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vee-nvs · 2 years

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SEARCHING…: QUALITY TIME

🏷 — CASSIAN X READER, KALLIAS X READER, ERIS X READER, TARQUIN X READER, FEYRE X READER, MOR X READER, EMERIE X READER

📍 — their love language is quality time

🔖 — cursing, unestablished relationship, (excepet for eris), gn!reader (you/ your pronous), kallias and his bad jokes, some writing mistakes since english isn't my first language, pining,

I. CASSIAN

“oh! look at that one, cass! looks exactly like a rabbit.”

“a rabbit? no, it’s a… oh, shit, i see it!”

you felt warmness in your chest, giggling like a child at the male by your side. you felt like a child, no worries in mind as you were lying down in the grass and watching the clouds.

after the war, you felt like you deserved it. cassian deserved it. hell, the whole prythian deserved sunny days like those, not too hot nor too cold – just the perfect weather to be outside.

cassian felt his heart skip a beat as he saw you smiling, the sun light illuminating you even if the sunshade protect your faces from it. you looked gorgeous - there was no makeup, no nice clothing and the gentle wind had messed your hair. it's not that cassian didn't like it when you were all dolled up - please, he also loved it too -, however now you looked pretty in a different way. you looked comfortable - at home, he would dare to say - by his side. did you notice the bond? had it cliked into place for you as well? or did you see him just as a friend and that was the main reason you were so comfortable by his side?

“that one is a cow.” he said, trying to block the questions that were popping in his mind.

“a cow? no way, it's a horse"

II. KALLIAS

"he must lie a lot, this snowman of yours" kallias said right after you put the carrot on the face.

"what?! why?"

"he has such a big nose." you rolled your eyes at his lame joke, turning back to the snowman to put on the rocks he would've for eyes.

it was a cold afternoon, but it wasn't unnusual at all in the winter court. kallias had been on meeting with local lords and decided to take walk after it ended to relax. it was a coincidence that he found you building a snowman in the forest.

“you look stressed”

“why do you think i look stressed?” he asked, surprised you had notice how he felt just by looking at his direction. kallias liked to think he was good at hiding his emotions.

“your shoulders are tense.” you told him as you kneeled down to get more snow “maybe this will help.”

thud

kallias was trying to process the last 10 seconds. you just threw a snowball at him, hitting his chest, and now you were laughing. for the mother, be loved your laugh.

“your face hahaha… you should’ve seen it!”

“oh, so you it’s war what you want.” he kneeled down, getting a handful of snow.

“wait, ka…” you tried to say between giggles.

“i’ll give you war” he screamed, a smile on his face as he threw the snowball at you. you manage to hide behind your snowman in time and started getting more snow as fast as you could.

III. ERIS

you hadn't felt this comfortable in a long time. you and eris were by the fireplace reading peacefully, as if meeting each other wasn't a threat to your well-being, as if you weren't hiding in a cabin he built close to the autumn border, but in the winter territory to reduce the chances of any of his father's guards coming to get you there.

rationally, eris knew beron wouldn’t do to you what he had done to jesminda, but death wasn't always the worst destiny and his father had many punishments to prove it. and eris wouldn't allow beron to use you as a way to keep him on the line.

and the best way to protect you would definitely be to not see you at all. but eris couldn't help it, he enjoyed your presence way to much to stay way.

"your book must be really boring. you know, since you've been staring at me for a few minutes now."

he chuckled, closing his book as he used an arm to bring you closer to him by your waist.

"so must be yours if you noticed it."

"it's hard to concetrate when you're staring at me like that." you rolled your eyes before turning back to your to your book, while snuggling at eris' chest.

he moved his hand to embrace your waist and kissed you on your temple. his moves certanly didn't reflect his thougths - he needed to kill beron, as quickly as possible, because it was getting harder and harder to stay way from you.

IV. TARQUIN

“am i doing this right?”

“yes… no, not really.”

“fuck, i suck at this” tarquin hissed, walking away from you to sit back on the floor, his back against the wall.

you asked the musicians that were there if they could do a brief pause, giving you and the high lord a minute by yourselves.

“‘m sorry, i’m wasting your time.” tarquin gulped as you sat by his side. “i’m never going to learn all those dances.”

“look, my lord…”

“tarquin. you can just call me tarquin” he interrupted you.

you had been teaching him dance for weeks now and tarquin would be lying if he said he didn’t develop a interest in you. the possibility of becoming high lord never crossed his mind, but now here he was, having to learn even more things, with most of his tutors treating him like a child that knew nothing. it wasn’t his fault that he was brought under the mountain too young to learn most things.

however, you were always patient with him - probably because you were just as young as him, and not almost a century older like his other tutors - and it made tarquin grew some affection towards you, always going to your classes and wanting to do good to impress you.

he enjoyed spending time with you - even if he was embarrassing himself with his lack of ability.

“ok, tarquin” you smiled “all high lords learn those dances. all of them. and you’re a lot brighter than the ones i’ve met. so, please, trust me when i say you’re fully capable of doing this.”

tarquin felt his cheeks burning. yes, he definitely was. even more with you as his tutor.

V. FEYRE

“so, like this?” you asked as you passed the paint-brush in the canvas, a light blue line appearing.

“uh-hm, you just don’t have to hold it so tight. you’ll hurt your hand.”

“sorry, i’m just nervous. are you sure we should be using a canvas already? wouldn’t it be better to start of in, i don’t know, paper?”

feyre laughed, a sweet laugh that didn’t make you think she was making fun of you. she found you endearing, to be honest, and was really happy that you came to her to learn how to paint.

“if you want to learn how to paint on paper, that’s fine. but the painting process can be different depending on where you are doing it.”

“oh, ok” you spoke before turning back to the canvas.

feyre felt her heart beat faster. you were alone in her studio and you were siting really close to her, so close she could smell your perfume and had to hold back the urge to put a lock of hair that was in your face behind your ear. maybe you wouldn’t think much of her actions, maybe you would see it as just a friendly thing, but feyre didn’t want to risk it.

you were such a good friend. she met you under the mountain and you had stick together since then. you had seen her at her worst and still befriended her. how couldn’t she fall in love?

but feyre was afraid of losing you, she couldn’t ruin such an amazing friendship by asking you out.

so she would just enjoy every second of the time you gave her, be it by teaching you how to paint, dacing in the rita or chatting late at night when the memories of under the mountain wouldn’t let any of you sleep.

she would enjoy it for as long as she co nould.

VI. MOR

"and then he just sent her away! back to him!" mor hissed. she was furious at her coussin for sending feyre, his mate and her friend, back to the spring court.

"oh, mor..." you said, patting her arm "i... i'm so sorry. and totally agree with you, but rhys is not that dumb, i think it's safe to say he wouldn't do it unless he was 100% sure she would be save. he might have a thing for self sacrifice, but i don't think it extends to his mate."

mor forced a giggle at your statement. she knew you were right, but the recent events still played in her head, together with the image of how feyre was when she went inside that mansion to save her.

but the blonde was feeling better - you had this effect on her, somehow always making her feel better, more optimistc, even when she didn't feel like it was possible.

"we can stay here. play somethin’ and chill instead of going to the rita's, if you prefer" you suggested, already getting rid of your shoes.

"well, do you have wine?" she asked, smiling.

you giggled, but didn't answer, just getting up and into the kitchen, only to come back with a bottle of her favorite wine.

"for the mother, y/n you're the best!"

and mor truly believed that. she had met many great people - and just as many terrible - but you stood out. you always manage to make her feel happier, at home. so she was always looking for excuses to spend more time with you, sometimes she would wait outside your working place for the end of your office hour so you could go out together. hell, even cassian had taken note of how much she enjoyed your company.

however, morrigan had no idea if you had got a glimpse of her true feelings, of how much she liked you as more than just a friend. there were times, after a few glasses of wine, that she had gotten so close to kissing you or spitting her feelings that she was certain there were no way you didn't know about how she felt. but, at the same time, you never treated her any different - neither less nor more than good friends.

and mor wasn't sure if she would be able to keep the act for much longer.

VII. NESTA

nesta would likely never admit it to anyone - even if she wasn't trying to hide it at the same time -, but you were the only good thing at her life at the moment.

and yes, the nightmares of being throw inside the cauldron were horrible, but the ones about losing you were just as bad.

"for the mother, nes. this place is a mess!" you pointed out after entering her apartment. she was laying in the sofa after having yet another nightmare that left her sheets soaked in sweat and tears.

"i know, sorry" she tried to get up to go to you, but she felt dizzy and had to sit again.

"when was the last time you ate?"

"yesterday. i just woke up."

"and when exactly was that?"

"...i had lunch."

"nes!"

"it was a late lunch, ok?"

"ok, this can wait." you, said, leaving the pile of clothes you got from the floor in the sofa, besides her, holding her hand instead and helping her to get up.

"let's go have some breakfast."

nesta changed in a clean dress quickly before following you out of her place. you walked slowly by her side, making small talk as nesta tried to pay attettion to every word that left your month, but sometimes she would get distrected by the way the wind would blow your hair, your how your skin shined in the morning sun. nesta always though the children of the blessed were stupid, delussional to idolize such malicious beings as the fae. however, when she looked at you, she could understand them - she also felt like you deserved to be idolized.

but you were different, you were good and cared for her without making her feel like she was in dept for that. and she was even more sure of it as you got to the coffee shop and pointed some breads that could be of her liking.

at first, nesta didn't feel like talking - she was still sleepy and hungry. but after sitting down to eat, she started telling you about the last time she saw feyre and how much of a disaster it was and how it had been a month since elain went to see her, not showing any interest of being in her presence.

and every time she made eye contact with you, seeing no sing of judgment or boredom in your face, she was even more certain about her feelings.

and when she asked your opinion, and you told her you didn't agree 100% with her behavior, but could see why she act the way she did - being understanding of her mistakes and trying to explain how she could do different without invalidating her feelings. that was when she knew she was in love with you for sure.

maybe beeing an immortal being wasn't that bad if it meant she had more time with you.

VIII. EMERIE

"i'm so mad at you"

"mad?! you should be forever grateful" emerie laughed at your comment.

she gave you one of her favorites books for your birthday, insisting you just had to read it. it took you a week to read it and now you were both at your house, talking about the plot and the characters over dinner.

"i mean, yes i kind am, but i also wish i had read it slower, you know? i already miss the characters."

"that's why i gave you your own copy instead of boring you mine, so now you can reread it whenever you want."

"the mother really blessed me with such a smart friend, didn't she?" you said rollling your eyes, making emerie laugh again. "kind wish she would also bless me by allowing me to have someone love me as much as the love interest love the protagonist."

emerie tried not to look so bothered by your statement. the truth was, she could love you like that, make you feel desired like that. but she wasn't sure if you wanted her to want you like that. you never gave any sign of seeing her as more than just a friend as she was away to scared to confess and risk losing you completily.

"by the way, that's why i'm mad at you" you said again, taking her out of her line of thoughts. "how am i supossed to date any real person after meeting such amazing characters?"

"hahahaha, yeah, nesta said the same."

"oh, by the way, how are the training?"

"it's hell, honestly." emerie started talking about funny moments of the training and updating you on how things had been between nes and cassian.

"god, she's so luck."

"did you hear me say she had to do run around the training area like, 50 times? that's not what i'd call lucky, personaly."

"no, i'm not talking about this." you laughed "i've never met the guy, but by the way you and gwyn talk about his interaction with nes, i feel like he looks at her like those men from the books look at the protagonists."

"for the cauldron, you are such a helpless romantic."

"am not!" you disagreed, laughing again.

emerie felt like she could drown in your laugh, die and be brought back to life. if only you noticed that you also had someone look at you like those characters from the books...

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ofduskanddreams · 2 years

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AU Cassian and Azriel on Halloween

Azriel: *wears all black *

Cassian: Hey man, you forget a costume?

Azriel: I'm a shadow.

Cassian: But you wear black everyday.

Azriel: So?

Cassian: *irked* You can't wear what you always wear and call it a costume just because you label it.

Azriel: *shrugs and goes to grab a beer*

Cassian texts Nesta: babe, u still have those cat ears?

Nesta replies: we have ppl over Cass now isn't the time

Cassian: not for that. bring them to the backyard, don't let Az see.

Cassian: *holding cat ears behind his back* Az! Honey, I have a surprise for you! *grins devilishly*

----

Is this possibly a sneak peek at a scene in my upcoming modern au gwynriel fic? Maybe...

#acotar headcanon #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian headcanon #azriel headcanons #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nessian #azrielweek2022

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shallyne · 2 years

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Nyx and Cassian Headcanon

Imagine little Nyx looking up at Cassian and one day he decides he wants to have hair like uncle Cassie and he let's it grow to be like him

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lily-chen-supremacy · 2 years

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cassian and azriel co-owning a fluffy lil cat is something i didn’t know i needed in my life

#cassian #azriel #cat people #acotar #sjm #bat boys #bat boys headcanons #acotar headcanon #cassian headcanon #azriel headcanon

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beardburnsupersoldiers · 1 year

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Random Cassian headcanon:

He’s a total nerd for you. After you have your mating ceremony, he spends a week announcing your presence wherever you go in the most ridiculous ways. “Presenting Y/N! Queen of my heart and magnificent baker of cookies and cakes!” “Announcing the gorgeous, intelligent, and magnanimous Y/N- princess of perfection with an ass that just won’t quit!”

#cassian acotar #lord of bloodshed #acotar #general cassian #cassian #cassian headcanon

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readychilledwine · 21 days

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Odd request, but how do you think the acotar men would react to brushing their females cervix during sex ( you don’t have to write it if you don’t feel comfortable doing so) 💕

This kink isn't my cup of tea, but I know a lot of you like the idea of it so, let's gooooooo

The First Time He Brushed Your Cervix Head Canons

Warning - graphic link to make sure you understand some positioning

Rhysand

Rhysand's instinct as a high lord is to breed, so the first time you jump from him hitting that sensitive area, he can't help but to try over and over again

It made him practically feral, feeling so close to your womb he could practically release directly into it

He'd have your knees practically to your chest, hands gripping your ass as he plowed into you.

It turns into his goal every time you two fuck now. Even if succeeding in that goal means you won't walk for a few days.

"You like that, don't you? Like feeling me so deep inside of you. Your cunt sure swallows me like she does."

Cassian

With Cassian, it was a given, but it still made you whine for him.

He makes you look and feel even tinier than you are, and with how hung he is, it becomes a regular thing.

He always checks when it happens to make sure you're okay, but fuck he wishes he could just fuck straight through it.

Cassian didn't know he had a breeding Kink until it happened.

He's tried having you ride so you could prevent it, but his face when you sink all the way down is worth the little bit of shock.

"That's it, baby, relax. You feel so good wrapped around me, squeezing my cock so tight. Fuck, baby. Going to cum so deep inside of you."

Azriel

Azriel did it on purpose.

He knows you like pain mixed in with your pleasure, and he's more than happy to provide.

He loves watching you squrim while he's giving you deep, hard thrusts from behind

He has a filthy mouth to match the action to, mocking you as you cry out his name but beg for it over and over again.

He's a sadistic lover, so once you two discovered that was okay as long as it was discussed prior, he was sold.

"Fuck, I'm going to ruin this pussy and you'll just let me, won't you?" As he grabs your chin and forced you to nod. "That's right, you feel me, baby? Feel me stretching you out? Good girl. Good fucking girl."

Lucien

He stopped. He immediately stopped. He couldn't tell if your gasp was a happy one or one of pain.

It was one of pain, so he pulled out and immediately laid you on your back.

He buried his head between your legs for the night after that. Bring you to completion over and over until you were begging for him to be inside of you.

He was careful this time, giving you the deep thrusts you wanted but being so gentle as he bottomed out at a different angle.

"Making me feel like a God, bunny. This tight little cunt was made for me, wasn't she?"

Eris

I have a head canon that Eris is a gentle love maker, despite how I tend to write him

Eris, much like Lucien, stopped when it happened.

He only cared about you being okay. He's read enough books to know the nerves there are beyond sensitive.

When you were fine, something ignited in him. It became one of his favorite things, but he didn't plan or seek it to happen. When it does happen, though, the way he talks you through it is enough to push you over the edge.

"My pretty little mate. This cunt is perfect. Always so tight and wet for me. Is she all mine?"

Tamlin

Tamlin's reaction is very similar to Rhysand's.

The urge for a High Lord to breed breed breed turns him into a growling mess.

Claws will dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips when it happens, but you absolutely love it

Sex with Tamlin could never get boring. Shape shifter, remember?

You've gotten to experience him shifting his cock to different sizes and forms just to kiss your cervix once you two decided you liked it.

In short, if the Cauldron had not made you Tamlin's mate, you'd pick him for his cock alone, regardless.

(Listen. Liz could write a lot of monster fucking about Tamlin.)

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #rhys acotar #eris vanserra #cassian acotar #lucien acotar #tamlin acotar #acotar headcanons #acotar x reader headcanons

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animezinglife · 1 month

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Nyx Headcanons

Headcanons for my favorite little bean, because we don't talk about him enough.

He 100% inherits Rhys's "earth-shattering" power. That extra chapter where Feyre and Rhys were deciding on a name and basically felt powers shifting in the Force when Nyx came up makes me firmly believe that.

He's a good, sweet kid but also goes through a few phases where he's an absolute nightmare to raise through no fault of his own. Nyx is a happy baby, but has zero concept of his power when it starts to show, leaving one very tired High Lord and High Lady when he shatters a window in his nursery when wiggling his arms excitedly.

He's an intuitive little guy though and very quickly figures out he needs to be careful when Feyre and Rhys try to teach him to get a handle on that power. He learns this the hard way after accidentally nightmisting one of his toys.

Nobody for the life of them can figure out why he adores cranky Auntie Amren so much. Though he's not old enough to explain it, he thinks she's another child to play with. Cassian suggests this and Amren nearly rips his head off.

Nyx is a full-fledged mama's boy. He adores Feyre and is a complete snugglebug with her. He's also very protective of his mama.

That said, he idolizes his dad too and copies everything he does. He follows Rhys around and mimics everything, right down to trying to copy the High Lord's graceful swagger. Feyre, naturally, absolutely melts at the sight of him waddling after his dad with one hand in his pocket looking too cool for school on his tiny little legs.

Nyx is obsessed with Starfall, and his first-ever painting is a finger painting of him with his parents under those stars. Rhys gets misty-eyed when he sees it.

He's besties with Kallias and Viviane's little snow angel. The fact they're the same age is perfect--when the grown-ups are too boring tending to one courtly matter or the other, Nyx and his friend can easily pass the time playing in the snow. Nyx already has met his match in the realm of snowball fighting, and takes a new tactic or two back to absolutely wallop his uncles. Rhys could not be more proud of this fact.

Nyx takes his role as Eldest Cousin very seriously, but there's one cousin in particular who absolutely does not and will not listen to a word he says. Guess whose kid that cousin is.

Nyx takes a little too much after his mother sometimes in that he befriends every semi-civil demon-thing or dark spirit that walks the face of the earth. To Uncle Cassian's absolute horror, Nyx is apparently friends with Bryaxis...and Bryaxis loves this kid.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nyx #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian #nesta archeron #kallias x viviane #feysand #acotar headcanons #amren #azriel

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danikamariewrites · 4 months

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Hello helloooo! Got a request for you if it piques your interest! Thinking of some kind of fic or HCs with Cassian x reader where reader is the type who cries when they’re talked to sternly or yelled at and generally when they’re told “no”. Like they try their hardest to hold back tears but they can’t stop the fattest tear drops from falling and whenever Cassian sees them he just melts and feels terrible. It can be totally unserious where Cassian is like “baby we have ice cream at home why do you need to get some from this store right now?” or you could go the serious route with Cassian getting frustrated and yelling. 🥹

When he says no headcanon

Cassian x reader

Warnings: none

You’ve always been in tune with your emotions

You cry a lot! And there’s nothing wrong with that

Happy tears when something good happens for one of your friends or your book has a happy ending

Sad tears when you get bad news or Cassian is upset because you just want him to be ok

The tears you always try to hold back are when Cassian tells you no or uses his general voice

It can be something so unserious too

“Cass can we stop and get snacks?” “Can we have junk food all day?” “Can we have dessert then dinner?” “Do we have to go, or can we skip the event?” “Can you just stay home with me all day?”

Cassian hates saying no to you, he truly gets no joy from it

If anything it breaks his heart. You’re his mate, you should have whatever your heart desires

His many responses include, “no, baby not right now.” “Not today baby, I’m sorry.” “No baby.”

The saddest frown pulls at your lip, your lip wobbles even though you try to stop it, and silver lines your eyes as you sadly respond, “oh…ok Cass.”

You can’t help that your tears fall, you have to let your emotions out because you hate bottling things up

Before you can start sobbing Cassian holds your face wiping the tears away

“Ohh sweet pea don’t cry. We can do whatever you want in a little bit, yeah.” You nod and give him a big hug to let him know you’re ok

When he’s serious and uses his general voice Cassian is very firm

It kind of scares you (in other situations it turns you on tho)

He doesn’t use a nickname either Cass uses your actual name

“No y/n. I said no, we will talk about it later.”

You immediately start sobbing and don’t give him the chance to comfort you

You run off to your bedroom and shut the door in his face

Cass takes some time to cool off and give you your space before he comes to apologize for being too mean

When he does come to apologize he has your favorite treat as a peace offering

He snuggles you in bed, rubbing up and down your spine in comforting strokes while he apologizes

“I didn’t mean to snap at you sweet pea. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

You can never stay mad at him long (that makes you even more upset, hating staying mad at ppl)

On days like that Cassian drops everything to stay with you to make sure you’re ok

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #cassian acotar #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian #cassian headcanons #Cassian headcanon #cassian x y/n

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jeannineee · 8 months

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Could you do headcanons on the Bat Boys + Lucien and Eris where reader puts them on a sex ban? Like how would long would they last until they start basically begging reader to let them touch reader.

I feel like Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t last that long and start trying to find ways to get reader give in lol.

Sex Ban with the ACOTAR Men…

a/n: this was actually really funny to write

nsfw under the cut (18+ please)

Rhysand:

He’s lasting maybe a week. MAYBE.

Rhys would also be cocky enough to think that you weren’t serious about banning sex

And then he’d be shocked when you follow through

He’d pretend to be unbothered

But he’d quickly turn to endless flirting to try and make you change your mind—mostly with his daemati abilities.

You’d be at an inner circle meeting or at lunch with friends and he’d send mental images of him fucking you, or you on your knees for him, etc.

“I bet you miss feeling me inside you,” he’d say into your mind.

You’re not leaving the bedroom for a couple of days when you finally lift the ban

Cassian:

Poor Illyrian baby isn’t making it more than a single day

He has a high sex drive so this would be a nightmare for him LMAO

He definitely pouts. Not obnoxiously, but he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind, placing wet kisses along the crook of your neck, murmuring how much he wants to feel you wrapped around his cock.

And when you say no, he continues telling you all the filthy things he wants to do you, smirking as he scents your arousal.

Tons of lingering touches—a kiss on the cheek, or a light squeeze on your ass as he walks by you.

When he’s finally had enough he’ll press his hardness into you from behind, practically whining.

And the way he nips at your ear makes it almost impossible to deny him.

Azriel:

He could wait for quite some time, honestly.

He has the self-control for it!!

However!! The longer you make him wait? The longer he edges you when you finally give in.

MAN he would have a field day when you finally lifted the ban.

He’d waste zero time in tying you up, be it with rope or his shadows.

For Azriel, he gets a lot of pleasure just from watching your pleasure. So he’d bring you to the edge, be it with his tongue, his cock, his fingers.

Only to pull away at the last moment. He wouldn’t stop until you’re begging him.

And boy does he love to hear you beg!!

Once he finally lets you come, he’s overstimulating you too.

He’s a lil mean but we love it.

Lucien:

Like Azriel, I feel like he could wait quite a while.

But he tries his absolute hardest to get you to break!!

Whispering what he wants to do to you when the two of you are at an important meeting or out in public, where you can do nothing about it.

Walking around the house shirtless—bonus points if he just finished showering or working out.

He definitely gets a bit more touchy than usual, constant hugs and kisses.

But when he’s finally had enough, this male is not above begging.

Good luck walking the morning after you finally give in ❤️

Eris:

He could go maybe two weeks before he becomes feral.

Definitely uses touch as a way to try and get you to give in.

Heated makeouts, his tongue exploring your mouth, as his thumbs caress your nipples; grinding against you, etc.

And then he’ll grumble when you deny him.

“Don’t forget how easily I can turn you into a mess,” he’ll say.

He definitely proves that statement when you end the ban!!

When you finally end the ban, he draws at least 3 orgasms from you back to back, and makes you beg for each one.

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 7 months

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Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader

Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?

Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.

Word count: 7k.

Warnings: Some injury detail.

“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”

Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.

Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.

Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.

“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”

“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”

“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”

“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”

“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.

He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.

Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.

He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.

Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?

He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.

“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”

Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”

“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”

“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”

“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”

“I’m not saying that, Az—”

“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”

“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”

“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”

“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”

Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.

He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.

And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”

“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”

Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”

“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”

Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.

“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”

As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”

“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”

That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.

Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”

Az says again, “Fuck you.”

Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”

“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.

“Where are you going?” Az asks.

“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”

He has no idea how right he is.

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It starts with the fire going out. Always.

The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.

You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.

Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.

Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.

Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.

But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.

“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.

“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”

It.

“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”

“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”

You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.

Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”

The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”

You do not move.

“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”

They laugh at that.

You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”

He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.

“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”

If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.

“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”

“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”

There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.

“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”

You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.

You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.

You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.

“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”

And then they begin hacking at your wings.

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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.

You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.

The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.

“Will she live?” Your father asks.

“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”

“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”

“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”

“I will do with my child as I see fit.”

“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”

Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”

“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”

Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.

Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”

No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.

You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.

Bury the body.

Bury the—

Your body lurches up.

Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.

The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.

They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.

You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.

“You were shouting in your sleep again.”

You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.

“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”

“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”

“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”

“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”

Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.

The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.

“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”

Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—

“I’m going, I’m going.”

The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.

Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”

“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”

“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”

She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.

“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”

“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”

She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”

You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.

Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.

And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.

But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.

You need to be away from them. To be on your own.

“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”

The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”

“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”

“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”

“Of course I will.” No.

She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.

But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.

“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”

“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”

She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.

You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.

You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.

So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.

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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.

The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.

He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—

“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”

Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.

Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”

Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.

The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.

See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.

Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.

It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.

It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.

Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.

“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”

Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”

There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”

At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.

“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”

“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.

It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.

But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.

Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”

No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.

He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”

He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.

Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”

“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.

Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”

“Listen, Cassian—”

“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”

All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.

All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.

But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.

She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.

“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”

Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.

Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.

“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”

Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”

Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.

“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”

“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.

Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.

“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”

True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.

She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.

So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?

This is fucking ridiculous.

She can’t be left to live like this.

“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”

Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.

Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”

Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.

“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”

Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”

“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”

The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.

But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.

“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.

She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.

“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”

Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”

“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”

Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.

But Az seems oblivious.

“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”

“She wouldn’t—”

“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.

Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”

Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”

Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”

“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”

“Cassian, that is enough—”

“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”

Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.

“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.

He barks a laugh. “No chance.”

“Kaeda just said she’d help—”

“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”

Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—

“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”

Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”

“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.

Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”

Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.

Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.

And then there were two.

Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.

“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”

A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”

“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”

Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.

“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”

She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

This is starting to feel like a bad idea.

It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.

This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.

You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.

And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?

These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.

You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.

You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.

No.

You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—

But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.

“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”

If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”

“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”

But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.

“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.

But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.

Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.

“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”

You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”

“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”

You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”

“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”

“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”

He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”

“No.”

“What? Why?”

“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”

“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”

“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”

You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”

“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”

“Why?”

“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”

It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.

Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”

“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”

Azriel stops short. Stares at you.

You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.

You’re not sure you can do that anymore.

Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”

“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”

Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.

You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.

And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.

“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”

You fold your arms. “Fine.”

“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”

“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”

“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”

You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.

So you say nothing. You just shrug again.

He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.

You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.

And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”

He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.

And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.

azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd

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moviesismylife · 1 month

Text

BAT BOYS react to the ✨pheromone✨ perfume

Note:

I don’t know if y’all have seen the viral pheromone perfume on TikTok, but apparently it’s supposed to make men go craaazzzyy, so I thought I’d make a little post on how I think our favorite bat boys would react to you wearing it✨

Enjoy x

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rhysand

I open the door to my mate’s office, and spot him hunched over some paperwork at his desk. As soon as I enter, his head snaps up to me.

“My love, thank the cauldron you’re here.” He says relived, as he looks me over.

I smile at him. “You needed my help?”

He nods, motioning for me to come over. I swiftly pad over to him, standing next to his chair, where he’s seated. Placing a hand on my hip, he drags me closer.

“Could you help me file all these? Seems there were a lot more than I expected.” He looks at the large pile of papers placed in front of him on the desk.

“Of course.” I say with a little smile.

“Perfect.” He grins back, and pulls me down onto his lap.

I yelp a little at the quick motion, but settle myself comfortably, my back facing his chest. He nuzzles his head in my neck, as he always does, wrapping his arms around my waist.

Flipping my hair to one side, I lean forward to grab a small pile of papers to read over. As Rhys’s nose brushes over my exposed neck, he stills. I hear him sniff. A short pause, then another sniff. And another.

“My love…is this a new perfume?” He asks casually, as he continues to brush his nose over my bare neck.

“Mhm.” Is the only response I give him, as I start to read over the file in my hand.

He sniffs again and again, nuzzling his head further into my neck. Then he uses one hand to angle my head to the side, to give him more access to my pulse point.

“Where did you get this…it smells…” he trails off, continuing to nuzzle my neck.

I smirk a little, knowing the perfume is working.

“Fuck…I don’t know if I’ll be able to do the paperwork.” He runs his nose repeatedly over my neck and collarbone.

I tilt my head to the side to look at him. “Rhys.”

He doesn’t move his head from my neck, letting his hand hold it in place on the other side, so he can have free reign. His other hand moves down and under my dress, trailing up my thigh.

“Rhys…” I say again.

“Hm?” He murmurs into my skin.

“We’re supposed to work.” I say.

“I think we can afford a break.”

“No you can’t-“

In one swift move, he’s moved me from his lap, and shoved me onto the desk, papers flying everywhere, and my legs spread wide.

“Rhys!” I swat his chest, but he only buries his head in my neck again, and moves both hands under my dress.

Giving up, I move my own hand to his hair, grinning a little at my accomplishment. Seems the perfume works.

Cassian

My sword clangs with Cassian’s, as I try to swing at him again. But he recognizes my maneuver, and knocks the sword out of my hand, turning me swiftly, pressing his own blade to my throat. His other hand splays at my front, and he leans down to my ear, whispering. “Nice try princess.”

I roll my eyes, and try to get out of his grip, but his strong arms keep me caged. I’m about to speak, when I hear him sniff my neck. I feel his head nuzzling deeper, and then another sniff, as his nose brushes my skin.

His sword drops to the ground, but he keeps me caged in his arms. The hand that was gripping the sword, now coming to hold the back of my neck.

“Fuck what is that.” He curses as he inhales the scent of my neck again.

“A new perfume I got from Mor. You like it?” I ask, grinning knowingly.

“Sweetheart I love it.” He sniffs my neck again.

I let out a little laugh. “It’s supposed to make males go crazy.”

He groans in response, his hand on my front, moving to grip my hip harshly. The hand on my neck stays firmly planted, keeping my head at an angle for him.

He runs his nose over my neck, sniffing repeatedly. “Fuck is it supposed to make us hard too? Because that’s what it’s resulted in.” He curses, pushing me flush against him, and I feel the bulge of his pants brushing against my clothed backside.

“I don’t know. The effects were not written on the package.” I say casually, but angle my head more for him.

He groans, and presses into me, making me let out a little moan. “Training’s over.”

Azriel

Standing in the kitchen, I stir through the pancake batter, when I hear Azriel trudging down the stairs.

“Leaving me in bed love? That’s new.” He says, as he comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle, and nuzzling his head in my neck.

“I wanted to make pancakes.” I say, simply continuing to stir the batter.

Suddenly I hear him sniff my neck, and run his nose over the exposed skin. He repeats the action a couple of times, tightening his grip on my waist.

“New perfume?”

I smile a little, knowingly, as I answer him. “Mhm. You like it?”

His grip tightens as he draws in a deep breath. He mumbles into my skin, “I love it.”

He continues to run his nose over my skin repeatedly, as if he can’t get enough of the smell.

I chuckle as he does this. “You really like it.” I say, as I push my behind back into his front, leaning back towards him. “Would you like to know what it is?”

“Very much so.” He mumbles, and his grip shifts to rest low on my hips, his hands pressing against the curve of my bottom.

“It’s called pheromone perfume. Supposed to make males go feral.” I smirk to myself knowingly.

His breath becomes heavy, and his grip tightens further. “Clearly it’s working then.” He says, burying his head into my exposed neck again.

“Mhm. Except you’re distracting me right now. I’m trying to make pancakes.”

“I’m not allowed to flirt with my mate?” He says, before nuzzling his nose into the skin just above the nape of my neck, then placing an open mouthed kiss to the spot. His hands are still tight on my hips.

I let out a laugh at that. “Yes you are. But don’t you want pancakes?” I tilt my head a little to the side to give him more access to my neck.

“Pancakes can wait.” He says, one hand leaving my hip to move up to my neck and gently lift my head back, exposing more of my throat. “You can’t though.”

I laugh even more at that, stopping my stirring, and turning around in his grip. “Alright then. If you insist.”

“Oh, I do insist.” He says, moving his hand from the back of my neck, to gently tug my head towards him, as he closes in the distance between us, and kisses me deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#acotar #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #bat boys x reader #bat boys react #headcanons

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tadpolesonalgae · 2 months

Text

Finding out you have a vibrator — headcanons

a/n: anon <3 request—I think they’d be a little grumpy at first, but then they’d join forces and would be absolutely awful (but in the best way possible 🧡💛)

warnings: smut, blindfold + crying w/ Az, implied oral (f! recieving) w/ Lucien

Rhysand:

“And what’s this?” Rhys asks, a smug note in his voice.

You turn around from where you’d been reorganising your desk, finding your mate reclined on the bed, playing with the familiar looking toy. Heat warms your cheeks, and you stride over to him, reaching for it.

“Don’t go riffling through my things, Rhys,” you snap, leaning to ply the toy from his large palms.

His grin widens, hands instead gripping your hips as he hauls you atop him, bringing you to settle over his hip.

“I thought you liked it when I…explored,” he muses softly, mouth brushing against your own as his palm grazes your spine, having you arch lightly.

“Me,” you murmur, settling into his hold. “When you explore me. Not what’s in my side tables.”

“Is that right?” He drawls, holding down one of the small buttons, until the toy starts whirring faintly. “How about we do a little exploring now?”

“Rhys…” you warn, hand wrapping around his wrist as you eye him warily. “I need to be cleaning my desk. Don’t you dare…”

But he lightly presses the whirring toy to your collar bone, dragging down, guiding the vibrator over your breast, circling your nipple lightly. “Mmhm, I’m sure you’d just love to go back to cleaning right now. Not sitting still and letting your loving mate give you some pleasure.”

Your throat rolls, and he trails the toy lower, guiding you so your legs sit either side his thigh. “You’re so mischievous,” you mutter under your breath.

His smirk widens, pressing another button so the buzzing increases, holding your gaze as he trails the toy lower, then slipping it between your legs and his thigh.

“You love my mischief, wife,” he whispers onto your lips, grinning.

“Just a little,” you murmur breathlessly, the vibrations soaking into your heat, whirring against your clit so deliciously.

His eyes twinkle, and warning bells ring dully in the background.

“Let’s see how much mischief you can take,” he muses, switching the toy to a higher setting.

Cassian:

You flush, trying not to fumble as the vibrator rolls out along with your other toiletries.

“Hm? What’s that for?” Cassian asks, sneaking up on you with surprising grace for someone as large as him, powerful arms wrapping comfortably around your waist, resting his chin atop your head.

“This? Oh, nothing,” you try, forcing a lightness into your voice. In honest you’d been packing in such a hurry you hadn’t checked what had already been in there from your last trip about…five years ago?

“It helps your skin to glow,” you fumble, “it massages a lotion in to help permeate through the…oils…”

“Is that so,” he replies, chuckling lowly, palm flattening over your lower abdomen, his heat sinking in as he lowers himself to nose at your throat.

You nod, breath catching when he begins pressing kisses up your neck, nipping at a spot below your jaw.

His laugh rumbles deep through his chest, having heat pooling between your legs as his hands wander lower.

“You think I don’t know what a vibrator is, sweetheart?” He drawls, lips grazing against your ear, your insides fluttering with the intimacy.

“I do have to wonder why you have something like this, though. Should I be giving you more pleasure?” He asks lowly, thumbing the toy from your hands, guiding it beneath the thin slip of your dress, running the tip over your heat teasingly.

“No, Cass…I’d— I’d forgotten it was even in there,” you answer, fumbling as heat short-circuits your mind, arousal tingling between your thighs.

“Uh-huh, sure you did,” he murmurs, nipping at your ear lightly, pulling your skirts up with his free hand so you can both watch as he presses the toy to your clit, holding the button down to have the rapid pulses zipping through it.

“Cass…” you pant, keeping your arms to your chest, subtly winding your hips against it, already so close to the edge from the sudden turn. How familiar he is with your pleasure.

“You should have brought this out earlier,” he remarks, rolling the toy over your clit, lightly dragging it up at down, shifting the amount of pressure he applies to it.

“You’re in for a long night now.”

Azriel:

“Az…” you mumble breathlessly, tears dripping down your cheeks, saturating through the silky blindfold. “A-Az…please…I can’t—…”

But he shushes you, powerful body curving over yours, chest pressing flush against your bare back, hot palm sliding over your lower abdomen, applying a slight pressure, keeping his hips pressed tight to the backs of your thighs.

“You’re taking me so well,” he murmurs, mouth brushing the side of your neck. “I know you like being good for me. So perfect at it, huh?”

You swallow thickly, whimpering softly, shifting on your elbows as you bite your lip, trying to slowly push back against him. The rope rubs at your wrists, bound comfortably, providing a tight constraint that put you at his mercy.

“Az…” you moan, back curving as you settle your front closer to the bed, breasts pressing into the mattress as you spread your thighs wider, trying to push against him to let him deeper. “Azriel…”

He groans from low in his throat, pulling away from your back as his broad palms settle around your hips, thumbs brushing over the small dips at the base of your spine.

“So good for me, aren’t you?” He praises, drawing his hips back slowly, if only to gently roll back in, using the cultivated muscle contained within his body to hold you against him, skin pressed tight.

“Want to try something else tonight?” He prompts, able to hear the faint smirk in his voice.

You whimper, squirming as you chase the feeling of his cock, how it touches those lovely spots, butterflies fluttering as arousal has your insides spasming with pleasure.

Azriel laughs lowly, chuckling softly as his weight shifts on the bed, your thighs trembling from pleasure, more tears dripping from beneath the blindfold.

“A-Azriel…?” You call weakly as you feel him shifting, stomach coiling with tension at what mischief he’s about to unleash upon you. You’re not sure if you can take it.

“You know, they’re inquisitive things,” he muses, finished reaching to whatever he was after. “Shadows,” he clarifies, trailing something lightly down your spine—…slowly. “You know they like you—want to know more.”

“Azriel…please…” you beg softly, trying to roll your hips against him, squeezing him, pulling him deeper.

“Mhmm? More?” He drawls, that unknown object trailing over your hip as he guides it closer to between your legs.

You flinch as he presses the object just shy of your clit, puffy and swollen from his relentless stimulation, and your breath catches.

“Recognise that, huh?” He murmurs, once again curving over you, chest pressing flush to your back, wings flaring with mutual possession, keeping you tucked away with him. “Feels familiar?”

“Az, wait—”

“Want me to stop?”

You pause, squeezing him, spine curving a little more, and he presses a soft kiss to the side of your throat.

“No…”

Eris:

“Eris? Eris what are you—” You falter, seeing the small, cylindrical object he has between his fingers.

“Would you like to tell me why you have this tucked away?” He asks, raising his fiery eyes to yours with a disapproving look. “…Wife.”

You flush, lips parting as you glance away in embarrassment. “Eris, listen…I—”

“Stay there,” he orders idly, and you pause, teeth pulling at the inside of your lip.

You watch, heart fluttering in your chest as he walks leisurely past your chest of drawers, settling in one of the large chairs of your shared bedroom. All the while heat unspools between your legs.

“Lock the door,” he instructs softly, the order sliding down your spine, making you suck in a small breath.

Without hesitation, you turn, clicking the lock to your shared chambers, feeling excited, ready for whatever he wants to do.

“Come here,” he says, the stance of his legs widening as he settles back in the plush armchair, your spine stiffening as arousal prickles beneath your skin.

You walk over to him, heat warming your body with anticipation as you come to a stop between his parted legs.

He inclines his chin, watching you with hunger in his eyes, arms settled over the rests either side, holding the toy between his thumb and fingers. “Come here.”

Your heart flutters, heat flooding your lower body as you swallow thickly, lip being tugged between your teeth subtly as you put yourself over his lap.

“Eris?” You ask softly, hands starting properly on his broad shoulders, before relaxing into his touch, palms sliding down his front to the hem of his trousers.

“Why did you keep this from me?” He asks, raising the toy to pull your attention to it, keeping his gaze on you.

“I forgot about it,” you answer quietly, trying to hold still in his lap, not wanting to give him further reason to…whatever he has planned.

“Mhmm,” he hums, and your breath catches as his hands settle over your thighs, fingers gradually pulling up the fabric of your dress.

“And when was the last time you used this?” He muses, continuing to move your clothing out of the way.

“Uh…I don’t…I can’t remember…” you mumble, trailing off as his fingers dip beneath the band of your underwear, snapping it against your abdomen in reprimand.

“When was the last time?” He goads, free hand settling over your hip, holding the material up and out of the way.

“I…when you went away,” you answer breathlessly as he pulls your underwear back. “Two months ago…”

Eris hums, thumb stroking over the bare skin of your hip. “Better,” he says, “but you shouldn’t have hidden this, fawn.”

Your hips wind over him, grinding down as that arousal spools between your thighs.

“Eris…please…” you breathe, gazing at him.

“Please what?” He asks, pushing the toy to your clit, having you inhale shakily.

“More…” you ask, fingers pressing into his chest, feeling his heat beneath your touch.

“More?” He repeats, the edge of his mouth sharpening. “You sure about that?”

You nod, gasping when he holds the button down, and you fall against his chest, arms sliding over his shoulders as your thighs part further.

His hands splay against your waist, one brushing between your shoulder blades, holding you close.

“Remember you started this,” he whispers beside your ear, as you wind over his lap. “I’ll decide when to finish it.”

Lucien:

“Lucien…what are you doing?” You ask, coming back to find him sat in his chair by the window that overlooks the garden, book open in his lap, holding the whirring toy to the muscle at the back of his shoulders.

“Hm? This?” He asks, smirking as he holds the toy up. “Isn’t this what it’s for?”

“I…” you fumble, unsure how to reply. You swallow thickly, before holding up the basket of food you’d gotten from the market. “I’m going to put these away,” you excuse, hurriedly moving to the kitchen to unload.

He hums, chuckling as you flee to safer space, setting the basket on the table as you begin sorting your supplies into groups: jams, pastries, drinks, until you get down to the vegetables.

And realise how quiet he’s gone.

“Good haul,” Lucien murmurs beside your ear, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling your back to his chest. “Good timing too. I was getting hungry.”

You inhale sharply when he nips at your throat, licking at the length of your throat.

“Lu…” you breathe, heat warming your skin out of habit at the proximity of your mate.

“Hmm?” He muses, chest pressing into your back, bending you over the counter. “What is it?”

“Lu…” you murmur breathlessly, “what are you doing?”

He noses at the space below your jaw, shifting closer to your side as his hand rests at the top of your spine, keeping you bent over as he pulls your skirts up.

“You’ve kept this hidden from me, hm?” He asks quietly, a smug note in his voice as his hand slips between your thighs, pulling your clothing up so it settles at the curve of your back.

“I didn’t intend to…” you murmur, heat flushing your skin beneath his touch. “You’d be mean with it, anyway.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about,” he laughs lowly, “I think I’m lovely to you.”

“Only when it suits you,” you whine, legs parting a little wider as he holds the toy gently to your clit.

“And it’ll suit me very well to be good to you now,” he muses, and you hear the click of the button as he holds it down. “If you’ll be good for me, too.”

“I’ll be good,” you breathe, thighs trembling as the vibrations wash against your clit, sending heat melting through your body. “Just…please, Lu… No teasing.”

“No teasing?” He repeats, chuckling, clicking the button again to increase the intensity of the whirring. A moan is pulled from your lips, head dipping, pressing your face into the crook of your elbow as you pant breathlessly.

He hums, pressing a hot kiss to your throat. “Alright. No teasing.”

You sigh with relief, but then he’s pulling away, kneeling behind you while keeping the toy buzzing against your clit. “But I’m still hungry, Princess.”

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