stomach. You wonder if she can hear them fluttering too. “But he won’t make the first move. You’re going to have to do it yourself.”
“Absolutely not!”
 Nesta grins at you. “We’ll see about that.”
“Whatever,” you huff out. “It’s your turn now. Truth or dare?”
The night wears on, filled with more laughter, more shared secrets, and the occasional embarrassing dare. You got your friends back by daring them to have multiple spoonfuls of ice cream and tomato sauce. The house keeps you well supplied with snacks and your glasses of wine never go empty.
When it’s your turn again, you hesitate for a moment. You had thought “truth” had been the safer option but now, you know there is no safe option.
This time, you decide to be brave.
“Dare.”
"Fucking finally," Emerie grins, looking at Nesta while Gwyn smiles at you. Their plan is unfolding seamlessly...
“We dare you to kiss Azriel tomorrow after training.”
Your eyes widen in panic. “What? No way!”
Nesta, seemingly unfazed, inspects her nails with feigned boredom. "Coward," she mutters under her breath.
Her words, though hushed, ignite something deep within you. Your Illyrian blood stirs, the challenge resonating in your veins. Your eyes narrow, fixing on Nesta. "What did you say?"
Nesta meets your gaze as she repeats herself. Louder, this time. “Coward.”
The room falls into a hushed silence as your friends await your response. You bite your lip, contemplating the audacious dare. It was not in your nature to back down from a challenge.
After what felt like an eternity, you let out a deep exhale.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
**
You didn’t sleep at all last night but as Azriel circles around you, his eyes holding a glint of challenge, you are wide awake. Emerie, Gwyn and Nesta watch from the benches facing the sparring grounds while Cassian watches from a closer distance, keenly assessing your every move. Too caught up in your feelings over Azriel, you had failed to realize that this morning’s training session was an evaluation of the skills you had been working on over the past couple of months.
To say you're nervous was an understatement because not only did you have to prove yourself as the aspiring Valkyrie you’d like to become, you also had to prove to Nesta that you were not a coward. Taking a deep breath, your grip tightens on your sword.
Azriel, with his wings casting shadows on the ground, moves with grace. Each movement is precise and deliberate as your swords meet in a flurry of strikes, the sound of steel ringing in the air. Though you struggle, you do your best to keep up and hold your ground, determination burning bright.
Sweat begins to cling to your skin and your envious of the way Azriel hasn’t even broken a sweat himself. With every strike of his and every parry of yours, he continues to push you, his strikes growing harsher and stronger. You literally blink and in that swift second, Azriel knocks your sword out of your grip. A hiss escapes you and you swear your hear Gwyn and Emerie snicker from the sidelines as they find this situation all too familiar.
With a sweep of his leg, you lose your balance and find yourself falling onto one of the training mats. Azriel’s lips twitch upwards as he points his sword toward you. “Do you yield?”
You are weaponless and at his mercy but your stubbornness continues to burn bright. “No.”
In a sudden burst of energy, you land a kick on him, knocking his sword out of his grip just as he did to yours. The bold move leaves him momentarily stunned, his shadows coiling back in surprise. You take full advantage of his distraction, hooking your other leg behind his knees and bringing him down to the mat with you.
Azriel can only blink up at you as you straddle him, eyes widening when he feels a dagger–his dagger–pressed against his throat. How did you–
He’s unable to finish his thought as you shift above him and swallows thickly at the sensation of your body on top of his. The way your breathing is shallow and uneven and the way he can feel the warmth radiating off your body–
“You will.”
Your words have his attention drifting back to you. A radiant smile breaks across your face and his own lips curl upwards, hazel eyes softening as they stare into yours. “I yield,” he murmurs, ever so quietly, you wonder if you imagined it.
Your gaze drifts down to his lips and then back to his eyes. He does the same. And then the next moment, you’re kissing him. Softly and hesitantly, at first, but when Azriel responds, your heart fills with warmth. Your lips move against his with eager urgency.
Truthteller falls from your grasp and you bring your hand to grasp at the back of his neck instead, pulling him even closer. His hands find their place at your waist to keep you in place but then screams and squeals are piercing through the air. You’re immediately pulling away and jumping to your feet, absolutely flustered because in the heat of the moment, you had forgotten all about the audience you had.
You glance down at Azriel, desperately seeking a sign, but his expression is a mix of surprise and confusion. He looks nearly petrified. Your heart races and you begin to wonder if perhaps, you are a coward because all you want to do is run.
Your hand flies to your mouth. Doubts claw at the edges of your courage. What if Nesta was wrong? What if Azriel didn't like you? And you've just made a fool of yourself in front of him–your teacher– and your friends. 
Turning around, your eyes meet with the delightfully entertained audience. Gwyn and Emerie, caught up in the drama, cling to each other with excitement and unrestrained giggles. Nesta stands with the same smirk she gave you the night before though there’s a flicker of surprise in her blue-grey eyes. She hadn't expected you to follow through with the dare.
Meanwhile, Cassian’s gaze is fixed on the body behind you and he throws his head back in laughter. Ignoring the whispers and amused glances from those around you, you hastily make your exit, blind to the way you left Azriel a blushing fool.
Cassian approaches his friend, who remains rooted to his spot on the floor. Azriel is still processing the whirlwind of emotions you've stirred within him. There’s a teasing grin on Cassian’s lips. “Are you okay there, Az? You look a little–”
Azriel snaps out of the trance you've cast upon him to glare up at his friend. “Fuck off.”
He then jumps to his feet, dusting himself off and ignoring the curious glances of the females nearby. Determination fills his eyes as his head turns toward the direction you ran off to. He fears you have misinterpreted his initial shock and he can’t let this moment slip away. 
He needs to feel your soft lips against his again and more importantly, he needs to tell you that he feels the same way.
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a/n: Hope you all enjoyed this one! Cas's version is already up!
tagging: @hellodarling1357, @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies
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b00kdiary · 3 months
Note
Could I request Azriel and Plus Size reader where they’re both new to the mate bond and she overheard Azriel and Rhys’ conversation about the “Cauldron being wrong.” She left before she was able to hear Azriel call himself a fool for even believing it for a second, knowing that he’s already kissing the ground his own mate walks on. She starts comparing herself to Elain and then starts lashing out, going to Rita’s every night and avoiding Azriel whenever she sees him.
Cauldron Blessed | Azriel
Azriel (ACOTAR) x Plus Size Reader
Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image issues, angst, and eventual smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
'The Cauldron was wrong, so wrong.'
Those words played and replayed in my mind again and again, all day, every day, for the last week.
Wrong.
He said that the Cauldron was wrong- about us, about me.
Me, his mate- wrong.
It had been an accident, me overhearing them that night, a coincidence I had decided to come home early from my girl's night with Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie. Though with the Cauldron, there was no such thing as an accident, no such thing as coincidence.
I'd waded through the House of Wind, tipsy on wine and giggling softly to myself as I banged into the walls, thumping clumsily against the art pieces hanging and tripping over my own two feet. Giddy, I had been giddy, stumbling through the halls in search of him.
Azriel, my mate.
Only a few hours apart and I missed him, yearned for him, I felt the distance as if it spanned miles and the more I drank, the more I craved him. That's all I had been thinking of when I trekked through the empty halls, closer and closer to the lounge- just of my mate.
And that's when I heard it.
"The Cauldron works in mysterious ways," Rhysand's laugh drifted out to me in the corridor, and I came to an unsteady halt at the sound. "Feyre was my salvation; I didn't expect anything good to come to me Under the Mountain."
I smiled to myself, my hand coming to my mouth, shielding any sound that threatened to slip past- Az always teased that my lips loosened when I drank too much. Instead, I lean against the cold wall, warmth filling me as he gushed about my High Lady.
They were Cauldron blessed, that was clear to see.
"I think five hundred years of waiting for her was enough, brother," Cassian snorted, and I heard the faint sound of liquor pouring into a glass, wings rustling as one of the powerful males moved. "I know I never imagined my mate as a twenty-five-year-old human female, with a bite worse than mine."
I bit my lip as Cassian laughed, a loud, bellowing sound, so full of joy, so full of content, the mere memory of Nesta, human and utterly indomitable against him something that still brought him to his knees.
"The Cauldron must have a sense of humour," Rhysand teased, and I could practically envision Cassian rolling his eyes, a vulgar gesture thrown between the two males. "Connecting people in the most unexpected pairs, in the most unexpected ways."
"Like Elain and Lucien," Cass scoffs, loudly chugging back the remnant in his glass, "There's a pair I could never have foreseen, not in a thousand years."
"Proof that the Cauldron isn't always right," Azriel muses for the first time since I arrived, and my body almost croons at the sound- low and rough, moving over me as sure as if it were his hands. "She deserves better than any male friends with Tamlin, that's for sure."
She deserves better.
It was silly I knew, for the mere mention of her, the thought of her to make me feel nauseous, make my smile instantly fade, but I couldn't help it. It was hard for me to see a female as lovely as Elain Archeron and not feel inadequate by comparison.
Another who was blessed, so lovely that she had been gifted her seer abilities by the Cauldron itself as if her beauty and delicate demeanour weren't gift enough.
"Brave words, Az," Rhys whistled, and I had to force myself to blink away the picture-perfect image I had conjured of the middle Archerson sister, forcing myself to focus on their conversation instead. "Openly opposing the Cauldron."
"Brave or stupid?" Cassian counters tauntingly, and I knew he was drunk just from how loud his voice was, practically bouncing off the walls. "You think the Cauldron makes mistakes?"
"I know it does," Azriel challenges and it was that voice, that sure, quiet demeanour that I adored and desired so fiercely. I inch closer to the door, grinning at the idea of popping out and scaring them- but then he says it.
Says the thing that makes me stop dead in my tracks, makes my heart stop dead in my chest.
"Look at me and Y/N," Azriel sighs, and there's no joy, or adoration or yearning in his voice in memory of me, not like Rhys or Cass- no, there's dread. "The Cauldron made us mates... the Cauldron was wrong, so wrong."
There's a loud crack that echoes through the room, and it's that sound, and the feel of sharp debris against my palm, that pulls me from my memories. I blink through the tears, looking down at the crumbling marble sink, the corner pieces breaking off into my hands.
I sob through my teeth at the sight, small cuts leaking stark red blood down my fingers as I bring my hands to my chest. I can't see the looking- glass before me, not through the haze of tears, tears so strong it's as if I were made of them.
As if they had become a part of me.
It was all I had done the past week, cry and cry and cry- and avoid Azriel.
Every morning I skip training and breakfast, feigning fatigue or a full stomach, just so I wouldn't see him there. Each afternoon I'd get lost in the stacks and stacks of books in the library, so vast and endless that Azriel never stood a chance of finding me in the maze.
And at night I'd find solace wherever I could find a drink- Rita's, taverns, the Music Quarter, anywhere. Anywhere but at home, anywhere that I didn't have to see him.
I couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the sight of his face, even now the thought of his tilted smile, the beam of his soft hazel eyes, the touch of his scared hands and wild shadows, it made my whole body wrecked with sobs.
I couldn't bear any of it anymore- because none of it was real.
Every smile and touch, every kiss and moment where our bodies joined as one, where he confessed his love and devotion to me, it wasn't real. Azriel thought we were wrong, a mistake, a confusion, just wrong.
My hands shook as I wiped the tears from my cheeks, rougher than necessary, blood-smearing, but I was tired of tears, I was tired of crying, of feeling so unworthy. I was unworthy of him; he was beautiful inside and out and deserved so much better than me.
I sniffed as I lifted my gaze to the looking glass before me, and my heart hurt at the reflection, knowing that this was what Azriel saw, that this was why he knew the Cauldron was wrong. Every curve and roll and inch of flesh that I had, all of it, it was all wrong.
And I hated myself for it.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I take a step back and then another step, away from the reflection that taunted me, and mocked me, before forcing myself to look away. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat as I moved across the cold floor of my bathing suit, my body desperate for my bed.
And as I step over the door's threshold, and back into my old room in the House of Wind, I know it's not the same as when I had left it ten minutes ago.
He was here.
"Azriel," I gasped, halting at the sight of him- sat on the edge of my bed, his broad shoulders and powerful wings rising sharply at the sound of my voice, those hazel eyes meeting mine and filling with something honeyed and warm. "Wha- what are you doing here?"
He rises from the bed, elegant and still, his shadows dancing around him at the feel of my presence, the scent of my skin, and I shiver as he watches me, keen eyes gracing my stiff figure.
"Y/N," He sounds almost relieved as he says my name and my breath is caught in my lungs as I stay rooted to my spot, and he seems to sense my unease, as he doesn't move any closer to me. "You've been staying here for a week now; I missed you at home."
Home- the apartment we shared in town together, a cosy space that we had made our own.
Another thing I couldn't bear to face.
"I've been catching up with the girls," I say quietly, ripping my eyes from him and walking forward on numb legs. I tug at the hem of my nightshirt, his nightshirt I had stolen, feeling too bare before him and his eyes narrow at the movement. "It's just easier to sleep here when we have plans every day."
As spymaster it was Azriel's job to scrutinise, to observe and I felt every single part of that slot into place as he watched me now, watched as I moved toward the bed. I wasn't looking at him, I couldn't hold his stare- and he couldn't figure out why.
His shadows dance through the room, through the distance between us and I jolt, biting my lip when one brushes against my bare thigh- before scurrying back to Azriel in surprise. He inhales a sharp breath when his shadow whispers to him, telling him that something is wrong, I was wrong.
"I know you've been spending time with the girls," Azriel continues slowly, his voice tentative and soft as I move to the other side of the bed, furthest from where he stood. "I just feel like I haven't seen you at all... I miss you, sweetheart."
Sweetheart.
A sob threatened to rip from me at the name, so soft, so endearing on his lips and it took everything in me to not fall apart at that moment, to not crumble under the weight of it all. I shake my head, my back turned to him now and he watches as I tug back the duvet, my actions angry now.
"It's only been a week Azriel," I breathe through my clenched teeth, my tone so at odds with his and my body locking tighter at the sound of his impending footsteps. "Sometimes space can be good, it can be eye-opening, show us things we don't want to admit but know deep down."
My words hit him head-on, like a slap across the face- I don't need to see him to know it, I can tell just from the stillness in the room, the silence, so strong that even his shadows have withered.
I clench my eyes at the feeling, at the touch that strokes against my soul, him reaching out to me through the mating bond- and me slamming up every wall I have to keep him away.
"What does that mean?!"
I don't hear him until he's right behind me and when his large hand touches the small of my back, I jolt, stumbling into the bed to get away from it. I turn on shaking legs to face him, and I'm pressed into the mattress to keep the distance.
"What? Y/N-" His face pales, and I see the pain in his eyes, unlike anything I had ever witnessed from him before. It was raw, vulnerable as if five hundred years of existence couldn't hide the hurt, knowing that I had flinched from his touch, flinched from him.
A rejection- something he feared the most.
"Sweetheart, please, I don't understand," He shook his head, his beautiful face twisted into an agonised frown, and his voice trembled, weak, as weak as the hand that now reached for me, shaking as if scared to touch me. "Why won't you let me touch you? Why are you pulling away from me, why-"
He stops, and for a moment I think it's because of the tears steadily leaking down my face, the way my bottom lip trembles with the effort to hold myself together- but it's not. His nose flared, and the hazel in his eyes turned dark, narrowing down upon my hands.
"You're bleeding," He mumbles hoarsely and the pain in my chest triples when his scarred hands inch closer, my eyes fluttering shut the second he touches me, holding my palms in his and examining the small cuts. "What happened, sweetheart-"
"Don't! Don't- don't call me that, don't touch me," I croak out, my voice breaking and Azriel flinches at the cry in my voice, wings rustling when I yank my hands-free from his hold, as if his touch burned me. "Stop pretending, stop making me think you care, just-just stop."
"I don't understand, what do you mean pretending-" He pleads, his voice splintering, and I can see him thrumming with emotion, desperate to reach out to me, to hold me, but trying to respect what I had asked him. "I don't understand, help me understand what I did wrong-"
"I know how you feel about me, a-about us," I sob, my weak hands coming to my face, and I cry into them, so loud that nothing can muffle them, and I feel Azriel's' helplessness down the bond, still reaching for me, "It was cruel, to make me think-to make me think you loved me-"
"I do love you!" He snarls and my eyes snap open when I feel the familiar roughness of his hands against my wet cheeks, his grip unrelenting and needing as he draws me to him- and I don't have the strength to fight him. "Of course, I love you, why would you say that?"
His thumbs brush away the tears that won't stop leaking from my cheeks and somehow my fingers have found purchase in the material of his shirt, nails digging desperately, clutching him as tightly as he held me.
"You said it was wrong," I whisper, the words slurring in my throat, and I force my heavy eyes to his, force myself to look into those teary hazel eyes and confront him, with the burden I had been carrying alone this whole time. "You said that we were wrong, that the Cauldron was wrong."
His forehead creases, lines forming between the thick, dark brows as he peers down at me, and his hands don't release me, if anything they draw me closer.
And I see the moment realisation hits him, like ice-cold water seeping through his veins.
"I heard you talking to Rhys and Cass, you said we were proof," I gasp, feeling his shadows curl and wreath around my wrists and fingers, as if afraid to let go, as if trying to comfort me as I sniff. "You said we were proof that the Cauldron could be wrong, so wrong."
"I didn't mean you, Y/N, I would never mean you," He beseeches, his breath caressing my face, my lips and his eyes are so intense, so vibrant that I can't look away, "I didn't mean you, I meant me, I'm wrong!"
I suck in a harsh breath at his outburst and I feel it then- the self-deprecation, the vulnerability, the fear, it was all aimed at himself, it was all about him.
The silence stretches on as we stare at each other and my face must hold every ounce of my surprise and confusion, because he sighs, his forehead resting against mine. I see his wings sag behind him, as if defeated.
"I don't know how much you heard but I did not mean that the Cauldron was wrong to pair you with me," He mutters, his words unsteady, and my eyes flutter shut at his words, "I meant that the Cauldron was wrong to pair me with you- the Cauldron has blessed me but forsaken you."
"Azriel-" I gasped, and it was now my hand that lifted between us, my hand that cupped his stubbled cheek, forcing his eyes to mine. "That's not true, I'm not forsaken, I'm blessed, I'm Cauldron-blessed, Mother-blessed to have you-"
"Y/N you deserve the world, the sun and the moon and the stars," Azriel's voice breaks, a sob gurgling in his throat as he nestles against my palm, now wet with his tears. "I have spent five hundred years being unworthy of anything, and now that I have you, I will spend the next five hundred being unworthy of you."
He felt unworthy of me, he thought that he did not deserve me.
"Don't say that don't- you've given me the world and more," I shake my head, forcing every inch of surety and strength into my voice, "I love you, so much, so much that the thought of you thinking we were wrong, it killed me Az, because you're all I need."
He shakes his head against my hold, but his hands slip down my back, down my waist and to my hips and thighs, fingers digging into my flesh, holding onto my meat for leverage and pressing my soft body against his firm one for dear life.
"Not once did I ever think you were the problem, I thought it was me," His brow furrows deeper at my words, and I see the denial in his eyes, in his face, "I see a male who is beautiful inside and out, who is powerful and skilled, who has been a saviour to this Court in so many ways and I can't come close, I can't ever be equal to that Az."
"Y/N, no-" He growls, nails carving crescent moons into my flesh.
"I'm not a warrior like Nesta or a ruler like Feyre," I continue, and I open up the walls I erected to keep him out from my soul and mind, letting the mating bond flow freely again- to let him see all I had thought these few days. "I'm not beautiful like Elain... I'm not enough."
"You are everything," He hisses, and I can feel his overwhelming pain as sure as if it were my own as he graces over my feelings and thoughts- as he takes in every disgusting, horrific thing I had thought about myself, about my body. "You are everything and more to me, Y/N."
Power flashes through his eyes and then his head ducks toward me, capturing my lips in his.
Time seems to slow when his lips meet mine in a gentle collision, the kind of impact that steals the breath from my lungs, the kind I can't get enough of. Azriel grumbles at the taste of wine on my mouth, his tongue lapping at mine as if devouring the sweetness.
"Azriel," I sigh, like putty in his capable hands, and like always, he's skilled with how he handles my body, so easily turning us so my legs hit the mattress, my body weightless as he lifts me to sit on the edge.
"I have seen you navigate politics and arrogant High Lords in a way that has us all on our knees," He mutters against my lips, and I croon at the feel of his hands languishing up my thighs and hips, squeezing the flesh, his eyes dark with desire now.
His nose brushes against my cheek, so bare, as he kisses and trails his tongue along my jaw, moving down my neck and I can't do anything but moan softly as he lies me flat on my back, his powerful body towering over me, covering me wholly.
"I have seen you cut down soldiers triple your size as if they were little more than weeds in a field," His canines scrape against the racing pule-point at my neck and my eyes flutter, neck exposing for him and back arching when his hand cups my breast over my shirt.
He settles between my thighs, and he groans when his hard length brushes my wet core, the smell of arousal heavy in the air, the kind of stimulation that made us both dizzy with need. I arch my hips up to meet him, needing to feel something, anything from him.
"And I have seen males and females alike marvel at your beauty, at your body, desiring to see you without a scrap of clothing on," Azriel's voice turns furious, dark, as if the mere thought of someone else seeing me naked made him violent, honed to kill.
"Az, please," I mewl, fingers clawing at his back, feeling the muscles ripple under my touch, his shadows in a frenzy, caressing and dancing and wreathing around my body, feeding off every moan that escaped me. "I need you Az, please."
He presses long, wet kisses against my jugular and I sigh in relief when I feel his body shift, hips lifting and the sound of a belt clinking as he unhooks his slacks, freeing his hard length from within.
"I love you, sweetheart," His head lifts, face tight with sincerity and I can feel the thumping of his heart against mine, those intense eyes capturing me wholly. "I love all of you, I love all that you are-"
"Body," His fingers hook into my underwear, and I gasp as he tugs the wet material to the side, fingers brushing my clit.
"Mind," Our sounds meld as he rubs the tip of his cock against me, parting my folds, spreading my arousal from my entrance to my clit, and his breathing deepens as I whimper.
"And soul." He pushes into my entrance, stretching me just from the tip and automatically, my thighs clamp around his hips and my back arches at the feeling of him.
"I love you, Y/N," He pushes in until his long, thick length hits my cervix and my cunt is stretched thoroughly, throbbing around him. I trace my hands up his arms, nails scratching along every muscle, every strong, lean plane of him.
"I love you too, Azriel," I whisper back, and when my eyes flutter open, I see him above me and I know that nothing else, no one else could feel this right.
He doesn't move, merely staring down at me, his eyes burning like embers- feeling the thought as intensely as I did.
The Cauldron was right, so right.
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