#dark!rhys x reader smut

[tadpolesonalgae]

Two-Faced[***]

Dark!Rhys x reader

a/n: Honestly I’ve tried to edit this so many times I can no longer tell if I like it or not? Also this is a prequel to Desk Pet and goes along with that universe but can be read on its own 🧡💛

warnings: non-con, shadow play(?), bdsm themes, suggested breeding kink, smut, overstimulation, somnophilia, suggested dacryphilia(?), a little peak into Rhys’ mind at the end

word count: 8,875

-Desk Pet- -Play-Mate-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

You glance into the mirror, readjusting how the thin golden chain hangs around your neck, the small pendant sitting pretty between your breasts.

Easing in a deep breath, you check everything else is appropriately placed, nothing revealing too much skin, no fabric dipping where it shouldn’t, everything neatly wrapped up. You could swear you can see how your heart pulses in your chest in the reflection, a slight shudder passing beneath your flesh as you think ahead to what might unfold.

The deep purple gown settles comfortably over your body, dark and velvety, the neckline modest without being conservative, the hem of the skirts brushing just shy of your feet, sleeves that run down to your wrists, locked in matching golden chains, slim and elegant. Your lips are painted darker than usual to match the purple of your dress, with small golden pins keeping some strands of hair in place. Is it too much?

Dining with a High Lord… Even if you’re friendly, you don’t want to suggest something you can’t give, nor flirt where you can’t fulfil.

In the recent months, you know you haven’t been imagining the intensity in his eyes, how they sweep so deliciously over you, slowly, under the guise of polite appreciation. But there’s nothing polite about the way he looks at you. How it sets your skin on fire, pulse spiking with the slightest curve of his mouth. How your breath hitches whenever his skin brushes yours, fingers grazing your waist to guide you someplace—gentle dominance that makes your body flush with heat. Even at the faintest hint of his scent, you’d found yourself seeking out his gaze, as if sharing in a forbidden fantasy together.

Maybe it’s your fault for letting it get too far. Letting it escalate without consideration for how high he might truly be able to take you. He certainly isn’t the only male in your life. You hadn’t even realised how far things had gone with Rhys until the male you’d been seeing casually had brought it up, and you’d felt a tug of guilt in your gut. The two of you weren’t together exactly, but it definitely wasn’t just sex. There was too much emotional intimacy for it to be such a black-and-white situation. Emotions bleeding over where they should have been kept in line.

A triptych of knocks are landed to your door, gentle but firm, and you tear your gaze away from your reflection—attractive as it is, you shouldn’t keep him waiting.

Easing in a breath, you open the door, pulse spiking as you take him in, raising your chin to meet his violet gaze.

On the wooden deck of your house, stood beneath the warm faelight to illuminate the entranceway, he dominates the space, your attention zeroing in on his figure, dressed immaculately as usual, shirt revealing a peak at the appetisingly tan skin beneath, a suggestion of ink peering over the hem of the linen.

“Rhysand,” you greet with a smile, opening the door wider, previous worries forgotten as he takes up your attention whole. “Rhysand?” He drawls, brow quirking in amusement as he leans forward, and you step into his invitation. “Have I done something to irritate you?” He muses beside your ear, bodies pressed a little closer than appropriate as your arms wrap over his shoulders. His palm splays between your shoulder blades, pressing you deeper into his sturdy heat, spine arching under his direction. “You show up dressed as you are—I thought you said this was a casual dinner,” you smile as you pull away, arms still wrapped around one another.

Violet eyes sweep across your features, the skin between your shoulder-blades tingling beneath his broad palm, and that intensity burns down into you. “You look like this for casual dinners?” He replies, lips curving with amusement. “I look like this for my High Lord,” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully, stepping out of his hold, already missing his heat. “Will you tell me where we’re going to dine? Or are you going to insist on keeping it a secret until the last second?”

“The last second might be a bit of a stretch,” he chuckles, offering you his arm, “but I know how you like surprises, so perhaps arrangements can be made.”

“You could winnow us there with ease,” you muse lightly, linking your arm with his, door closing at your back as he guides you down the steps leading into your front garden, then out into the street.

Violet eyes flick over you, your skin tightening beneath his open attention, meeting his gaze. “A lady deserves preparation,” he replies, heat fluttering in your lower abdomen at the sonorous drawl. “I’m sure you’d still succeed with the surprise element regardless,” you laugh, lips warm from the smile. “I suppose I could always blindfold you?” He suggests, and you gently elbow him, rolling your eyes again, trying to quell the traitorous heat that’s unspooling in the pit of your stomach. “I’d trip up and break something,” you counter fondly, swiftly averting you gaze so he won’t be able to somehow read your emotions. The attraction that always seems to become much more prominent in his presence. More pertinent, and palpable.

“I could direct you,” he replies lightly, a curve to his soft mouth, “I like to think I’m fairly good at giving instructions.”

“You’re practiced at giving orders. There’s a difference,” you counter, unable to help the smile on your lips—that’s undoubtedly shining in your eyes. “Besides, I don’t trust myself in heels.”

“You certainly picked a tricky pair,” he admits, glancing down to the thin golden strings wrapped around your ankles, disappearing beneath your dress. “I’m sure I’ll be regretting that by the end of the night,” you sigh, taking care to avoid any uneven surfaces. “If you need a reprieve, feel free to say,” he chuckles lowly, guiding you down another street, and you silently admire how seamlessly he blends in with the inky darkness of his court. “I’d be more than happy to sweep you off your feet, if needed.”

————

You’d been surprised when he’d taken you not to a pre-established restaurant but to a house he’d recently purchased by the riverside—for ample view of the Sidra, he’d explained, when you’d asked why he’d picked that part of the city.

He’d guided you in, as he usually does when you’re out together, a hand kept lightly against your lower back to keep you steady, especially when passing over cobbles. You’d noticed how his touch had smoothly migrated from lightly brushing against your skin on the way into the house, to settling securely around your waist once away from the public, a response of equal parts concern and satisfaction humming in your chest. It’s hard to keep your head when he singles you out so obviously—like there’s something special about you in particular. Something he can only find in you. How are you supposed to resist a male who makes you feel so treasured?

“You certainly succeeded with surprising me,” you smile, leaning back in your chair, content with the meal—mansaf, with goat’s meat. “I didn’t know you could cook like that?” You muse, meeting his gaze across the cozy table, tucked away in an alcove on the library he’s slowly filling up, tall windows to your right, providing a clear view of the Sidra, rooftops shadowed under the night’s sky. His smile isn’t as full as you’d hoped, instead seeming quieter than usual. “I don’t have much time to indulge anymore,” he answers, and you straighten in your seat. “It would be nice, to pursue my own interests. From time to time.”

Your expression softens as you watch him from across the table—he makes it easy to forget the things he’s withstood. It’s easy to speak with him, to be around him.

“I appreciate you finding the time to do so tonight,” you say quietly, briefly glancing down at your empty plate before returning your gaze to his. “It was delicious.” His eyes twinkle, and a small smile makes its way onto your mouth at the familiar gleam. “I’m glad you thought so,” he admits, “it’s been a while.”

“If this is how you are out of practice, it might be for the better you don’t have more time on your hands. You’d run people out of business,” you say quietly.

There’s a pause that passes between you, and you feel yourself being pulled in, already so thoroughly snared by his riptides you haven’t noticed you’ve been pulled under.

“I know it isn’t much,” you say lowly, a little roughly, pushing up from your seat to walk to his side. “But you deserve the time to indulge in your own interests, Rhys. To be able to enjoy life like the people you devote yourself to protecting do.” Violet eyes lift to yours, swirling and depthless, pulling you further down. “You’ve mentioned what that time was like,” you manage quietly, voice thick with emotion, at all he’s sacrificed to keep Velaris safe. To keep his people safe. “I can’t even imagine what it was like,” you murmur, hand resting gently on his shoulder, hoping you aren’t overstepping.

It isn’t often he talks about what had been done to him, what he’d been forced to do, but when he does…you listen. Take in every word, let him know you hear him, at the very least. That he has someone he can share his life with, someone he can come to when he’s alone, and know you’ll be there.

“You’re out now,” you whisper, “you made it.”

“I’m in pieces,” he murmurs, expression neutral despite the sadness of the admission.

“It’s okay to be in pieces, Rhys,” you reply, stepping into him when he shifts to face you, his hand coming to rest atop your own, fingers dancing to your wrist, wrapping over your forearm carefully. As if afraid to break you, too. “You’re allowed to grieve yourself, after what happened.”

His fingers tighten a little around your wrist, then he’s smoothly standing from his chair, though you don’t step back, keeping together as his hand slowly settles on your waist.

“I don’t think…” he trails off, voice breathy and hushed, and you hold him a little tighter, free palm settling on his upper arm. His throat rolls, and he pulls you the barest bit closer, bodies connecting as heat is shared and swapped, scents pushing together. “I don’t think I’m the same as I was before,” he admits quietly, violet eyes pinning you to the floor, touch pressing into your skin. “That’s okay,” you whisper, “time changes people. It’s okay to shift in essence.”

“No. Not like that,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your own, your hand brushing against his jaw, his palms wrapping tighter around you, growing more assured in their hold, like you’re becoming a part of him. “I can’t stand it,” he admits, brow pressing to your own, his eyes shut, a troubled expression on his beautiful features. “I can’t stand it anymore.”

You peer up at him, now cupping his face in both your hands, leaning into him. “What is it?” You ask softly, “you can tell me. I want to know what’s troubling you.” Violet eyes open slightly, darkened by his lashes as he looks down at you, brows furrowed in what looks like indecision. Or regret. But then it’s gone in a flash, easing out into something more calm, and familiar. “I want to be happy,” he confesses quietly, words brushing over your mouth so tenderly. “I don’t want to be alone again. How I was.”

“You aren’t alone,” you murmur, thumb brushing his cheek. “You have your family, you’re back with them again—you’re back here again. You survived.” But he shakes his head, and you push slightly closer, letting him know whatever he wants, he can confess to you. You’ll be there for him if he needs.

“I can’t stand not having it anymore,” he breathes, hold tightening on you, voice deeper, rougher, than before. “I should be happy, shouldn’t I?”

Your brows pull together, curving as you nod, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, slotting yourself into the familiar lines of his body. “Everyone deserves to be happy,” you whisper, heart aching, “even if they don’t believe so.” You swallow, feeling hot beneath his gaze, but refusing to step away, not when this is the most vulnerable he’s ever allowed himself to be with you. “If you…” you swallow again, eyes darting away briefly before returning to his. “If you know what you want…” You trail off, bewitched by the swirling intensity of his gaze. Your breath catches, aware of how close you are, how intimate the embrace has become. “…you should have it, Rhys.”

He exhales heavily, relief loosening the tension in his body, then he’s leaning forward, mouth opening over yours.

You freeze, not having expected the bold action, but quickly melt beneath his touch, all previous thought fading to nothing as his lips slant over yours, soft and hot, and his hands are moving across the planes of your body, strengthening as you’re pulled impossibly closer. He’s a really good kisser.

His tongue flicks out, and you start, reeling from his pace, but he’s gently turning you around, mouth still sealed against your own as he pushes you into the wall, hips against your own while his arm wraps tight around your waist, other hand settling over the nape of your neck that’s so small in comparison. Your palms stutter as they shift, unsure where to place them, having been swept off your feet, caught with your guard down. You hadn’t realised just how intense the attraction had become—for either of you.

Rhys makes a hungry sound from the back of his throat, and your insides flutter, spine arching into him, breasts pressing fully against his chest—but you need to slow down. You hadn’t planned on any of this unfolding so rapidly, had intended to be wary of his advances, of the mutual lust binding you together. It’s dominating; overpowering, mind-warping to struggle against, but you have enough sense to know acting on this desire will only confuse things. Mixing tender affection with the sharpened blades of lust never ends well.

“Rhys,” you murmur, pulling away enough to get his name out, but his mouth seals over your own again, and you fight to not be dragged under by hunger, by your desire to follow in his motions. This isn’t something you can rush, if you want it to work. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging him back firmly, heat warming your cheeks. “Rhys, we—”

His hands leave your body, roughly gripping your wrists and shoving them back against the wall, hips keeping you pinned in place as he devours you, prying your mouth open with embarrassing ease, arousal making it hard to resist. His tongue stokes over your own, and a heady feeling rushes your veins, need pounding in your blood, losing grip fast as he sinks his claws into you.

Rhys pulls away from you, and you open your mouth to tell him to stop, but he’s dipping lower, attacking your neck as his canines flash, the kisses rapidly descending into untamed bites and claiming slashes of teeth against soft, unmarked skin. You gasp as he bites, putting his mark into your body, startled by your own enjoyment, how arousal is swiftly rising to meet him, as much as you’re trying to pull away. “Rhys…” you pant, struggling half-heartedly beneath his touch, enjoying how his strength dominates you, a display of power so brutal and fundamental something warms in your chest.

He releases your wrists in favour of roughly gripping your skirts, almost tearing them as they’re shoved up your thighs, making way for him as he grips you tight, hoisting you up so your legs wrap around his hips—allowing him to press against your centre, purple fabric pooled around your waist. Instinctively your arms fly over his shoulders, and then his mouth is reclaiming your own, a flashing frenzy of tongue and teeth that knocks you clean off your feet, heart pounding from the assault on your senses, the ticklish pleasure still tingling across the erogenous skin at your throat.

Your fingers shakily tangle in his hair, and he snarls into the kiss, canines scraping over your lower lip before crushing back against your mouth, the damper on his power waring thinner, and thinner, pressure straining on your bones as you tremble. He’s never come this close to removing it completely around you, and it’s terrifying, your heart pounding in your chest, pulse spiking as you begin to get an understanding of what kind of beast you’ve been taunting.

“Rhys!” You gasp as his hand palms over your breast, grinding between your thighs as he again dips down to your throat, feeling your heightened pulse beneath his teeth. Tongue darting out to taste you.

Your hands stutter over him, torn between trying to pull him away and to tug him closer, to take more of him, startled by the ferocious hunger he’s subjecting you to, and the starvation it’s bringing forth in your own body.

His fingers effortlessly slide beneath your dress, but when they brush the golden string that’s clinging to your right hip, it’s like a bucket of icy water has been speared into your bloodstream. Your palms slam down against his shoulders, leveraging yourself against the wall as you shove at him enough to push him away by an inch or two, allowing your legs to unlock from his hips, standing on your own shaky feet again, nearly collapsing thanks to the sharply-angled heels.

“Rhys, stop,” you demand breathlessly, hands flat against his powerful chest, able to feel how his magic thrums dangerously around you, beating in time with his pulse in deadly waves. “Slow down,” you breathe, gazing up into intensely dark violet, practically plunging into icy indigo, his features turning glacial as he looks down at you, caged in, your cheeks warmed from arousal. He steps closer, crowding your space, and you tense up, abruptly aware of how that lethal strength could just as easily be used against you rather than with you.

“What is it?” He drawls, the tone having hairs rising on the back of your neck in warning, a long lost sense rising from the recesses of your mind to scream its horror at the creature before you, steadily emerging from beautifully carved skin. “I…Rhys, I’m not sure about this,” you answer honestly, hands trembling over his chest, trying to even out your breaths. “I’m sorry,” you fumble, “it’s all happening so quickly—I didn’t expect anything to happen tonight.”

“Is that why you’re wearing these?” He asks lowly, and you stiffen as his fingers brush over your hip, now covered again by your dress, but you know he’s talking about your underwear, how it matches the gold of your jewellery, complimenting the regal purple of your gown.

“I—…that was for me,” you mumble, flushing, shying away from the pressure within his gaze, how his attention crushes down upon you. “So I’d feel more confident around you.”

“Confident?” He remarks lowly, roughly, the slow drag of the word tingling down your spine. “So you always wear something matching whenever you feel unsure?” You falter, glancing away, hands lowering a little but remaining against him, anxious to keep him at bay for the moment. “I’m sorry if I misled you,” you manage, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But I…if you’re only after sex, I can’t give you that.”

“You’d give more?” He asks breathlessly, pushing closer despite how you try to keep him away. “With someone else, I could manage a one-time thing,” you whisper, “but with you…”

A deep noise rumbles in his chest, male satisfaction resounding through you as your insides flutter, his hands coming to brace themselves on the wall, either side of your hips as he leans down, mere inches separating you. “You want something serious?” He asks quietly, roughly, and you nod, tilting your head to better see him.

His lips curve at the edges, pleased with your reply. “Then come with me,” he murmurs beside your ear, and your breaths stutter as his arousal wraps around you, stark and heady. His hand wraps around your wrist, making to take you elsewhere, but you pull against his hold. “I need you to slow down,” you manage firmly, getting stable footing on the ground—relatively stable, anyway.

“You were so eager a second ago,” he muses, the sonorous drawl returning, his eyes dark and deadly, able to scent your own arousal by now. He doesn’t release your wrist. “I’m allowed to change my mind,” you say firmly, lightly trying to pull away but to no avail. Either he doesn’t get the hint, or…you swallow thickly.

Violet eyes glint, a curve tilting the edges of his mouth. “And what have you changed your mind to?” He asks smoothly, as if indulging a child’s whim.

“I think a lot has happened tonight, and I want to go home and sleep on it,” you say, aware of how his touch is making your skin tingle. A strange weariness creeping over you, eyelids beginning to weigh as the adrenaline wares off.

A sadness flickers in his violet eyes, before it’s vanished, and he shakes his head. “I can’t stand it a moment longer,” he breathes, firmly pulling you into his body, knowing you’re unable to resist. His palm settles on your lower back, and you press your own hand to his chest in protest. “Rhys. Stop messing around,” you say, peering up at him, meeting hungry, dark eyes. “This isn’t funny. Let me go.”

“Lovely, little lamb,” he breathes, angling you so he can peer down at you, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing intrusively into your middle. “You think I would joke when it comes to you?” He asks gently, violet eyes sweeping over you, and you shrink away, the ravenous lust making your legs feel weak. “I can hardly breathe right around you,” he whispers, “I ache for you. To feel you. To touch you. Don’t deny me for a second longer.”

Your lips part in shock, unable to formulate a response, and his eyes glint with approval, before he’s turning, forcefully dragging you from the room, hand shackled around your wrist as you try to struggle against him, to rip yourself from his hold, but he refuses to budge. You might as well be fighting against iron for how much give he allows.

“Rhys,” you call sharply, tugging away. “Rhysand!” You try grabbing onto a banister, but he’s too strong, and your hold slips away, heels practically clawing lines into the floorboards as you try to lean against him, to counterweight his force—to no avail. “Rhys let me go,” you bark, surging forward abruptly in attempt to knock into him, but he’s been trained as a warrior since birth, and has no difficulty in remaining stable.

“Stop struggling,” he demands lowly, piercing violet pinning you to the floor, and you’re utterly helpless as he effortlessly puts you over his shoulder, sweeping you off your feet with devastating ease. You start kicking, slamming your fists against his back, aiming either side of his spine as you scream at him to put you down, trying to dig your nails into his skin, to rip through his clothes to scratch and slice at him.

You recoil into yourself when his palm connects with your hind, body going taut as you freeze, horror and terror paralysing you, and he chuckles lowly. “Like that?” He asks, voice deeper, and your stomach drops when he reaches a bedroom, able to watch as the door clicks shut.

“Rhys,” you whisper, fear pounding through your veins. “Rhys, put me down.”

Panic roils in your gut as you’re roughly thrown down from his shoulder, knees pressing together as you land on the softness of his mattress, crisp sheets rustling as you try to squirm away from him, pushing further up the bed. “Rhys— Rhys listen to me,” you try, but he ignores you, looming like a nightmare as he grips your ankle, dragging you back toward him.

“Relax,” he muses, fingers biting into your skin as he pushes the deep purple of your dress higher, until you’re certain he’ll be able to see the gold material clinging between your thighs, presented with a perfect view between your legs. “You’ll feel good. You know you’ll feel good.”

“Rhys, fuck off!” You bark, voice shaking with terror, pressure building behind your eyes. “You can’t fucking do this. Just because she did it to you doesn’t mean you have the right to inflict it on other people.”

He snarls lowly at that, pinning you down in an instant, easily slotting between your thighs, his powerful body keeping you where he wants with ease. “I thought you cared, huh? I thought you were eager to be with me. What happened to that, hm?”

“You’re sick, Rhys,” you hiss, “this is sick. You’re fucking insane.”

“It’s okay to be a little insane,” he drawls, mimicking your earlier words of comfort, given in attempts to help him, but in doing so dooming yourself. “It’s more than a little,” you hiss, teeth flashing as you try to kick him off you, but he’s pressing himself flush between your thighs, leaving you without a hope in hell.

“I deserve to be happy, don’t I?” He murmurs so softly over your mouth, and in any other context your heart would have broken at the question—that he would even have to ask. But, “not at my expense, Rhys,” you hiss, heat warming behind your eyes. “Not at our expense.”

“I’m not sacrificing us,” he counters quietly, hand coming up to grip your jaw. “I’m joining us together.” He rolls his hips against yours, feeling him against your sex, how the pressure grinds over your clit, deliciously traitorous heat gathering in response, and you’re utterly helpless as his lips curve into a slight grin, sadism gleaming from deep within his violent gaze.

“I don’t want to join with you,” you spit back, trying to push him away, but darkness gathers on his bed, keeping your wrists bound to the mattress as he lowers his mouth to your throat, kissing and biting his way down your skin, painting a pathway of bruises while his hands glide up your thighs, catching beneath the material of your dress. His lips brush the hem of its neckline, and then he’s smoothly pulling it away, leaving you practically bare.

Your High Lord pulls back, tan skin flushed, pupils dilated with dizzying hunger as he gazes down at his prey, the golden fabric clinging to your hips as you squirm, ankles wrapped in that gilded string, keeping your heels in place, the elegant little chains decorating your wrists, settling around your throat. He groans lowly, rough palms splaying over your waist, resting there gently as he rolls his hips against you, into you, taking his time pulling you apart. Savouring your struggle.

“You were desperate for it minutes ago,” he drawls lowly, right palm raising over your stomach, the pads of his fingers brushing with a feather-light touch upward, starting from your lower abdomen, gliding slowly to your sternum, pleased to feel how your breath hitches beneath his touch. “You’ll be desperate again soon enough.”

“Go to hell, Rhys,” you manage, lip curling back to showcase sharp canines—a set he’d gladly allow to pierce his skin. The only set he’d allow to mark him ever again. “This isn’t fucking okay.”

“No, it isn’t,” he breathes, and your throat rolls heavily as his fingers begin the slow, torturous descent back down your body, trailing over your abdomen, stroking down over the golden fabric, running lightly over your centre. “It’s better.”

Heat flushes your skin as his rough palms grip the underside of your thighs, just above your knees, raising your legs up and out of the way, pressing them close to your torso so he has more room. Callouses drag against your skin, a reminder of his strength, the warrior that’s concealed beneath his finely tailored exterior. He is the embodiment of power.

“Rhys, stop,” you breathe as he settles at the edge of the bed, violet eyes hungrily licking over your clothed sex. You squirm, trying to shift your hips, but his lips brush over your abdomen, and then his teeth are clasping the band of your underwear. He gazes up at you intently, slowly dragging it back—tauntingly; teasingly—until he releases it to snap back against your skin.

“Rhys…” you murmur shakily, the understanding finally beginning to dawn across you that he might go through with it. “Rhys, please. You’re better than this.” Violet gleams with ravenous hunger, dark and starved, and he presses forward, mouth a breath’s width from your sex. “Shall I show you how much better I can be?”

You swallow thickly beneath that look, but manage to nod your head. If you can just get him to pull away, to remove the bonds of your wrists…

Your lips part in a sharp gasp, writhing beneath him as he presses his face between your legs, violet eyes closing as he takes in his own heaven, submerging himself in your scent, your heat. You try to buck away from him, to get further from his mouth, but it only serves to make you more aware of how he’s invading, though his grip has lessened on your thighs.

He exhales heavily, contentedly, shifting between your legs and your muscles coil tense, nails piercing your palms as his nose brushes against… Your toes curl, thighs trying to press together, to ward him away, but he keeps you spread apart effortlessly.

Eventually he pulls back, violet eyes glued to your clothed sex as his fingers hook in the golden strings lacing over your hips, slowly pulling them away. His gaze practically glows, pupils dilating as he peels away the wet material, shame and humiliation burning hot in your gut. Eyes flick up to you, and you force yourself to meet them, to not yield and look away—to not admit defeat. “You’re wet,” he breathes lowly, roughly, depthless hunger swirling in the pits of his pupils. “That means nothing,” you hiss, trying to writhe away from him, fearing what practices his mind will conjure. “I think it means quite a lot more than that, darling,” he breathes, pulling your underwear away completely, then pressing it back to your heat.

You inhale sharply as his fingers run up over you, slow but firm strokes, circling your entrance through the golden fabric, and your pulse spikes. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing now?” You snap, voice shaking with fear, darkness now banding around beneath your knees to keep them apart as he stands, peeling your underwear away. Embarrassment flushes your skin when you catch their gleam, how thoroughly soaked they are.

Rhys’s cruel mouth curves, and you writhe on his bed, trying to turn away as he pushes the wet material between your lips, long fingers prying them apart. Your tongue recoils, trying to pull away, but his grin widens, a pleasured sound coming from deep within his chest as he feels you struggle. “Do you taste good?” He asks lowly, fingers stroking over your tongue, “like having that in your mouth? I bet you’re only getting wetter by the second,” he breathes, pupils fully dilated.

You release a sound that should be disgusted, but comes out as more of a whimper. His breath catches at the noise, able to see how his cock is straining against his trousers but he leaves himself unattended—for now.

He returns between your legs, and a noise between a whimper and a snarl rips from your throat, heat flaring across your skin as he licks up your centre, broad palms keeping your thighs absolutely open for him to indulge.

“Rhys,” you panic, feeling pressure build behind your eyes, managing to spit out the fabric that had been gagging you. “Rhys please. Please stop. We can— We can figure something out—”

His tongue swipes over your clit, making you jolt and squirm, trying desperately to thrash against his hold but it’s like being chained up, his grip stricter than iron as he applies himself, suckling at the impossibly sensitive part effortlessly, as if he’s familiar with how your body works. As if he knows already exactly where to touch, suck, and fuck to have you drooling dumb.

Breaths pant from your lips, hips wiggling as one hand trails down your thigh, and you know exactly what he’s planning to do with those long, dexterous fingers of his…exactly how they’ll feel inside of you, how they’ll know where to push and rub at to have you dripping onto his knuckles.

“You want me to stop?” He breathes lowly, roughly, thumbing at your entrance, liking how you tighten around nothing as if eager to invite him in. “You know I could make you feel like an immortal,” he growls, mouth prone to attach your clit with his tongue and teeth should you try to rebuke him. “I could take you higher…further than anyone’s ever taken you before.”

“I don’t fucking want it,” you hiss, lip curled as heat wets your eyes, trying to blink away the hot tears in favour of sending him a look of pure hatred.

Rhys blinks his violet eyes, then smiles, pulling away.

“Give me five minutes?” He muses lowly, a starving glint in his gaze, darkened and scheming. You snarl, then inhale sharply when the darkness releases you, completely freeing you. Immediately you sit upright, pulling your legs together, but refusing to cower before him—keeping your hands at your sides, gripping the sheets to prevent yourself from recoiling physically.

“You don’t deserve a single second of my time,” you spit, blinking away the tears as you snarl. “I regret how much I’ve already spent on you.”

“Not even a single second?” He laughs, hands sliding calmly into the pockets of his finely tailored trouser, perfectly encapsulating the raw power contained within his body. “I’m not sure if I can take you there in an instant without hurting you somewhere,” he drawls almost apologetically, but his violet eyes spark. “But if that’s all you’ll give me…” he murmurs, softer than a breath.

Your breathing pattern spikes, heat flushing intently beneath his gaze. Talons swiftly enter your mind, and you’re utterly helpless as your body starts to tremble, terrifying heat swelling with such ferocity your vision goes tilted, muscles feeling like custard as you fall back into the bed. Your spine arches on its own, toes curling eyes squeezing shut as he plies the orgasm from your body, easing out your pleasure while he stands at the foot of the bed, idly licking at the pad of his thumb that had prodded against your entrance.

Your lips part as it intensifies, and you scramble, thrashing in the bed, a choked noise erupting from your chest as you feel the high in your entire body, like there are hands touching, feeling all across your body, tongues lapping over your nipples, sets of teeth biting at your throat, lips sealing over your clit as fingers pump and curl inside of you.

The scream rises swiftly, limbs trembling violently as sweat is forced through your skin from the abrupt intensity, the orgasm absolutely devastating as you lose all control of yourself, moaning unabashedly as those feelings are drawn out—as Rhysand draws them out. His fingers the ones inside of you, his teeth piercing your skin, his tongue circling your clit.

“Do you want it to stop,” he muses, unable to help licking his lips at the obscene sight before him, the scent of it filtrating into his blood, rushing straight to his cock, hot and heavy between his legs.

The words jumble and melt across your mind, splashing like melted butter into your head, and struggle—for what? For more? For more.

He chuckles lowly, and you scream as he forces you through a second one, having it break like the surf across jagged rocks, arousal dripping down your thighs, webbing between your legs as you try to press them together only for the darkness to spread you apart. Definitely more than wet enough to fill a shot glass or two.

You pant heavily. Ragged, gasping breaths as wild heat ravishes your skin, pleasure bursting at the seams of your body, a perfectly ripe fruit dripping with flavour, ready to break beneath the slightest pressure from a set of sharp, piercing canines the second they graze your skin. And Rhysand is more than happy to bite.

Your eyes are squeezed shut tight, so you can only feel the mattress dip as he prowls up onto the bed, pinning you down, caging you effortlessly between his powerful, ruining arms.

The High Lord allows your orgasm to wash away slowly, bringing you back to the plane of reality he’s on, your skin hot and dewy from the intense pleasure he’s forced you full of. Your lids flutter, eyes struggling to lock onto his as violet pierces into you, doing nothing to hide the deep-rooted hunger that’s tearing him apart. He moves lazily, with the leisure one can move with when they’re in no rush, yet you can sense that undercurrent, the riptide within him that you’ve been caught in, at last dawning on you. The only other tell aside from his actions and confessions, is the strain in his jaw, wound tight as he gazes down at you, eyes so dark they’re closer to being entirely black as shadow and darkness writhes around you in a great, slithering mass, tangling with you on the bed.

“I think you’re more than ready now,” he whispers, the words dragging like gravel across bare, sensitive skin. “Are you ready?”

Tears spill down your cheeks, so turned around you feel entirely out of control. All you can remember is the sizzling burn of pleasure, the electrifying tingle of heat as it sears through your thighs, making your body feel weightless, like you’re above the clouds and bathing in starlight…starlight that’s hot and wet, that trickles down the naked planes of your body…that slips and slides where your fingers drag through it…that tastes like power and possession…laced through with iridescent violet…

A rough laugh drags from the High Lord’s throat, sensing your pleasure-induced daze, facing not even an ounce of resistance as he gently flips you over on the bed, the side of your face pressing into the soft fullness of one of the pillows, saliva pooling inside your cheek, drooling out onto the cotton as he pushes your thighs apart.

He curses lowly, eyeing the mess between your thighs, wanting more than anything to pull you to the edge of his bed, or flip you around again so you’re spread out on top of him, suspended in the air for him to play with and touch. So he can kiss, lick, bite wherever on your body he likes, so he can press his face between your legs, so he can take his time learning the pace you most like his tongue circling your clit, the pressure to apply that will most swiftly lead you to orgasm, the spots inside of you he should rub against if he wants you to soak him.

But he doesn’t. He’s waited too long.

Besides, after tonight, he can do whatever he pleases; you’ll be his. If he wants to dangle you from the ceiling while exploring your skin, if he wants to bind you to his bed while he kisses up your thighs, if he wants to seat you in his lap while he strokes his tongue against your own…he can. The thought has him growling lowly, dark power writhing beneath his skin, aching to manifest with talons and large, spanning wings, to allow proper canines to slide from his upper lip and his skin to become dark and leathery; to yield to his baser side.

You make a soft sound in the back of your throat, confused but aroused, and his cock twitches between his legs in response. Trailing a hand up the path of your spine, darkness gathers your wrists in a light coil, bringing them to cross at your back, and he swallows thickly at the imagery. Unable to entirely help himself, having only ever witnessed these events within fantasy, the darkness wraps itself also beneath your shins, raising them from the bed until your calves are pressing to the backs of your thighs, legs bent at the knee.

Breathing deeply, he pulls himself free, noting the slight tremors that run through your body, shuddering lightly from the aftershocks of pleasure, trembling beneath the beast who’s got you at his mercy. So out of it you can hardly understand what’s happening, reduced to a panting, drooling mess. A groan of pleasure rasps from his chest, guiding his tip to your entrance, and slowly…slowly easing in.

Your breaths stutter, small noises whimpering from your lips as your lids flutter with confusion, and he applies a light pressure to the base of your spine, having you curve lightly beneath him as he goes in…and in…and in. His breath fans against the nape of your neck, lips skimming the shell of your ear, and tears spill from your eyes, unable to help as you cry, unable to understand why after having had your mind so thoroughly toyed with.

Rhysand shifts, his forearm banding beneath your stomach to raise you up onto shaky knees, legs still bound while your face presses into the pillow, allowing him to press the entirety of himself inside, his hips meeting the backs of your thighs, at last finding home for that last inch he couldn’t fit into you when you were on your front. You whimper at the stretch, the fullness, the strange pleasure from having no space left inside of you. His lips press to the bare skin of the top of your shoulder, skimming the thin golden chain that remains loosely around your throat.

“So good,” he whispers beside you ear, voice shuddering as he presses his face to the crook of your shoulder, inhaling the thickness of your scent—he could come from that alone, from how you’re squeezing him, the pliancy of your body. “I knew you’d fit me perfectly, and feel how right I was.”

He shifts his weight, and your toes curl lightly, squirming beneath the pleasure, and Rhys can sense it will be a struggle to move, to gather the energy to bring a greater pleasure to both of you. It feels so good as it is, he almost doesn’t want to move, to simply bask in the wet heat of your cunt, the lost familiarity of your scent, the way your body slots so perfectly beneath his own.

You’re struggling internally, grappling for consciousness but overwhelmed by the pleasure he’s forcing into you. You can feel everything that’s happening, feel every thick inch of him that he’s pushed into you, yet can hardly even lift a finger to stop it, tears growing larger as they quietly wet the cotton of the pillow.

“Gods, you were fucking made for me,” he breathes roughly, sounding almost pained as he hoarsely whispers the confession of thought, and it has enough disgust gathering in the pit of your stomach to push you to the forefront of your mind, resurfacing and gasping for breath as you tense, awareness coursing through your blood, suddenly so acutely aware of every place you’re pressed together, every intimate touch of bare skin, and you try to recoil, to squirm away from him.

“Rhys get off me,” you hiss lowly, crying harder as you try to free yourself, but his shadows hold tight, keeping your wrapped up beneath him, physically unable to push him away or to claw at him as you would like to. Your cheek presses into the pillow, neck straining from the uncomfortable angle, the weight being pushed onto your shoulders from the position, and your gaze meets with dominating, depthless violet. You try to thrash, try to writhe away, but you can manage little more than a shift of your hips with the way he’s holding you.

“Aware again?” He murmurs softly, holding you a little tighter, pulling his hips back by a few inches, just to let you really feel as he presses back inside, cock touching against a sensitive spot that has a quiet sob escaping from your throat. “You were enjoying it so much,” he whispers cruelly, like a malevolent spirit urging you toward evil, silently goading and encouraging you away from the good, and instead forward into the bad. “Relax,” he muses besides your ear, your spine unwillingly arching as a shiver ghosts up your back.

Words of hate, of fury and disgust sit ready on your tongue, but he pulls his hips back again, and the breath you take is one you would breathe down before being dragged under a river’s icy surface. One you would take, knowing it might be your last.

He pulls out to his tip, then roughly pushes back in, pushing you into the pillow, and all sense is knocked from your head.

All sense from his, too.

A low growl rumbles through his chest, constraints dissolving to dust and ash as discipline crumbles like sand, disintegrating into nothing as both his hands roughly grip your hips, pulling back to slam into you. Deep, rough, thorough strokes that have his cock hitting spots inside of you, drool slipping over your lips as he fucks the protests out of your mind—fucks the moans from your mouth.

Your vision changes, unable to understand anything you’re seeing through the pure haze of pleasure, unable to take anymore after the two he’d forced through you without having to so much as trace the pad of his finger over your clit. And now he’s pounding into you, knocking the breath from your lungs, filling you up all the while you’re bound and tied, shackled and caged beneath him. For him to use as he pleases.

Tingling heat coils in the pit of your belly, and you’re not sure whether you would prefer the gathering orgasm to be of your own making or his. Whether you would rather it be your body naturally responding to his cruel, dominating pleasure, or for his daemati hands to have slipped into your mind again, fingers easing the puppet-strings to move in the correct formation to have the high rising so swiftly. You hardly have the capacity to consider the thought before it’s banished from your mind, darkness widening the stance of your knees on the mattress so they can twine between your legs, pushing and rubbing at your clit, slick and precum having mixed together, dripping down, slowly making you gleam with arousal that the darkness now uses to catapult you into the orgasm. Shoving you mercilessly into the boiling tempest of pleasure, holding your head below the raging waters so as to drown you in euphoria, to having it fill your lungs and burn at your eyes as it passes through your body.

Rhysand feels you trembling, crying out as you flutter and squeeze him, finding his own high with yours, canines flashing in a barely restrained snarl, teeth biting down into the appetising slope of your shoulder. He feels it as he spills inside of you, hot spurts of cum releasing from him directly into your cunt, and he continues bucking his hips to keep it all pressed deep inside, sloppily grinding against you until your body has ceased its shudders and you’re panting quietly, tears still dripping down your cheeks, nails having bitten deep into your palms but he doubts you’re at all aware of the pain in the moment.

The High Lord curses lowly, breathless as he pulls out of you, seeing how he’s coated in your arousal, wrapped in the evidence of your orgasm, a fresh wave of pleasure having soaked him in your slick, slightly creamy from his cum mixing in. He groans lowly, canine finding place in the corner of his lip as he bites lightly, stroking himself experimentally, then gritting his teeth from sensitivity.

Rhysand glances down at you, ass still kept in the air, trembling; unable to move yet from his shadows, and at once the hunger is renewed, grip tightening on himself as he hardens again. Arousal gathers within him, and he moves almost without thinking, guiding himself back to your entrance, despite how you cry as you feel him begin to push back in, forgetting you will be about to endure a fourth orgasm in less than quarter of an hour, while he is only starting on his second.

You cry out as he firmly presses back in, once again shoving the air from your lungs, and you flinch as the heel of his palm presses hard against the nape of your neck, thumb to one side while his fingers settle on the other, chaining you to the bed by your throat, and allowing him to… You swallow thickly, but struggle with his weight leaning on you.

“Rhys…” you rasp, panic setting in, realising what differences this will make; knowing you can’t take it. “Rhys… Rhys…!” You struggle frantically, arms tugging at the restraints as you try everything you can think of: thrashing against the bonds of your wrists, trying to rock your body side to side to turn over, using all your trembling strength to try and pull your legs free… “Rhys, please…Rhys listen—listen to me,” you cry, fingers moving as if trying to scratch him.

He pays you no mind, grip hardening on the nape of your neck as he pushes in, finding his pace again, following his own instincts this time, the feeling of your orgasm on his cock, how you’d fluttered around him…he’s undone.

Your breath turns more ragged, heart pounding as he increases the pace, feeling inside as it becomes rougher, more feral, more unrestrained, the damper of his power clean off as darkness sprawls across the bed. The rhythm becomes punishing, brutal bucks of his hips, and you nearly scream as he takes advantage of the position, putting his weight behind each thrust, pinning you down by your neck, fucking you into his bed with a conviction that’s obsessive.

Nails dig into your palms, muscles going taut as darkness presses to your clit, rubbing in mean, tight circles, far too harsh for how sensitive you are, thighs shaking with the cruel stimulation. You’re utterly helpless to the way your spine curves, how your toes curl, how you tighten around him with how good it feels—being so roughly treated, pleasure being so mercilessly infused into your body.

And this time, you know he’s tampering with your mind.

You scream as you come again, cock driving into you over and over until your voice gives out, his hips bucking into you in a way that has you forgetting the circumstances, silently begging for it not to end, to not let the pleasure slip away.

A dark grin curves his hellish mouth, daemati fingers effortlessly plucking on the puppet-strings, dragging the high out just as you’d silently prayed for.

But a mind can only take so much tampering. The High Lord knows this, had warned you about it himself before he’d pulled the first two from you. Yet in his haze, caught in his hunger, all he hears are your pleas, and his own mind is helpless to give more and more and more.

It’s only after he’s flipped you over, fucked you full, and sealed his mouth against your own that he realises you’ve passed out, mind exhausted from his relentless ministrations. He doesn’t want to stop, but he knows he can’t continue.

Gazing down at your body, head tipped to the side, your eyes already slightly puffy from crying, he feels a slight ache within his chest. He’s old enough to recognise regret when it appears, the cloying heaviness of guilt that’s so difficult to shake.

He brushes hair from your cheek, wet with saliva, and his thumb traces the curve beneath your lower lip, regaining his breath as he quietly looks over you. You’ll need to rest, to recuperate after the night. As much as he wants to keep you in his own bed, it will only make more damage, and he’s caused enough for the time being. Anymore and he might struggle to fix it.

As it is, he allows himself a few more minutes, leaning over your pliant body, brow pressing to your own as he cups your jaw. He supposes it’s a prayer of his own, though he can’t guess what to.

He’s not sure he wants to pray to something that would listen to him.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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[shadowdaddyazriel]

What’s one ACOTAR fanfic you’ve been dying for someone to write?? I’m always looking for new ideas!

Be sure to check out my longer fics on Wattpad and ao3 under @shadowdaddyazriel for more!!

#sjm smut #acotar smut #acotar #azriel smut #sarah j maas #azriel x reader #smut #rhys acotar #cassian acotar #azriel x you #sarahjmaas #rhysand x feyre #high lord rhysand #dark rhysand #rhysand smut #feyre x rhysand #feysand smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fic #cassian x azriel #azriel x elain #azriel x cassian x you #azriel #azriel x gwyn #azriel acotar #pro azriel #nesta x cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x axriel x you #sjm crossover

[bat-boys]

domestic bliss

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.5k words

warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!

summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate

a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻

Part 2

A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.

A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling. 

Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence. 

"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head. 

"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him. 

"Well, hurry up."

"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair. 

You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.

Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair. 

"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly. 

"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you. 

He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there. 

"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss. 

"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you. 

Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared. 

Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs. 

You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch. 

"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.

"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin. 

"With pleasure, sweetheart."

…

The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element. 

You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped. 

Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night. 

He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.

As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new. 

A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you. 

You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back. 

"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips. 

"Shadowsinger." You purred. 

"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation. 

"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room. 

Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone. 

After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove. 

With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones. 

"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting. 

"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs. 

"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly. 

"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.

"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you. 

"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh. 

Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.

"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.

"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.

"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze. 

"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye. 

"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress. 

"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you. 

"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over. 

"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"

"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down. 

"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit. 

"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway. 

…

Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen. 

He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 

A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his. 

A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.

"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. 

"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.

"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.

"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"

He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually. 

"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.

"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking. 

"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.

It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore. 

Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are. 

Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him. 

The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"

He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down." 

He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him. 

"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him. 

His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go. 

"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"

"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.

"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion. 

"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."

He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa. 

"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.

His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought. 

"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart. 

"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."

Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there. 

He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite. 

"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven. 

He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile. 

"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.

"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile. 

"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.  

Read Part 2 here!

#azriel #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel one shot #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar oneshot #acotar x reader #azriel fluff #acotar #azriel spymaster #rhysand #feyre #cassian #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #imagine

[imxnotxhere]

Azriel Fic Recs

** Updated 25/02/2024 **

A collection of amazing fics I think everyone should read. Also an appreciation for the writers that carry this fandom on their back.

One Shots:

@tadpolesonalgae

unchained - smut - really hot, i think there's going to be more parts but im not sure

stockholm syndrome - smut, dark!az - please check the warnings before reading!

birthday girl - fluff - very very cute

dreamy - smut - i think everyone needs soft dom!az

@azsazz

the caress of murder and moonlight - smut, rhys x azriel x reader - "Rhysand and Azriel are having a secret meeting out in the woods. Upon hearing your scream, the race to save you, and you thank them in the only way you know how."

after hours - smut, modern au, office au - "You and Az work in the same office and you've been crushing on each other for quite some time. Late at the office one night, he decides to do something about it."

body and soul - vamp!az au, smut - recommend checking the other parts

dirty work - smut

leisurely - fluff

@leafsandstarlight

forced revelations - fluff - "While on a mission with Azriel, reader is tricked by a creature into revealing that her feelings for the Shadowsinger go beyond mere friendship."

bad idea, right? - smut - "You stopped sleeping together months ago, but when Azriel invites you back to his place after seeing you at Rita's you just know you're going to fall right back into his bed."

@acourtofmenandthirst

love you in the dark - angst (really heavy on the angst)

@azrielhours

soft spot - smut, fluff - "Azriel is very particular about his lovers; typically hard-hearted women chosen so they don’t develop an emotional attachment. Reader is one of these lovers, except she’s the sweetest and cheeriest on his roster. This causes Az to begin breaking his rules about intimacy, especially when she unwittingly ends up at his home for work one evening and spends the night."

take care - fluff - "There Was only One Bed trope, reader and Az stay at an Inn overnight, they take care of each other."

i want you to rest - fluff - 10/10 comfort fic - "Reader has a nightmare while on a mission w the boys. Azriel comes to the rescue, brings her to his room to comfort her. She doesn’t want to sleep so he stays with her through the night."

lessons on relief - smut - "Azriel is the last of the boys to lose his virginity"

@azrielbrainrot

i'll be here - fluff - "You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue."

such a perfect place to start - fluff - "Something happens that has you questioning the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger."

maybe we could be the start of something - fluff, modern au, band au - Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there."

darling i'd wait for you even if you didn't ask me to - fluff, modern au, band au - "You have a really bad day and Azriel is there to help you through it."

@serpentandlily

no going back- angst - "Azriel has been your mate, your husband, your love for centuries. But a certain Archeron sister has him questioning your relationship after all this time. You soon find out that there are simply things that can not be unsaid or undone. And sometimes, there are things you can’t come back from."

@fever-fluff

take my hand - angst, fluff - "Azriel really wants to hold your hand, but he's afraid that he'll hold it too tight."

@writingcroissant

just a little crush - fluff - "Everyone secretly longs for Azriel, but Azriel only longs for her."

hands - smut - "Azriel has really nice hands. And he knows how to use them, too."

@azrielscrown

innocence - smut, fluff

@gothicbabydollz

azriel x archeron!sister!reader - smut

@honeybeefae

desperate times - smut - "While tending to Elain's garden you come across a mysterious flower with an even more mysterious pollen. As the effects of it start to hit you, you have to fend for yourself to get the edge off...or do you?"

@writingsbychlo

be yours - fluff - "you ask azriel how it's possible he's still single."

@lalacliffthorne

idiot - smut - "a fight gets out of hand, and suddenly, everything´s turned upside down"

@safetypinxtales

lonely with you - angst, fluff - "it seems like everyone's found their mates, except you. On a sleepless night you turn to your friend, in hopes that being alone, together, will feel slightly less lonely."

@prythianpages

i've been waiting for you - "Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate."

Series:

@tadpolesonalgae

i can't bring myself to hate you - angst, smut (only one chapter for now at least) - this fic is my roman empire, literally obsessed with this. prepare for the pain and to kind of want to hit azriel over the head

the dregs of tragedy - mer!az

eat you up - smut, dark!az - please check the warnings at the beginning! if you're ever in a mood for dark!az this is the perfect remedy (stockholm syndrome is a sort of epilogue? for this)

teeth and talons - smut, demon!az - "you’re accused of witchcraft and sacrificed to the shadow creatures, only to be saved by their ruler who’s suspiciously in sudden need of a bride…"

@azsazz

cupid's chokehold - fluff, angst - this is such an interesting concept - "You are a Cupid, a nearly extinct creature of Prythian. When you get caught trying to shoot Elain with your arrow, well, it's a little hard to explain what you're trying to do."

@leafsandstarlight

inadvertently yours - fluff, angst, smut, fake relationship and arranged marriage are classics for a reason - "As Eris Vanserra’s most trusted spy, you‘ve found yourself spending a surprising amount of time with the Night Court’s Spymaster. When your rendezvous with Azriel is discovered by High Lord Beron, the only way to protect the alliance is to pretend that you and Azriel are madly in love."

annual visit - fluff, smut - human reader, modern(?) au - "Each year on Halloween, Azriel visits the mortal lands with his friends to partake in the human debauchery that occurs. When he meets reader at a local bar, he can't take his eyes off her no matter how hard he tries."

@pellucid-constellations

of oblivious minds - fluff - "You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore."

@utterlyazriel

how long have i searched for you? an eternity my love - fluff - "azriel finds his mate in the most inopportune time and he convinces himself you haven't sought him out for good reason. he couldn't be more wrong."

@azrielbrainrot

i laugh like me again, she laughs like you - angst - "Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time."

the devel i revel in - demon!azriel - "Your duties take you into the forest often but one day you feel compelled to explore further. What could go wrong?"

@acourtofwhatthefuck

bluebird - some fluff and angst for now

studious part 2 - smut

@lalacliffthorne

bat boys roommates - fluff, modern roommates au - there's multiple parts to this au and it's azriel x reader but rhys and cass appear a lot as reader's roommates

#azriel x reader #azriel smut #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel fic rec #azriel #acotar

[utterlyotterlyx]

Constellations

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Azriel can't allow himself to stand on the side lines anymore and watch as yet another male tries to take you away from him.

Warnings - oblivious reader and Az, angst, pining, Az and Nes being cuties, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), lots of fluff, flirting

There were constellations in your eyes.

That was what everyone had said when they'd first met you, alluding to the clear fact that you were a deep daydreamer whenever you sprang to topic, which was more often than you'd think.

Prythian bowed to you, everyone in every nook and cranny in any court knew who you were. A shining star in a court of nightmares.

Every one of the High Lords held a special affection toward you, often asking you to leave Rhysand and the inner circle and join them instead. Helion had made a point of his fondness by making a comment about how other-worldly you looked in Day Court gold, and then later on teasing Rhys about how he would one day succeed in his desire.

Everyone could beg and plead for you as much as they wished, but none of their affection could rival how Azriel felt about you.

Azriel was your shadow. Wherever you went meant that the Shadowsinger stalked not too far behind. He would sit with you and hum whilst you ran your fingers through his hair, each touch sending lightening soaring through his soul. He would walk around Velaris with you endlessly if it meant that he could see that almost childlike wonder in your eyes when you looked at the same restaurant or bookshop that had surely seen a thousand times before. He would soothe away your nightmares, allowing his shadows to pepper your skin in sweet pecks as he held you, and he would let you get close enough to soothe him when his own demons plagued him.

That's why, when he stood to the side of the room with a whisky in hand, did he want to tear apart the male who dared to speak to you. Helion was no regular male. But, as you giggled at one of his flirtatious jokes and rested your hand on his chest, Azriel became sure that he could make him scream like one.

Helion was visiting from the Day Court and it was the last night of his stint, so Rhys had suggested that you all go to Rita's, to relax from the toll of the week. The High Lord in question needed access to a couple of special tomes in one of Velaris' archives, you and Rhys had agreed that the tomes were too valuable to allow outside of the city, so Helion had to come to you. Like all he wanted was another excuse to be around you.

Azriel couldn't blame Helion for it.

Azriel believed that you were the most precious thing on the planet. 500 years of friendship and you stunned him more and more each day with your anecdotes and the innocent chatter that always filled the room.

"He's really trying this again?" Nesta asked, appearing beside him at the railing, wanting to take a moment away from the family madness before Cassian dragged her to dance for the fifth time that night.

"Can you blame him?"

The top three buttons of his shirt were left untethered, exposing that rock hard muscle beneath that was ink kissed and shimmering. Azriel couldn't stop looking at you, you were wearing that dress that you loved so much, sheer white and glittered in fine crystals, a low scooped back that fell perfectly on your figure. It was the only thing that could truly take his breath away.

"When are you going to tell her that you love her?" Nesta gazed at you, she'd never admit it but you were definitely her favourite, she held a special spot for you in her heart, just how everyone did really. "You need to tell her," she turned to him and he peered down on her with a sincerity she'd never seen, "She's incredible, Az. She's not the kind of girl you let get away. Go and love her before someone else does."

"She deserves better than me, Nes," his sad gaze lifted to you, you were starlight and he was shadow, you were pure and he was horribly tainted, and he couldn't have his darkness snuffing out your light.

Nesta gently pulled his sight from the dancefloor, making him focus on her by keeping her palm grazing against his cheek, "You're not a very good spymaster if you can't see how she looks at you."

Azriel didn't know what to say, he just knew that he had to get to you. He rounded Nesta and descended onto the dancefloor, barging past the grinding bodies with you in his sight, sipping your drink and smiling brightly at Helion who was stood far too close to you. You always felt Azriel looming, his shadows curling around your ankles always being a tell-tale sign that he was close.

Your eyes followed the trails of his shadows until you found their owner, your brows furrowed at the urgency he wore whilst he kept glancing at Helion with a tight jaw. It was unsettling.

"I need to speak to you," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you and you had no choice but to look up at him, to let those rippling pools of hazel drown you.

"Az, is every-"

"Please," he cut you off, reaching for you but not quite touching, like he was waiting for your agreement so that he could whisk you away.

You had never seen Azriel look so pained, so pleading and desperate. Without a word to Helion, you nodded and Azriel's fingers slid around your wrists, pulling you into a whirl of colour until you stood on a floor that you recognised and Rita's faded away.

The cabin was warm, everything was in place and tidy, that scent burning wood and orange that clung to the cabin flooded your lungs and made you shiver with delight. You had always loved the place, how perfectly small it was for a lone escape, where you could watch the snow fall from the bay window with a hot chocolate in hand and blanket wrapped tightly around your legs.

It took you a moment to centre yourself, and when you turned, you saw Azriel stood there, head hung low and wings drooped but relishing in the comfortable warmth of where you both were, "What's wrong, Az?"

The only light illuminating the cabin was from the fire, that crackling beast that sent gold and orange light roaring across the space, it welcomed in the faint glow of the moon that spilled onto the floor like an old friend.

"You can't go with Helion," he told you, well, more blurted at you.

"Go with Helion?" You asked and he nodded, anger bubbled in your chest, "Why would I ever do that?"

"He's wanted to take you from us for so long," 200 years to be exact, "Who could blame him, you're the most incredible thing that Prythian has ever made. I thank the Mother every day for you."

"What?"

"Please let me finish," he hated cutting you off, he hated being the reason that you were silenced, "If you speak now, I'll never be able to say what I have to say, what I need to say."

Azriel watched your face soften, the anger that threatened to boil over now evaporated, he watched you move to the sofa and sit down, patting the empty space beside you. He didn't know how you did it, how you could make someone feel so comfortable and heard, he thought about it as he took the seat beside you and heaved in a deep breath, curling one of his wings around you as if he was scared that you'd bolt.

"I love you, Y/N. I love your kindness, how you've never been scared of me. I love the way your eyes sparkle when you're talking about something you're passionate about. I love how you scrunch your nose when you're deep in thought. I love the way you bolt through the streets of Velaris before solstice to make sure everyone is as spoilt as possible. I love you, Y/N. I love everything that you are and everything that we can be, I can't lose you, I don't know who or what I'd be without you."

"There is no one who knows you like I do. I know that you sneak an extra spoonful of sugar into your hot chocolate before Nesta can catch you and tell you off," you smiled softly, "I know that you secretly hate shopping with Mor but would much rather suffer than tell her and take some of her spark away. I know that you can never tell Cassian that Nesta is your favourite unless you wanted to see him sulk for weeks," a soft laugh flew from your lips, "I know you're the reason that Rhys, Cass and I turned out so well, you're the only person we couldn't bear to disappoint."

Not once did you stop looking at him as he spoke. He loved you. Azriel really loved you.

"You love me?" Azriel nodded gently, "But, what about Elain? I thought..."

"Me and Elain?" Azriel's eyes were frantic, "No, Y/N. Gods no. You're the only one I've ever wanted, I tried to love someone else, I tried to love Mor, and maybe on some level I tried to find that with Elain. But no one could ever compare to you, anyone who isn't you aren't worth it."

Silence filled the air, that warm, golden hued air. Azriel was trying to read your mind, to figure out what you were thinking when you started laughing, tears pooled at your bottom lids and one blink sent them flowing down your cheeks. Azriel shuffled closer to you, taking his thumb and wiping away your tears before they dripped from your chin.

"We're so stupid, Az," you sniffled, letting him cradle your face in his hands and continue to wipe away any tears that fell from your eyes, "How could we be so blind?"

"What do you mean?"

Tilting your head to the side, your eyes sparkled, just how they did when you looked at or spoke about something you loved, then you felt it, that tension that had always tugged at your soul snapping into place, clouds of grey became clear sunny skies, and a golden thread soared across it and thrummed with yearning delight.

"I mean," you tugged on that thread, you watched his eyes widen and fill with disbelief, "That I love you too. So much."

"You're my mate," he confessed in a whisper, the bond sprouting into full bloom around you, like you could both see the tendrils of thread sewing your souls together.

Azriel's breath fanned across your face, hot and laced with the scent of whisky, the tip of his nose ran down the slope of your own, and you felt his lips lie millimetres away from yours, you watched his eyes search your soul before flickering downward to the place he craved to touch. Anticipation pulled at your chest and swelled in your stomach, and every bit of doubt vanished when he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours.

It was like everything fell into place, like the world only began to make sense in that moment. Azriel's lips moved against yours hungrily, the sweep of his tongue into your mouth once you had granted him permission to taste you was enough to make your knees go weak. Heat pooled between your legs and you scrambled to be on top of him, the hem of your dress hitched around your thighs as you rested into his lap.

"Please, Az," you breathed between starving kisses, "I need you."

Azriel's hands moved from the back of your neck and the small of your back, reaching around to grip underneath your thighs, so dangerously close to where you needed him to be. He lifted you, not once breaking the connection of your lips, locking your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom.

"I'm not making you mine on a couch," he lay you on the bed and climbed on top of you, running his fingers down the sides of your thighs, making your back arch as he peppered kisses down your neck, sucking and nibbling on the skin he found there.

You squirmed beneath him, itching to rip his clothes off and allow him to take every part of you, "Please," you whined into his hair, his hand palming your breasts and lips attached to your earlobe, making soft moans fall through your stumbling mouth.

"Tell me what you want," his voice was so deep that it made goosebumps rise across your skin, it was sultry and dark, it matched the shade of his eyes when he pulled away to look down on you with swollen lips and tousled hair. "I'll give you everything."

"I want you."

It was all he needed to hear in order to tear your dress in two and take your hardened nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting on them gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nubs of nerves that had you gasping and eyes rolling to the back of your head. You felt like your body was on fire as he kept moving downward, littering kisses down your stomach before resting between your thighs.

The cold air against your core made you gasp again, he ran a finger down your soaked folds and moaned, "You're so wet for me," his voice vibrated against the inside of your thighs, "So perfect," he mumbled before his tongue dragged a line up you, and then again, and again until you were a blubbering mess fisting your fingers through his hair.

Azriel flicked his tongue against that familiar bundle of nerves, curling his tongue around it and sucking on it gently so that he didn't overstimulate you. Stars crept in to the sides of your vision, that hot white heat building in the pit of your stomach, "Don't stop," they were barely coherent words but he heard you and kept his pace, teasing a finger around your entrance before slowly pushing it in an curling it upward.

It sent you toppling off the edge. That white heat burst from you, loud cries of his name flew from your lips and your hands gripped his wrists, stars poured into your eyes and Azriel pushed you through your high.

Too lost in the mind shattering orgasm he had just given you, you didn't feel his hands ran up your back and lock around the back of your neck, you didn't realise that your torso and head were propped up in his arms or see his wings flex above you, "Angel," he cooed, he clenched his hands into your hair and pressed his lips along your jaw, "Let me take care of you."

Azriel was bare before you, his length solid and resting against your thigh, "Make me yours, Az."

Azriel growled, his eyes darkened with possession, "Tell me if it's too much and we can stop," you nodded breathlessly and he kissed you again, harder this time as he pushed himself inside of you, your walls still quivering and pulsating around him.

Once he was pushed to the hilt inside of you, he groaned, it was deep and guttural, the most incredible sound you'd ever heard. Azriel gave you a moment, and you tapped his shoulder lightly to get him to move, you were needing him to move, it was getting too much. Your soul was burning with desire and you needed him to satisfy it before it completely ignited you.

Your mate thrusted into you, the roll of his hips reaching angles you didn't know existed, he took your nipple in his mouth again, growling as his pace quickened and the sound of slapping flesh and declarations of love filled the air.

"You're so beautiful, Angel," his lips found yours again and his movements became sloppy, "I'm so close," he felt your warmth tighten around him, ready to milk his cock as high pitched mewls exploded from your lips, "There she is, my perfect mate."

Azriel's fingers wound in your hair, pressing your forehead to his as he slammed into you, riding you both through those searing hot highs and continuing the long strokes as you both fell down, "I'm yours, Az. I'm all yours."

Authors Note

😌

#fanfiction #imagine #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #cassian #maasverse #mor acotar #rhysand #nesta #nesta x cassian #nesta x azriel #fluff #angst #elain archeron #helion acotar #helion x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader

[quinzzelx]

Steamy Pages

Azriel x Fem! Rhys Sister! Reader

A series of connected Oneshots. Read Paramour here

Summary: In the House of Wind's library, Azriel catches you reading a steamy novel, leading to a secret and passionate encounter.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Smut, 18!+, Oral fem!Receiving, PnV, dirty talk, Not proof-read yet

A/N: Somehow, I always end up writing smut instead of my fluffy or angsty WIP's. But I have so many things that I'm currently working on, which I only want to be perfect & as of right now, I don't feel up to the task :( I hate to keep you guys waiting- but I really have writers' block for some of my stuff right now and all I'm able to do is smut somehow lmao... I also need a name for this series of connected Oneshots. ☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

As you sat in the House of Wind's library, engrossed in a book, a figure appeared in the corner of your eye. Azriel. For the past few weeks, Azriel and you had been falling into and out of each other's beds. Ever since that fateful night at Rita's where the thin line you both had been tiptoeing around was finally crossed after drunkenly stumbling back home. Rhys, your brother, was out that day, Mor had left with someone, and Cassian was at the camps, leaving just the two of you to find your way back. Something was different that night, and one thing led to another. A blush crept onto your cheeks at the mere thought of that heat-filled, steamy night.

Now, you sat in the library reading. Azriel entered silently, watching you curled up on the lounge chair before the hearth, a book in your hand. He had been away for a few days, and seeing you here stirred something deep within him. Fully immersed in your novel, you didn't hear the silent steps of the Shadowsinger as he approached. The characters in your book were finally confessing their love for each other, and as the scene grew steamy, a deeper blush spread across your face, your heart rate picking up.

He stopped beside the chair and leaned down to watch the words you read, his breath brushing your cheek. A low growl escaped him as he read aloud, "My legs trembled as his fingers traced invisible patterns on the inside of my thighs, venturing further up, up, up. I felt his all-consuming presence enveloping me, and as his fingers brushed against my awaiting heat, softly caressing my cunt over the thin fabric of my lacy underwear..."

You flinched, yelping at the sudden intrusion, snapping your head in his direction. Your face heated unbelievably at what was happening. Embarrassed, you tried to snap the book shut, but he swiftly snatched it out of your hands.

"Azriel, stop!" you whined, trying to reach for the book in utter mortification.

He smirked at your discomfort and slowly flipped the book open, his finger trailing over the page as he read. "With a primal growl, he buried his face between my thighs, his tongue eagerly tasting me through the thin fabric." Scrambling to your knees on the sofa, you threw the blanket you were nestled in to the ground, fumbling to reach the book. Even your pointed ears turned a shade of dark red. "Az, please stop reading!" you swallowed hard, trying to pry the book from his hands again.

He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on the book. The room seemed to grow warmer as he leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear. "Why? Are you enjoying this?"

You huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest, staring up at his towering form. Your face was perfectly lined up with his crotch. Your eyes narrowed. "Obviously not," you lied, trying to keep your face straight, hoping the scent of your arousal wasn't that strong.

His lips twitched as he caught your lie. He tilted your chin up just enough to make eye contact before he brought the book up slightly, still holding onto it, the description obscene. "I don't think I believe you."

Your heartbeat picked up, his touch lighting a fire inside of you. "That's not my problem now, is it, Shadowsinger?" you tried to fake nonchalance, but your heated skin and subtle glance at the book betrayed your true feelings.

He smirked, his eyes filled with mischief as he watched you, his free hand coming to your cheek to trace it with the pad of his thumb. "Careful, princess, you're giving yourself away." Subconsciously, you closed your eyes, leaning into the warmth of his touch. Your breath hitched when he continued to read the absolute filth of the book aloud.

"His tongue dragged over my clothed cunt as he grunted at the feeling of my arousal-drenched panties." He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his beautiful lips as he skimmed the page further before continuing to read aloud. "Oh, very interesting. My orgasm shattered me, crashing over me like a tidal wave as his fingers worked their way over my swollen clit. His tongue lapping at every bit of my arousal."

"You seem to be enjoying my reading, princess." His hand trailed down from your face, stopping at the curve of your neck. His thumb brushed back and forth over the tender skin there, feeling the pulse quicken under his touch. Your breath caught in your throat, lungs suddenly empty of any air. Heat crawled up your body, and your skin felt like it was burning. "I was also enjoying reading my book before you strolled in here and interrupted me so rudely." His low chuckle rumbled through the room, and he leaned in closer, the added heat from his body enveloping you. "Rude, was I now?" His thumb slipped lower, tracing a line down from your collarbone to the valley of your cleavage.

"Azriel," you said his name, meant as a warning, but the quivering in your voice made it sound more like a plea. His eyes sharpened, jaw ticking as a low sound, something like a growl, slipped past his lips.

"Say my name like that again, and I will fuck you right into the cushions of this couch until you're screaming it for the whole house to hear," he said, voice low and husky but calm and collected. Your eyes widened, and molten lava pooled between your legs. "You have no idea what kind of thoughts you're provoking, princess."

His thumb slipped inside the neckline of your dress, grazing the soft skin of your breast. "Maybe I should give you a taste of what you're asking for, what you're so innocently reading." You closed your eyes, gasping when his fingers dipped lower, skimming across your hardening nipple. You whimpered at the touch, exhaling sharply, one of your hands wandering to wrap around the wrist of his hand that was currently groping at your chest, squeezing your breast in his big hand.

A wicked grin formed at the corners of his mouth, enjoying both your reaction and your desperation for him. He leaned closer, whispering in your ear with hot, fiery breath as he continued teasing you. "Do you want me to fuck you, princess?"

Every bit of restraint you wanted to keep snapped as you surged forward. Now, with his face so close to yours as he hovered so close, you crashed your lips into his, capturing him in a searing kiss. Tangling your hands in his hair, pulling him closer to you, you heard the book drop to the ground, his now free hand rushing to your hip, squeezing it. He growled into your mouth. Pain struck you shortly as he squeezed your breast harshly again, pinching your pebbled nipple.

"Azriel, fuck," you moaned into his mouth, into the kiss, teeth and tongue fighting for dominance. "I don't want you to just fuck me; I need you to completely unravel me."

The kiss was scorching, burning through Azriel's soul and body, igniting a wildfire of desire that almost made him gasp. He snarled against your lips, a primal, possessive sort of sound, his fingers tightening on your hip as you pulled him closer. You pulled him even closer, and with his legs already leaned against the armrest of the sofa, he toppled over. The huge Illyrian male crashing into your body as you also fell back. But the kiss never broke as he now lay on top of you, grunting and starting to kiss down your neck, nipping and licking at your heated flesh. You whined and tugged at his hair as his hand kneading your breast slipped up to tug down your dress, making your breast spill out. He wasted no time exploring the newly exposed skin, biting and kissing over your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you, his tongue swirling over your nipple before sucking it harder into his mouth. His hand trailed down your body, slipping under the fabric of your dress, inching higher until his fingers brushed against your wet core.

"Gods above," you huffed, trying to regain some composure. You pulled at his hair, making him release your nipple with a pop and tilt his head to look at you. The sight of his face made your pussy throb—his dark curls messy and falling into his eyes, hazel swirling with darkness, pupils blown wide with lust, cheeks flushed, and lips glinting with saliva. Realizing you were staring, you groaned. "Fuck, why are you so gorgeous?"

The sound of your almost breathless voice had Azriel smirking, his eyes flashing dangerously when you cursed. "Are you trying to flatter me?"

You rolled your eyes, giving his hair a playful tug. "Gorgeous but a little too cocky for my taste." You mirrored his smirk, biting your bottom lip as you imagined how he'd pound into you, how his fingers would feel inside you. Both his hands sneaked down your torso, coming to rest just above your knees where your summer dress had already bunched up. He gathered it in his hands, maintaining eye contact, and slowly inched the dress up your legs, kissing the newly exposed skin.

"Az, what are you—" you started to ask, but he cut you off.

"We've been fucking all these weeks and I didn't get to taste that pretty little cunt yet," he said, fabric bunching around your hips now, his hot tongue leaving a wet trail on your inner thigh. "And I'm planning on changing that."

Azriel chuckled softly against your skin, the sound vibrating against your thigh as he continued to move his lips further up. His possessive hand on your waist tightened slightly as his mouth finally found the heat of your core, tongue lapping at your clit through the thin lace of your panties.

Your hips bucked in surprise as he softly nibbled on your clit through the lace of your thong. You squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling, your chest heaving, your left hand grabbing onto the cushions, fingers immediately digging into them. Azriel smirked against you, fingers hooking into your panties and tugging them downwards, revealing the smoothness of your bare sex. He groaned softly, almost unnoticeably, hands moving to spread you open for him.

You whined when he pulled apart your legs, your cheeks heating under his intense stare as he seemed to commit the sight of your glistening cunt to memory. "Gods, you have such a pretty pussy," he groaned. You wanted to scream when he dragged his tongue through your folds, from your entrance to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. Your back arched as you gasped.

He hummed against your swollen folds, the vibration making you quake underneath him. His tongue was lethal, and he knew it. He had always wondered if you tasted as sweet as he had imagined, and now he knew the answer was a resounding yes. A sinful moan ripped from your throat when he dove in deeper, prodding his tongue at your entrance and lapping up your arousal, burying his face in your cunt, his nose brushing against your clit. Your toes curled as ripples of pleasure shot down your spine. He moaned into your pussy, tongue delving deeper as he feasted on you, the sound of your moans spurring him on. With one arm wrapped around your thigh, his fingers dug into your flesh possessively. Cauldron, he wanted to drown in your cunt.

"You taste like the sweetest temptation, Princess," he growled into you. "So fucking delicious."

Your other hand, the one not holding onto the sofa for dear life, tangled in his hair again, tugging and pushing him closer into your heat. "Yes, make me cum on your pretty face," you whined.

"Beg for me, Princess," he said, his words muffled by your folds. His tongue lashed out against your clit, teasing mercilessly. With each flick of his tongue, you grew more desperate, your hold on his hair tightening.

You didn't feel like fighting, so you yielded to him, to his will. "Please," you whimpered. "Please, Az, make me cum with your tongue." Every word left you as a whining moan, grinding your hips and your cunt into his face. "Oh, please let me cum all over your pretty face."

Smirking to himself, Azriel obeyed your command. His tongue plunged deeper into your cunt, greedily drinking up your arousal. His fingers continued their assault on your thigh, squeezing and possessing in equal measure. You're mine, he whispered silently.

You cursed under your breath, eyes fixed on the Shadowsinger buried between your legs, feasting on you like a starved male, as if your pussy was his favorite meal. You gasped when his nose pressed into your clit as he basically made out with your cunt. Fuck, if he hadn't ruined you for other males before, he sure did now. The way you watched him between your legs only spurred Azriel on, his hands reaching upward to grasp your hips and force you harder against his hungry mouth. He reveled in the gasps, the desperate sounds leaving your mouth. He owned them now.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten. "So close," you slurred, desire and lust overwhelming your senses as all you could do was feel. Feel his tongue exploring your pulsing cunt, mapping it out like you once did with the night sky when you were younger.

A low growl vibrated against your pussy as Azriel felt you close to the edge. His hands gripped harder at your hips, keeping you immobile as he continued his relentless assault. He wanted to feel your orgasm shudder through your body and echo against his lips.

With a harsh suck on your sensitive bud, the dam broke, and your release came crashing over you with such force that you saw nothing but white, gasping for air. He maintained his hold on your hips, not letting you escape the intensity of your own orgasm. As you came back down to earth, he released you and gently kissed your sensitive folds before lifting his head, lips curved into a smug smile.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw him gazing at you, your chest heaving with heavy breaths. "That... That was unbelievable," you stated with a shaky voice, swallowing heavily.

He hummed as he crawled back up your body, dress still bunched around your hips, leaving your core exposed. "I am glad to have left you speechless, love," he murmured, positioning himself over you and brushing your hair away from your face. His gaze held a heated intensity that sent shivers down your spine as he lowered his head and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, and you were so lost in it, so lost in the passion, that you didn't notice how he freed his glorious length. You only noticed when his glistening head pressed into your inner thigh.

You moaned into his mouth when he gave you a fake thrust of his hips, lubricating his cock with your arousal. "You're so wet for me, love," he murmured, breaking the kiss and trailing his lips down your jawline to your collarbone. He continued to tease you, rocking his hips and letting his length glide against your folds. "Fuck me already," you gasped as his cock grazed your sensitive clit again.

"Ah ah, patience," he whispered, a sly smile playing on his lips. He slowly teased your entrance, letting the head of his cock slip inside before pulling back out. Whining, you tried to meet his hips with yours, trying to get him to sheathe himself inside of you fully, your arousal surely dripping onto the couch cushions by now.

"Oh no, we can't have that now, can we?" he said, finally giving in and thrusting into you with one swift motion. He gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he began to move inside you. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

You screamed out when he set a relentless pace, hips pistoning into you. He stretched you out, his cock reaching places no one had ever reached before, splitting you open. But it hurt so good, as if you were made for him, fitting perfectly around every delicious inch of him. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're so fucking tight, so perfect around me," he grunted, the sound primal and full of lust. He continued to pound into you, the couch moving slightly from the force of his thrusts.

You screamed out his name when the head of his cock hit your cervix repeatedly. He shifted and grabbed your ass with both hands, lifting you up slightly, and you automatically wrapped your legs around his hips, giving him better access. "Fuck, yes," he groaned low in his throat, his rhythm picking up once more as he pushed deeper into you. With each thrust of his hips, he ground against you hard, and the friction was nearly enough to make your eyes roll back into your head.

"Yes, yes, fuck me, tear me apart, Azriel," you gasped, chanting praise and urging him on. "You fill me up so good." He growled low in his throat, his thrusts becoming wilder and more unhinged. "Your pussy was made for me to dominate and destroy. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"Yes!" you nodded, whining and writhing beneath him, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. "Please." As you begged, Azriel grinned down at you, his eyes gleaming with pride and a hint of sadism. He obliged, picking up his pace and slamming into you with almost brutal force. His fingers dug into the skin of your ass, leaving bruises in their wake. "I own that pretty little cunt, don't I?" he snarled, eyebrows pinched as he fucked into you."Yes. Yours, it belongs to you," you panted.

"You're so fucking tight and perfect. I could do this all day and never tire of it," he groaned, fucking you harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, blending with your desperate moans.

"What's stopping you?" you mewled, bouncing back the question. "Because of my brother? Because my brother, your High Lord, is also your best friend? Because you don't want him to know that you're fucking his little sister?"

"Fuck, you are a brat," he growled. His hand quickly snapped up from your ass to grip your chin, tilting your head back. "You want me to keep fucking you?" When you whimpered, he gave you a mocking laugh. "Thought so. Then you better behave." You whimpered again, nodding as best you could with his firm grip on your chin. Azriel's smirk grew, a dark promise in his eyes. He released your chin only to grip your hips with both hands, pulling you against him with each powerful thrust. "Good girl," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "You know how to behave for me, don't you?"

"Yes, Azriel," you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you. "I'll be good for you."He grunted in approval, his pace unrelenting. The relentless rhythm had you teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body igniting with pleasure. His cock hit all the right spots, and the room filled with the symphony of your moans and his growls.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Say it."

"I'm yours," you whimpered, the words tumbling out between gasps. "Only yours, Azriel."

His response was a deep, satisfied groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove deeper. The intensity of his thrusts had you crying out his name, your body trembling with the force of your impending release. "Cum for me," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you cum around my cock."

The demand pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a force that left you breathless. You cried out his name, your body tightening around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. Azriel didn't relent, prolonging your ecstasy with each precise, powerful thrust. He watched you intently, reveling in the sight of your pleasure. As you came down from your high, he let out a low growl, his own release nearing.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful when you cum," he murmured, his pace becoming erratic. "I'm going to fill you up, make you mine in every way."

You moaned at his words, your body still trembling as you felt him tense. With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his release flooding your senses. He groaned your name, his hands gripping your hips as he rode out his orgasm.

As the intensity subsided, he collapsed on top of you, his breaths ragged and hot against your skin. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both caught your breath.

Azriel lifted his head, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he whispered, a tender smile playing on his lips.

You smiled back, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Good," you teased lightly, your voice still breathless. "Because you do the same to me."

He chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he murmured, his tone filled with affection. As you basked in the afterglow, enjoying the closeness of Azriel's embrace, a sudden shout pierced the air, causing you both to freeze.

"Where are you, you sneaky bastard?" Cassian's voice echoed through the library, filled with mischief and determination. Panic surged through you, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you realized the precariousness of your situation. With a frantic glance at Azriel, you both sprang into action, scrambling to compose yourselves and hide the evidence of your tryst.

Azriel's eyes widened with urgency as he helped you straighten your disheveled dress, his movements quick and efficient. You shared a silent, desperate exchange, a mix of amusement and apprehension flickering between you. With practiced ease, you both managed to arrange yourselves just in time, assuming casual positions as Cassian burst into the library, his grin widening as he caught sight of you.

"There you are," he exclaimed, bounding over to where you sat, completely unaware of the chaos that had just ensued. "I've been looking all over for you!" You exchanged a relieved glance with Azriel, a silent acknowledgment of the close call you had just narrowly avoided. As Cassian launched into animated conversation, his nose wrinkled slightly. "What is that smell?" he asked, glancing around with a confused expression.

You felt your cheeks heat, and you quickly deflected, grabbing a nearby book and fanning yourself as if trying to cool down. "Just some old library dust, Cass. You know how these books can get." Cassian shrugged, apparently satisfied with the explanation. "Yeah, I suppose. Anyway, Az, Rhys wants to talk to you about the latest mission." Azriel nodded, his face perfectly composed. "Of course, I'll head over now."

As Cassian turned to lead the way, Azriel caught your eye and sent you a sneaky smirk and a quick wink, making your heart flutter. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing, the thrill of your secret adding an extra layer of excitement. With a final smile, Azriel followed Cassian out of the library, leaving you to catch your breath and savor the memory of your passionate encounter.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

Feedback is always appreciated and welcome. Also pls feel free to slide into my inbox and talk. I'd really enjoy building up their universe because I'm a sucker for Azriel x Rhys!Sister Reader. The whole dating your brother's best friend trope always gets me and I have soooo many headcanons for them already lol!!

#azriel x reader #smut #x reader #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #reader insert #imagine #azriel acotar #azriel smut #Azriel x rhys!sister Reader

[glam-targaryen]

In Your Dreams: I ☁️🌙☁️

Azriel x Reader

A/n: Okay this is my first time writing in years but Az is Bringing me out of retirement. Opinions and ideas are always appreciated. Enjoyy😌

Summary: Az isn’t very fond of the newest member of the Night Court so much so that you even plague his dreams.

Warnings: This is a smut series. MDNI

part II

Song inspo:

“Az, you’re back!” Cassian’s booming voice probably alerts everyone in The House of Wind of his arrival just as Azriel touches down on the balcony.

Az can’t help the small smile directed at his brother. After being away on a mission for days, he appreciated Cassian’s loudness, it means home, comfort, relaxation-

Or so he thought until his eyes land on you, lounging on a sofa, book in hand but your empty eyes set on his own.

His smile instantly vanishes, replaced by a displeased glance before turning away.

Azriel cannot stand you. The newest member, a pick pocket from the Hewn City turned spy pupil for The Night Court. A dark presence that made him physically ill.

It’s no surprise you’re sat in the far corner of the room. Azriel hasn’t seen you speak to anyone beside Rhysand since your arrival. Even then, it was only about the minuscule missions he’d been sending you on the last 3 months.

Azriel simply nods at Cassian and Nesta. Words failing him as that illness returns deep in the pit of his stomach.

He can feel your uncanny gaze still focused on him, despite his obvious distaste for you. He knows that is precisely why you do it too.

Gods, you are the bane of his existence.

With a slight twitch of the brow, Az makes his way toward Rhysand’s study ready to give him yet another ear full about you.

How Rhys had even given you a position is beyond Azriel considering you were a straight up criminal.

Azriel had been on a mission in the slums of the Hewn City, the worst part, in fact. A part so small and forgotten that crimes are a first nature.

He just found the information he’d been looking for and his mood was nothing less than happy knowing he’d be back home soon.

That was until a cloaked figure had bumped him and continued on their way.

Naturally being in a more poor part of the city, Azriel pats his left hip making sure none of his weapons or money had been swiped. But they hadn’t.

It isn’t until he brings his left hand to move his own cloak and double check that he realizes his siphon is gone.

“How the fuck…” Azriel hasn’t been caught off guard like this in a long while. How could they swipe a stone embedded in his leathers without him feeling a thing?

Azriel wasted no time looking over the crowd to find the grey tattered cloak gracefully zipping through the crowd.

He follows just a swiftly. His eyes glued to the figure as he maneuvers past on goers.

The thief, as if sensing him, looks back for half a second before darting through the crowd, ducking and jumping over items and people. Still managing to move past them without bumping into anyone.

Az mutters a breathy, “Asshole” when he takes note of that.

At this point Azriel begins to push past the crowd. He can’t let them leave with it. Something that valuable, not just on market but to himself personally, will not fall into some slick criminals hands.

Just as they are about to round the corner Azriel sends his shadows in a silent command to detain the culprit. The shadows weave through the crowd even more speedy and graceful, wrapping around the hooded figure and yanking them back.

Their back hits the ground with an ‘oomf’ before they quickly try freeing themselves from the shadows constraints.

Azriel grabs their collar in one hand, lifting them up and bringing them to his eye level. The other hand snatching back the hood of the cloak.

He nearly gasps upon laying eyes on you. The bewitching darkness in your eyes bore into his, reaching for his soul as if you’d take it right from him.

Taking advantage of his perplexed state you kicked him in the stomach causing him to let go and his shadows to withdraw.

Azriel groans holding his middle and coughing once, twice.

You don’t hesitate to run down the empty alley but Azriel is quick to snap back.

You don’t make it half way through when he winnows in front of you. You slam into his chest and fall again, mud splattering the two of you. Azriel’s shadows bind your wrists above your head as he straddles your thighs.

You thrash beneath him, growling and clawing. His hands scanning over your arms, sides and hips until he felt the bulge of it settled on your hip…beneath the waistband of your pants.

He looks up at you, amusement dancing behind your wicked eyes as if he were being tested, ‘a will he, won’t he?’

His eyes flicker from yours to your somewhat now exposed navel. He can’t just…reach in there.

But he can’t just let you have it. He wouldn’t be wrong to take back what is his.

He scoffs, reaching under your waistband and pulling up a belt with a pocket attached causing you shriek almost inaudibly.

Azriel pulls the dull blue siphon from the pocket and looks back at you. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t half amused himself.

A strange girl from the slums of the Hewn City stealing his siphon and testing his honor as a male.

Though he is not crazy enough to indulge the amusement. You are a thief. Not just a common thief but a a thief able to pick a very valuable possession off of a very cautious male.

“What is your name?” Azriel asks still hovering over you.

You only glare back.

“I asked what your name is.” Azriel grows impatient above you but you do not respond.

It could have been over. He could have let you go and steal from some other fool who wouldn’t notice but…he didn’t want to. Perhaps your crime against him was too personal and punishment seemed fit.

“Get up.” Azriel roughly pulls you to your feet, shadows still binding your wrists. Your struggles are deemed futile when he whisks you away to his High Lord.

Azriel all but stomps into Rhys study, shutting the door behind him. “Your newest addition has a staring problem.”

Rhysand looks up from his notes to see his irritated brother throw himself into the seat across from him. “What happened to ‘hello’ ‘how are you’?”

Azriel sighs. “Rhys.”

Rhys leans back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. “What harm is a bit of staring? Maybe she likes what she sees.”

“Please.” Azriel rolls his eyes. “She likes nothing and no one.”

Rhys shrugs. “She’s not so bad, Az. You’re just pissed she was able to pick something off of you.”

“I’m pissed that you gave her a job instead of consequences.”

“How couldn’t I? I’d rather have someone that can out sneak my spy master on my side.” Rhysand teases.

“She did not ‘out sneak’ me. Her methods were textbook. Not sneaky at all.” Azriel grumbles his blatant lies. He knows not just any theif, not even an exceptional one, could do what you did.

Rhysand chuckles. “Whatever you say, brother.” He clears his throat. “I assume you found the shop?”

Azriel shakes his head. “I did not but I heard rumors of where it will turn up next.”

Rhys had assigned him a rather odd case, a book of lethal potions stolen from a temple in the Hewn City by a traveling shop now supplying those lethal drugs. Reports saying it makes users hyper aware, a party drug when used correctly but as expected there are those who abuse it, turning them aggressive and eventually killing them when too much is consumed. Azriel has spent the last week trying to track the shop down with nothing to show for it until today.

“Where?”

Azriel’s jaw tightens. “Coincidentally, in two days it will be in the same part of town…she…is from.”

Rhys chuckles at his brother’s pettiness once again. “She must really get under your skin with her staring.”

Azriel shakes his head, “Rhys, I’m telling you there is something off about her.”

“She’s been here for 3 months without incident. What do you suppose she will do?” Rhy asks entertaining the idea purely for the amusement of seeing a riled up Azriel.

“Steal. Spy. Hells for all we know she could be plotting everyone’s death.”

“Well, then I guess I should fear for your life when she accompanies you on your assignment?” Rhysand lifts a brow in mock questioning.

“Absolutely not. She will not be accompanying me anywhere…ever.” Azriel laughs at the notion.

“She knows her way around, she is successful in her missions and you need to get over your bruised ego and get along with her. She is supposed to be your pupil.”

Azriel shakes his head but before he can deny his High Lord, Rhysand continues.

“You will be taking her with you to retrieve the book and shut it down. That’s final.” Rhysand crosses his arms.

Azriel hesitantes but ultimately nods, dreading the thought of having to spend any amount of time near you.

.☁️🌙☁️.

Azriel is sat in the lounge, a book in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. His eyes read over the page for the millionth time before he slams it shut and rubs his temple.

Sleep had evaded him, unable to stop thinking of this damned mission he has to take you on. At the fact that he must push away the alarms going off in his entire being when you are around.

Azriel knows something is wrong with you. It’s your expressionless gaze, the eerie aura that follows you and the stillness of your existence, even just standing around you’re still as a statue. You’re like a ghost. His own personal poltergeist.

As if on cue, he shadows curl up his neck whispering of your presence.

His stomach drops. He’d be damned if he had to endure you anymore than he has to.

Just as he retreats into the shadows in the corner of the den, you glide straight past the room entirely. Not even peaking into the only lit room of the house.

He knows it’s ridiculous but it irked him that you didn’t even look. Had you no curiosity either? And if you aren’t coming to the den, where are you going?

Regardless, he definitely isn’t going to find out. He has no intention of being anywhere near you. He wouldn’t subject himself to that.

…

But he wants to know. What if you had some secret hobby or routine? Something that made you…a person.

Why should that matter to him!? He doesn’t give two shits about what you do. His own curiosity only further proves how offbeat you are. He certainly will not follow you and he definitely won’t care what you are doing.

…

But what if you were up to no good? What if you were stealing from the High Lord every night after he goes to sleep?

Now that he can’t allow.

Azriel emerges from the shadows, peaking out from the door frame to find you at the end of the hallway. You enter the library and shut the door closed behind you.

He slips through the hallway and into the library, careful not to make a sound.

The empty library felt cold in your wake though there was no sign of you. You weren’t sitting on the sofas or searching for a book. There is only silence in his company.

Azriel strides through each row of bookcases lined throughout the room to no avail.

And now you’ve even disappeared like a ghost.

A beam of light enters at the back of the room earning his attention. The balcony.

Azriel stealthily crosses the room, concealing himself behind the bookcase closest to the balcony.

There you were. Sitting on the marble bench, staring up at the sky. Not causing any trouble.

Well, he has his answer, he can leave. He can go about his sleepless night.

But once again he did not want to, despite those alarms going off and the growing pit deep down. He couldn’t bring himself to move.

So he didn’t for a very long time.

He only watches your ominously still figure watching the sky. You do not look away or blink or breathe it seems. Not even a twitch of the fingers.

You just cannot be of this world.

“Azriel.” You call softly.

His heart drops into the swirling void in his stomach as chills sweep across his skin and the hairs of his arm stand.

You’d sensed him there. For how long? Though he doesn’t care what you think of him, he did not need you telling anyone he’s some stalker creep.

“You can come out.”

Azriel contemplates. He can leave as he should have done an hour ago but you already know he is here. Then again, maybe if he leaves you’ll think you were mistaken.

All of those options fly out of the door when you look back, directly at him.

He winces at his lack of options and being caught. How did you even know? He’s the fucking spy master and now he can’t even hide from you?

Azriel lets out a deep exhale, not even realizing he’d been holding his breath before coming out into your full view.

You look right into his eyes as he approaches you. Each step feels like a crushing weight as he struggles to maintain his composure.

“What are you doing out here?” Azriel asks firmly, not a shred of friendliness behind the words.

You only look back to the sky.

Were you ignoring him now? After telling him to come out?

Irritation begins to fill the void in him. The audacity. HE is the one ignoring YOU.

“What are you doing out here.” A command rather than question this time.

You subtly shrug.

Azriel rolls his eyes.

For a while the two of you are silent. What is he even supposed to say to you? You are the one that called him out here.

He isn’t surprised that you hardly speak but that doesn’t change the fact that it is annoying.

“You don’t speak much.” Azriel states plainly wanting to escape the awkward, silent tension.

“That’s your perception.” You match his blunt tone provoking his wonder. How could it be his perception when you don’t speak to anyone?

“I haven’t seen within 10 feet of anyone here.”

“That’s because you disappear anytime I’m in the same room as you.”

Azriel didn’t know what to make of your straight forwardness. Though he tends to speak directly himself, he’s not fond of such attitude. But coming from you, it seems fitting. “Perhaps I simply don’t enjoy your company.”

“Curious.” You look at him, standing up and making your way back into the library. “No male has ever complained about my company.”

Azriel follows close behind, watching your every poised step.

“As a matter of fact I’ve been told I’m quite the pleasure to be around.” You glance over your shoulder. That familiar sinister delight returning to your eyes, the same look you gave him when he realized where it is you held his siphon.

Azriel nearly trips on over his own two feet. The void beginning to whirl again. He cursed himself for needed to clear his throat. “Is that so?”

You stop abruptly and pivot on your feet, coming face to chest and tilting your head back to look up at him. His stomach leaps at the sudden proximity and your intense stare. He steps back.

“With my bright and bubbling personality, how could they not?” You raise a brow.

Azriel didn’t know if it was relief from the cut tension or the actual joke or both but he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Not to mention my breasts and ass.”

Azriel’s shock couldn’t have been anymore evident. His lips part unable to form a single word, not that his brain could form a single thought.

Azriel hadn’t thought of you in any way other than suspicion but now, standing before him, he can’t help but notice your deadly beauty. The enthralling darkness dancing behind your eyes and those plump pink lips. The thin strapped shirt clinging to your ample breasts. The outline of your peaked nipples. The perfect angle he has of your soft cleavage.

“That was also a joke.” You clarify and turn on your heel continuing towards the door. “Kind of.”

It most certainly was not a joke.

The loose shorts gripping your waist do nothing to hide the outline of your backside. Each step you take further away from him only giving him a better view of the swish of your hips and the bounce of your ass.

“Goodnight, Spy Master.” You bid farewell without so much as a glance back.

.☁️🌙☁️.

Azriel couldn’t stop thinking of you, yet now it’s in whole different light. He would have never thought you to be so vulgar, in a cruel way maybe but not in a humorous way.

You’re so quiet and reserved and unsettling. He didn’t think you capable of making a joke, let alone a sexual one.

He couldn’t deny that it is a rather riveting piece of information. He should have known when you all but challenged him to reach into your pants a few month ago.

The memory of your tits sitting nice and pretty, your waist and full hips, your ass, all flood his mind.

Lying in his bed, Azriel turns onto his back, shaking the thoughts from his head.

He needs sleep. And he needs it now.

.☁️🌙☁️.

Exhaustion cannot begin to describe what Azriel felt. He needed not just to rest but recharge, and there is nothing better than laying down after a hard days work.

After what felt like forever he finally reaches his bedroom, twisting the nob and shutting the door behind him. He sighs, shutting his eyes and resting his head against the door.

“Azriel.” You call just as softly as you had earlier in the night.

Azriel whips around to find you sat on the center on his bed, feet under you and hands politely placed on your knees, as if you’d been waiting for him.

Azriel scans the room. Possibly a prank brought on by Rhysand but it’s only you in here.

“What are you doing in here?” Azriel hisses, sending a vicious sneer in your direction. And he thought ignoring him was the hight of your audacity but to enter his private quarters at such late hours?

“I haven’t been on my best behavior, have I.” You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence.

Azriel’s brow pinches. “What?”

“I’ve displeased you in some way.” You slowly stand from his bed. “I can’t have that.”

Azriel swallows hard as you inch closer with every word. “After all, I am a pleasure to be around.”

Azriel can only watch. Your shorts doing little to hide your exposed legs and soft thighs. That fucking shirt hiding your tight nipples.

You come to halt with only centimeters between you, looking up at him with that deceptively virtuous gaze.

He could smell you. An intoxicating scent of amber and jasmine. Like a garden in the fall.

Azriel’s heart thunders in his chest. Not fast but hard. He was sure not only you but everyone in the house could feel it. His whole being pulses with each thump as you reach for his chest.

“Let me be a pleasure.” Your delicate fingers just barely touches his chest, drawing a line down his chest. Then lower. And lower. And lower-

Azriels eyes widen as he snatches your hand in his. His chest heaving, trying to gulp down the air that slips away from him. You, however, seem un phased, eager, if anything. “W-what do you think you’re doing?”

The scent of his own arousal permeates the air he desperately tries to breathe.

With half lidded eyes and a slight pout of your lips, you take your wrist from his loose grip and place your palm over the back of his hand, brining it up to your cheek and leaning into it.

Azriel’s blood turns cold at how tender your touch is, gentle as the embrace of death. Your skin warms his palm as you drag his hand down the side of your neck painfully slow, his thumb tracing the column of your throat.

Gods, he wanted to bite it. To latch himself onto that spot. If it was possible to envy one’s own hand, he’d turn green.

“I see how you look at me.” Your voice low and sultry. “You despise me.”

You move his hand down your collar bone, to your chest, settling between your breast. Something deep inside Azriel twists and knots, his cold blood turns hot as it rushes into his pants.

“Let me fix it.” You groan, trailing his hand further down to your stomach. “Let me show you…”

Azriel bites the inside of his cheek to keep his own sounds at bay. His brows pinch together at the sight of you. The rise and fall of your swollen, flushed breasts. Your bottom lip trapped between your teeth and the look of pure carnal desire.

“…just how much of a pleasure I can be.” You whisper breathlessly when you lead his scared hand beneath the waistband of your shorts.

Azriel chokes back a guttural groan when his fingers reach the slick folds of your cunt. Looking into his eyes with a feral hunger, you guide his fingers in sensual circles around your most sensitive spot. Hushed whines hum from your chest, purring at his governed touch.

His middle finger twitches against your clit, testing for himself. You respond with a low moan.

Azriel’s eyes flutter shut trying to reason with himself.

This was wrong. So fucking wrong. Azriel can’t even stand the sight of you yet here he is with his hands down your pants for the second time, and he felt just as he had the first time, he wanted to ruin you.

Another flick of his fingers causes you to throw your head back.

Azriel growls. A fire ignites in his chest, coursing through every nerve of his body as he gives in to you.

His fingers take a course of their own, rubbing your center with fervor. A noise somewhere between a yelp and moan escape your parted lips. You grabbing onto his arms to steady yourself as pleasure over takes you.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” Azriel leans forward to whisper in your ear. His warm breath tickling your skin as he asks, “Who made you this wet?”

You only moan, digging your hands into his bicep.

Still massaging your clit, he brings his free hand to strike the fat of your ass earning a very loud moan.

“Tell me.”

“You!” The stinging sensation mixes with your pleasure, encouraging you further. “Azriel made me this fucking wet.”

Azriel hums, gripping your hair and tilting your head back. “Mhm. Keep being a good girl and I’ll forgive you.”

His attacks your neck, teeth clamping down hard in what he knows will scar but he didn’t care. He wanted you marked. Proof that he could take control, even over someone with such a silent attitude as yours.

You hold back a scream. As much as it hurt, he knows you like it. “Dont hold back. I want to hear the pretty noises you make.”

Azriel’s tongue laps at the column of your throat, finally nipping at the spot he craved minutes ago. Your moans vibrate against his lips.

He pulls away to look at you. Eyes shut and jaw hung in ecstasy. His cock twitches in pants at how good he can make you feel.

The sight was anything but dark. Dare he say heavenly.

Suddenly, your eyes open, fixating on his. Lust and desperation laced in your stare as you plead, “I want your fingers in me. Please, Az.”

Azriel smirks down at you arrogantly. “Yeah?” You nod frantically, your moans and pants driving him absolutely wild.

“Whatever you want.” Azriel pulls away from you, sitting at the edge on his bed, knees spread as he pats his lap. “Come here, pretty girl.”

You stand between his legs but before you could straddle him, he grabs your wrist, roughly turning your back to him.

His texture hands glide down your back, feeling every curve until he reaches your shorts, yanking them down in one swift motion and leaving your rear exposed for his viewing enjoyment.

He gathers as much of your ass in his hands as he can, squeezing, caressing and parting for an even better view. Your slit and inner thighs glistening from your wetness.

He does dare to say heavenly.

“So fucking pretty.” He leans forward, placing a soft kiss on your ass cheek and quickly slapping it right on top.

You jerk forward with an amused hum.

Azriel grabs your hip and brings you down to him. Your full weight falls onto his solid cock, strained in his leathers. He moans at the impact.

Azriel’s hands trail up from your hips, over your stomach and under your shirt and to your breasts. You whimper as his fingers lightly trace over your firm nipples and kneed at your breasts.

Azriel revels in it. The way you feel, the way he makes you feel. His lips latch to your neck sucking as he rolls your buds between his fingers.

“Azriel, please.” You breathe, writhing against him.

He groans, flicking your nipple harshly and immediately finding your center. The tip of his middle finger sliding up and down, toying with your hole.

“Please! Please put it in.” You whine, reaching up to tug at his dark locks. The sensation pushing him over the edge.

Promptly, his middle finger plunges into your cunt, pumping at a hungry pace.

“Oh, fuck! Azriel, yes!” You grip his hair stronger, receiving another painful bite and a slap on your tits in return.

Azriel adds another finger and you clench around them. “So fucking tight, angel. I bet you’ve never been fucked so full with two fingers, have you?”

You shake your head and throw it back over his shoulder when his fingers disappear in you to the knuckle.

“Can you take one more for me, angel?” Azriel hums placing sloppy open kisses to your bruised neck.

You dont respond.

“Answer me.” Azriel pinches your nipple, urging for your response.

“I…I don’t know.” You hesitate.

Azriel guides you to look at him, your face inches from his. His brows pinch and with a slightly patronizing pout he nods. “Yes you can, angel. Don’t you like how full I make you feel?”

You bite your lip and nod. “I can take it.”

“Good girl.” He breathes with a smug expression. Azriel can’t get enough of you like this. Pleading. Submissive to his every whim. The satisfaction of seeing that stoic demeanor dissolve because of him.

Azriel slides a third finger in slowly. Hells, you’re so fucking tight around his fingers, he can only imagine how you’d feel on his cock.

You release a long, aching moan and arch your back against him.

Azriel gasps at the sudden movement against his pants. It wouldn’t take more than a minute to make him explode. “F-fuck, y/n. Keep doing that.”

You grind in his lap, feeling his length throb beneath you. “Like this, Az?”

“Yes, angel. God’s, yes.” Azriel’s fingers sink into your cunt, over and over. Your screams of pleasure blend with the sopping sounds of your wet pussy.

Azriel was absolutely sure this was heaven.

“I’m so close! Mm, you gonna make a fucking mess out of me?” You rut against his cock.

“Fuck yes.” Azriel’s free arm wraps around you pressing you further into him and he fucks you with his fingers. “C’mon. Make a mess for me, angel.”

“Azriel!” That’s all it took for you to crumble in his lap. Your entire body trembles and euphoria seizes control of your body. Your screams informing all of Veleris of who made you cum so fucking good.

As you ride out your orgasm, Azriel lifts his own stuttering hips to grind against yours. The full weight of you quivering and fidgeting against him builds a blissful tension deep within him. And with the string of his name still being sung from your lips, the coiling pressure couldn’t hold anymore.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna-”

.☁️🌙☁️.

Azriel shoots straight up out of his bed and on to his feet, panting and looking around his room, illuminated with the first light of day.

But there was no one. No you.

Azriel blinks and wipes his eyes. It was a dream?

He looks around once more.

It couldn’t have been a dream. He’s dreamt of many females but never anything so…real.

He could still feel the weight of your body flushed against him. He could still feel the blissful aftermath of an orgasm.

Azriel looks down at his stained tented pants. His half hard cock still dripping on his thigh.

What the fuck was that? Why the fuck would he dream of that? Of you.

Mor? Sure. Elain? Once or twice, but you? Someone he couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with?

Azriel huffs and makes his way to his bathroom to clean up, angry with himself and his deplorable dream. A nightmare, he decides, considering it involved you.

#a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel smut #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x reader smut #acotar smut #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel angst #Spotify

[obliviouscxnt]

Nightmare Azriel x Reader

a/n: oh my god, I’m actually so shocked by the feedback from the last fic. It gave me the serotonin and motivation to write a part two :o I'm probably going to make this into a series, I have many ideas!! Maybe some smut if I'm feeling brave... thank you so much, I hope you enjoy! :))

can be read as a standalone, but without some context from pt.1 things might become confusing

synopsis: your need to help gets you into trouble

Warnings: strong(?) hints of sexual activities, minor angst, minor violence, fluff

pt. 1 | pt.3

 

In the corner of his eye, he can see you picking at your fingers. Your sharp nails do unnecessary damage to your fragile hands. 

He knew you were worried for Feyre, ever since she’d been taken to the spring court you’d been on edge. 

It went beyond a loyal subject worrying about her High Lady. You fretted for Feyre like you would Amren, or Rhys, or Mor, or Cassian.

Though it was endearing in a way, Azriel didn’t like the way that worry manifested. The way you unknowingly damaged yourself. Your bottom lip was split open from gnawing on it, the skin on your fingers was peeled back and inflamed, and dark circles found their place under your eyes from sleepless nights. Unable to really rest when your friend was in the jaws of the spring beast. 

His shadows reach for you, demanding to be with you. 

He let a few of them loose, watching as they traveled to you instantly. One settled at your hands, weaving between each of your fingers and curling around your wrist. Another rested on your shoulder, brushing your face. The others couldn’t decide where to settle, traveling over your body frantically as they tried to comfort you. 

The shadowsinger was about to pull them back, but as soon as they felt his pull they settled in whichever place they could. Nuzzling against you. Desperate to stay with you, comfort you. 

Azriel found it amusing, and so utterly relatable. 

He forces his attention back to the papers on his desk. Which was more than a struggle.

It was an impossible task, staring at building diagrams and reading reports from his spies, when the most magnificent woman he’d ever known sat not three feet from him. 

Then he felt your eyes on him, and he knew there was no point even trying. He wouldn’t be able to focus. 

He meets your gaze and arches a perfect brow. 

You wanted to ask him something. That much was obvious. But you hesitated, you didn’t know if he would say yes. 

“What is it?” 

You glanced down at your hands, then up at him, then back down at your hands. “May I go see Rhys?” Your voice is small as you ask.  

When you heard the shadowsinger sigh you knew what the answer would be. 

Azriel ran a hand through his hair as he watched you.

You had been asking that a lot recently, and at first he allowed it. He saw no harm in you sitting with his brother, helping him when he needed help, listening when he checked in on Feyre through their bond. He knew his brother didn’t mind, he understood your anxiety and shared it with you tenfold. But Rhysand had a lot to deal with, so for that reason, Azriel shook his head. 

“Rhys is very busy.” He starts, extending an open hand toward you. Smile tugging at his lips when you walk around the desk and place your hand in his. “Feyre is strong, she can handle herself.” He assures you as he pulls you to stand between his legs, letting his hands soothe your body. Letting his shadows join him.

But he can tell by how tense you were that his assurance wasn’t helping. 

His fingers thread through your hair. “You want to help Feyre, is that it?” His thumb brushed over your jaw as you nod. “Why don’t you pay her sisters a visit? I’m sure that would ease some of her stress, to know that you’re there for them like you were for her.” 

He watched some light enter your eyes and almost smiled in victory. You were so enthralled with the idea, you tried to run out of his office to visit them right at that moment. He caught you, pulling you back against him until you sat in his lap. “Tomorrow.” He breathed. 

You leaned into him, coaxed by his hands. Sighing as his mouth plants wet kisses down your neck, shivering when you feel his tongue come out to lick over your pulse.

Azriel let himself get lost in you. In feeling you against him. In bathing in your scent. 

He doesn’t let himself second guess his suggestion, even though there was a very reasonable voice in his head that was kicking him. A voice that berated him for being so foolish. That screamed to just let you see Rhys. That begged to keep you far, far away from Nesta Acheron.

But that voice is drowned out by his need for you. 

He groans when you turn around in his lap, straddling him, shimmering black dress riding up your thighs. His hands immediately find purchase on them, squeezing. While yours tangle in his hair.

You pant, lips parted as your eyes run over him. Stopping at his lips, his eyes, his mouth, his neck, the hands that squeezed your thighs when you looked at them. You were mesmerized by him. 

You needed him. Gods, you needed him.

He kissed you like a starved beast. You moaned when his tongue brushed over the roof of your mouth, eliciting a hum from him. His hands slid up to your hips so he could grind you against him, hiking your dress up with them. 

You feel him harden beneath you.

“What do you want?” He asks against your lips, kissing them again, then kissing along your jaw, and then kissing back down your neck. Latching on to the spot that had your hands gripping his hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. 

“I…” You try, but words won’t form, only sounds. 

He parts with your neck to lean his head against yours. Looking in your eyes. Pulling back a bit when you move to kiss him. Hands now holding your hips still against him, torturing you with the feeling of him pressed against you.

 Your eyes plead with him, your sharp nails almost digging into his scalp as you lost yourself, and he can’t stop the smirk of pure satisfaction from spreading across his face. “Tell me what you want.”

You shudder when you feel him twitch underneath you. “Please.” His hands squeeze your hips. “Please. Use me.” 

The groan that left his mouth had to be the most sinful thing you’d ever heard.  

*****

Anxiety chews on your mind, spits it out, and chews it back up again. You wring your shaking hands. 

Before you was the door that separated you from the Acheron sisters. 

You knew of them, knew what they were like from what Feyre had told you. And now that you were thinking about it, you didn’t want to help them. Not for their sake. 

But for Feyre… You’d started coming to terms with the fact that you’d do just about anything for her. 

However, that didn’t stop your heart from beating so fast you were afraid it would fail.

Azriel’s hands rest on your upper arms and he leans down to your ear. “Breathe.” You absentmindedly lean into him, relishing in the feeling of his lips brushing your ear. His breath fanning across your cheek.

“If you can’t handle this we’ll go back.” He says, making it very obvious that he wouldn’t mind curling back up in bed with you. You exhale a shaky breath as his hand slowly slides over your breast, your nipple hardens under the silky fabric of your dress and he traces it with his finger. You were seriously debating it. 

But your need to help in some way, to do something useful wins. 

“I can handle it.” You say, sounding not at all sure of yourself. 

But he listens, moving his hands to rest back on your arms. Thumbs drawing calm circles. 

You give yourself a moment to breathe. Leaning your head back against his chest. Feeling your stomach flip when his lips press against your head.

When you were finally ready he opened the door for you. You took one more futile deep breath, all the air in the world wouldn’t be able to tame your emotions, then walked in with a friendly smile plastered on your face. 

You immediately wished you’d accepted his offer to go back to bed when the harsh eyes of the oldest Acheron sister settled on you. There was no mistaking who was who. 

“What are you?” 

Her words were like a physical blow. Her voice, colder than ice. You step back bumping into Azriel’s chest.  

He rests a hand on your shoulder as if to say, we can still go back. But you’d made your choice, you were here to offer your help. If they didn’t want it, then fine, but you would still offer it.

“A friend,” You manage to say. Her cruel gaze felt like a physical weight on your being. So scrutinizing, so full of hate. It’d been a while since someone cast eyes like that your way. Azriel had been careful to make sure of that. “Of Feyre’s.” 

Her stare narrows on you. Drinking you in. You watch her gaze snag on your pointed teeth. You close your mouth. Whatever you were about to say dying in your throat. 

“Some friend.” 

Azriel glared at Nesta, the warning clear on his face. Say no more. He puts a hand on your lower back, guiding you to where the other sister sat, on a chair in front of a window. 

The weight of Nesta's stare never left you.

But when you see Elaine, all of it ceases to matter.

All thoughts left your brain. Not unlike how you got sometimes with Azriel—when all the pleasure became too much—but also completely different. It wasn’t Azriel guiding you now. 

It was what lived inside you, the writhing magic that was always thrumming under your skin. 

Your brain doesn’t register how the girl looks, hollow; as if someone scooped all the life out of her. Your brain doesn’t register a thing except the irresistible pull. 

You could feel it, or her, calling to you. Beckoning you closer. 

You couldn’t refuse. 

When your mind came back to your body, you stood directly in front of Elaine. Your palm cupping her face. 

Then you felt something awful slither into your head. It slipped through the crevices of your mental barriers and crawled into a dark corner of your mind. Hiding from you, even though you could feel it watching.

Nausea overcame you. You snatch your hand back like she burned you. Shuffling back toward Azriel who looked at you with concern.

Then Elaine's eyes closed. Nesta rushed to her sister as she went unconscious. Almost falling out of her chair. The older Acheron managed to catch her in time with help from Azriel’s shadows. 

You turned to Azriel. “I want to go.” Your words barely a whisper.

His eyes widen when he sees the fear on your face. The horror. His shadows encompass you, providing your body with a cover, a shield. 

“What did you do?!” Nesta shouted through pants of fatigue, having just lugged her sister to bed. You gripped Azriel’s shirt and he held you close to him as he led you out. Away from the screaming woman. “What did you do to my sister?!” 

***** 

“What happened?” 

You swallowed at your High Lord, glancing at Azriel. For what? You didn’t know. Help? Comfort maybe? Whatever it may be you didn’t receive it. All you got was a nod in Rhysand’s direction. 

So you turn back, struggling to find your words under his serious gaze. Not harsh, but very, very serious. “I don’t know. She looked so tired… I just—It felt like she was calling to me.” Trying not to think about that thing you could still feel hiding. Still, feel looking at you with eyes you couldn’t see.

He waved for you to continue. 

“She’s fine.” You say, and somehow find yourself completely sure of those words. Though you had watched her pass out with your own eyes. Knew it was your doing. 

“How do you know that? This is different. Even Azriel said he’s never seen you do something like that before.” You look down at your hands, picking at the already torn skin. 

You don’t dare look up when you feel Rhys rise from his seat. Feel him walk around his desk until he’s in front of you. It's when he speaks that you feel the need to meet his stare.

He holds a hand over your head. “May I?” 

Azriel steps forward. Looking as if he were about to protest. Rhys shoots him a look that makes him stop. 

Rhys needed to know what happened, to make sure you didn't harm his mate's sister. The bond took control of his instincts. Your word wouldn't suffice.

You’d never deny your High Lord a request. Never deny any of your friends a request. You never had before, Azriel always had to step in and do it for you. 

So when you stiffly shook your head no, well, to say they were shocked would be an understatement.

Your whole body was tense as if just the act of refusing took everything out of you. Required every bone, every muscle, and every bit of air in your body.

But you couldn’t risk that thing infecting Rhys. Not when you didn’t know what it was. Not when you could feel its hungry stare. 

You held your breath until Rhysand’s hand dropped to his side.

Your felt physically ill. The weight of what you just did settling on you. You stiffly turned to Azriel.

“I want to go.” You said for the second time that day. 

Azriel’s brows dipped as he looked at you, worry covering his features. His shadows were restless, flicking with agitation as they too struggled to see you so bothered. 

He glances at Rhys but the High Lord gives him a look of sympathy. “I need to speak with you.” 

The shadowsinger’s jaw clenched. Wanting nothing more than to refuse, to point out the state you were in even though it was as clear as day. 

But he couldn’t say no to his brother, not after all he’d done for them. 

He walks you to the office door, turning you to face him before you can leave. He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your head. His words were nothing but breath against your ear. A whisper for only you to hear. “Go to bed. I’ll join you soon.” But you didn't walk away, looking unsure, nervous. “Go.” 

Your only consolation, as you left, were the shadows that parted with him and linked with you. 

Once you were far enough down the hall the High Lord spoke. “What was she thinking?” He paced in front of his desk. “She knows her magic is dangerous… did she even read those books Helion sent?” He swallowed as he remembered the limited information those three books had, the only books that made any mention of dreamwalkers. 

“Of course, she read them, you asked her too.” Azriel said, bite in his tone. Making Rhys sigh and stop his pacing. The High Lord sends an apologetic look to his brother as he sits on the front of his desk. “She wasn’t thinking,” Azriel says after a few moments of silence. 

Rhys raised a brow, silently telling him to elaborate. 

The shadowsinger leans back, remembering that look on your face. A look he’d seen many times, but never in a public setting, and you never moved on your own.  “She was in a trance.”

“Elaine could’ve done something to her.” Rhys thinks aloud, making Azriel straighten. 

Did she curse you? They still had no idea what gifts the cauldron bestowed upon the Acheron sisters. The last thing he wanted was for you to be on the receiving end of those gifts. 

Both Illyrian men sat in worry. 

“I’m sorry, I suggested she visit them. I thought maybe she’d click with them like she did Feyre.” Azriel says, running a hand down his face. 

Rhys shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I know she wants to help. And not everyone can be as charming as Feyre.” At that, the brothers shared a strained smile. 

“How is she?” 

Rhys let out a deep breath as he picked imaginary lint off his clothes. “Alive.” 

Azriel couldn’t imagine how he’d act if you were in enemy territory, the thought making him tense, body itching to be near you. He’d die before he’d let that happen. 

“She’ll be home soon.” Azriel offers Rhys the words of comfort, even though they wouldn't do much.

Before Rhys could reply shadows scurried under the door rushing to Azriel.

The shadowsinger’s face went pale at their whispers. He shot up from his seat. “[name].” 

Then a loud bang was heard followed by a scream of bloody murder. 

The two males were rushing out of the room and running through the halls of the house within a split second. Somewhere along the way Cassian had joined them, shirtless and sweaty. Having rushed out of the training room the moment he heard the bang.

More bangs sound, but none as loud as the first one. And no more screams follow.  

Azriel found himself wishing for you to scream. If you were screaming you were breathing. 

He burst through the door of your shared chambers, almost knocking it down. He didn't stop to stare at the sight before him like his brothers did. There was no time to pause, not when you were being shoved into the tub by Hybern soldiers, their jagged nails gashing your beautiful skin. Their faces were unnatural and barely formed. Some were faceless, just flat skin and dark empty holes where their eyes and mouths should've been. 

Stood behind you was the disfigured form of the King of Hybern himself. His body was reconstructed by the nightmare, making his fae features more monstrous. More fitting for his character.

The evil king's smile stretched from ear to ear as you thrashed under the cold water. 

Azriel shoved his way through, ripping you from their arms and dragging you out of the tub. But the soldiers didn’t stop. Still reaching for you with their long slender fingers. 

Tears flowed from your closed eyes, your body twitching and shaking as you were tortured both in your mind and outside it. 

“Rhys!” Azriel shouted springing the High Lord into action. He rushed over, dodging the grabbing arms before setting both hands on either side of your head and forcing you to wake. 

Your eyes snapped open, gulping in as much air as possible. The figures dissipated into thin air. Like a flame being snuffed out. 

You squirmed away from the hands of your High Lord. Pushing against the firm body you adored so much.

You grabbed Azriel, holding him tight. So tight he wouldn’t be able to leave you again. Too afraid to worry about your bare body and the fact that both Cassian and Rhysand could see. Too afraid to notice the other person who stood at the doorway with wide eyes. Too afraid to do anything but hold him.

“Shhh. I’m here now. I’m here.” He held you tighter as your body shook with silent sobs. “I’m here. I’m here.” 

You know what happened now. What that thing was. Gripping Azriel tighter as the knowledge weighed on your brain. 

You tensed when he lifted your shivering body into the outstretched towel Cassian held. Azriel pulls you close to him when you recoil away from his brother's gentle touch.

Cassian watched Azriel wrap the towel around you. Heart heavy as you clung to his brother. A look of pure dread etched on your face, accompanied by a stream of never-ending tears. 

 You’re vaguely aware of Rhys rummaging through your drawers in the background. Vaguely aware of Azriel lifting you once more. Cradling you against him as he carried you to the bed. 

He took the medical supplies from Rhys and then asked his brothers to leave. They hesitantly obliged, taking the shocked Nesta Acheron with them and closing the slightly damaged door.

He lays you down on the bed, backing up a bit to open the first aid kit but you lurch for him. Arms tightening around his neck. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He says, wishing he never had to say such words to you. “I’m right here with you.” Feeling his chest split in half when you reluctantly let him go. Bottom lip quivering. 

His hands are softer than usual as they patch you up. Frown deepening at every single scratch, and bruise he saw. His fingers brush over an already forming bruise on your waist. Bile rose in his throat as the image of those horrid hands grabbing and piercing your smooth skin filled his mind.

“I took it from her.” 

Your broken confession drew his attention away from the bruise and to your scared eyes. He felt helpless as he stared into them, he should've never left you. He cradled your face, thumbing away your tears only for more to take their place. He brushed those away too. 

“That nightmare. I took it from her.” 

next→

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #rhys acotar #nesta archeron #azriel x you #cassian acotar

[prythianpages]

Lay All Your Love On Me | Cassian x Reader

summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.

warnings: mild angst; smut at the end; basically, mutual jealousy

a/n: this was inspired by ABBA's song. I'm working on a series where I dedicate a song to each of the ACOTAR men and you can find the masterlist here. I feel like this is borderline crack at some points tbh and probably the longest one shot I've ever written. Also, the amount of times I've rewritten this is insane so I hope you like this final version ❤

Adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind becomes your companion, offering a resistance that you always find yourself craving. It caresses your skin, leaving a bittersweet ache. Running is the closest feeling to flying. Though your wings, tucked behind you, remain, they are rendered useless and forever will be. Those sick Illyrian males, paid off by your own brother, made sure of that.

Sometimes, you wish they would’ve just sloughed them off. An Illyrian with no wings is a tragedy but an Illyrian with useless wings is a devastating tragedy. A fate that, unfortunately, all Illyrian females have to endure.

Heated frustration surges within you, spurred on by the luminous blue hues radiating from the siphons encircling your wrists. You shake your head and take deep breaths because you can not let those triggering thoughts win. You can’t let them win. The primal thud of your heart urges you to push forward and–

“Fuck, marry, kill.”

“Cassian,” you nearly hiss, though the flutter in your chest betrays you. 

“Come on,” he says, a grin playing on his lips as he matches your pace. “Me, Az, and Rhys. Go!”

You slow down your pace to shoot him a sidelong glance and pivot, turning to run the opposite direction. Heat rises to your cheeks. You blame it on your exercise. 

“We played this last night.”

Undeterred, Cassian picks up his pace to stay ahead of you, running backwards with ease. “And you didn’t answer me.”

As you both rounded a corner, someone bumped into you. Your steps faltered slightly before you caught your own balance. 

“Oops. Sorry, didn’t–”

The Illyrian male who collided with you didn’t even have time to finish his apology, as insincere as it was. Cassian shoved him, sending the male plummeting to the ground with a growl. You swear you hear him choke on dirt.

“Watch it, asshole.”

When Cassian turns back to you, you arch a brow at him and he gives you a nonchalant shrug. You both know that male intentionally bumped into you. As one of the few Illyrian females who has defied tradition and trained extensively, the disrespect constantly thrown at you is no surprise. Though you’re no longer fazed by it, you can’t say the same for Cassian.

His gaze softens and grin returns, the wind tousling his dark hair as he maintains his backward stride. “Now, where were we?”

“Fine,” you say with a huff.

It’s not in Cassian’s nature to give up. You’ve played this game multiple times, introduced by Mor, with the inner circle on drunken nights. You were always quick with your answers but not this time. Not when your options were three of your close friends and among them, there was one you secretly or maybe not so secretly harbored feelings for.  That and the lack of liquid courage you usually have at your side when playing.

“Fuck Azriel.”

Cassian’s steps come to a stop and so do yours, albeit reluctantly. There’s a glint in his hazel eyes as he looks at you. “I’m going to tell him.”

“Go ahead,” you reply because you don’t care if the Shadowsingers knows. He’s the safest choice of them all and he wouldn’t let this stupid game get to his head unlike Cassian. “You know that’d be your answer too.”

Both you and Cassian share a look because you’re not wrong.

Then, you both are turning your heads to find the Shadowsinger. Azriel stands at the far end of the training grounds, engaged in the rhythmic lifting of weights. Shirtless. The distance between you two and him is vast, rendering any audible communication impossible. However, the subtle play of shadows around his ears catches your attention, and as if sensing your gazes, he turns, narrowing his eyes at both you and Cassian with an uncanny perceptiveness.

Caught red-handed, both you and Cassian turn your heads away. He looks at you again. “So,” he starts once more and you bite back the urge to groan. At this moment, you’re almost inclined to reveal that you’d like to do all three to the Illyrian male in front of you.

 “Who will you be marrying? Me or Rhys?”

It’s as if he heard his name being called. Rhysand prods gently at the shields of your mind and when you allow him in, you know he relayed the same message to Cassian and Azriel. You both head over to the sparring grounds, where Azriel is already waiting for you. He throws a sword to you and then to Cassian.

Cassian wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you slap his arm. He pinches your side in retaliation, a reminder that you’re not going to live this one down. He moves into position and you mirror him.

He lifts his sword, feigning a lunge that you counter with a swift parry. Your movements are both graceful and calculated, a testament to the years of training under his guidance. Meanwhile, Azriel circles around you both, a silent spectator.

Cassian’s strikes intensify, growing more precise every time. Your swords clash, ringing in the air. But despite your skill, Cassian is stronger, more experienced. Seizing an opportune moment, he lunges with a force that sends you stumbling backward. Your sword clatters to the ground as you find yourself seated on the training grounds.

"Did I serve?" Cassian smirks, offering a mock salute, his muscles flexing in a playful display. "Or did I serve?"

He twirls his sword with a flourish, unaware of the glare you shoot his way. With a determined huff, you gather yourself, reaching for your fallen weapon and swiftly rising to your feet. In a strategic move, you deliver a swift kick, sweeping Cassian off his feet and onto his back.

With a triumphant grin, you step forward, placing a boot on his chest to keep him on the ground. You press your weight on him teasingly, knowing that Azriel is not the only one watching you two anymore. Hazel eyes sparkle back at you with a mixture of pride and a subtle undertone, a hint of something more lingering beneath the surface, as your sword hovers just above his neck. It brings forth an unspoken tension between you both and if you hadn’t blinked, you wouldn’t have missed the way Cassian licks his lips as he looks up at you.

"You got served."

Cassian laughs as you drop your sword and lift your boot. You don’t bother to offer him a hand, wanting to bask in your victory as much as possible but much to your dismay, Azriel helps him up.

Thank you for humbling him.

You turn around to see Rhysand. His lips purse, suppressing his amusement. His eyes become unreadable as he dons his High Lord mask. A palpable aura of immense power radiates from him. 

Beside him, stands another male, whose presence commands just as much attention as Rhysand. His skin is a rich brown and hair white. You’ve never met him before but you know who he is as Rhysand had informed you of his visit. It’s why you were conveniently training in Windhaven, despite your preference for the training grounds atop the House of Wind.

The three of you greet Rhysand first before bowing your heads in respect to the High Lord of the Summer Court.

“This is Cassian, general commander of my armies. This is y/n, one of our great Illyrian warriors and this is Azriel, my spymaster. They are all well equipped and are looking forward to working with your soldiers for the next two weeks.”

**

You’ve rarely traveled outside of the Night Court. You weren't a high fae like Mor or Rhysand so you couldn’t winnow and after the clipping of your wings, you couldn’t fly like Cassian or Azriel. So your friends were your main means of transportation and you were looking forward to working with High Lord Nostrus’s soldiers as it was a means for you to get to explore another one of Prythian’s lovely courts.

But now that you’re here, in their training grounds, you’re no longer looking forward to being here for the next two weeks.

Not when one particularly strikingly beautiful female soldier has set her eyes on Cassian and certainly not when there’s an unfamiliar burning resentment in your chest too strong to ignore. It flares every time her gaze or touch lingers too long. By the Cauldron, since when did every woman you see become a potential threat with Cassian? He is your friend.

A reminder that stings as much as the intensity of the burning feeling coursing through you. Though, you’ve never felt this way before, you realize that you’ve been more sensitive in anything Cassian these past couple of months–since starfall. It’s as if he casted a spell on you, one where you can only think about him. He’s your every waking thought and lingers as your final thought before sleep.

The feeling in your chest flares to a blazing fire when you overhear him praise the female soldier and the wooden sword splinters in your grasp, falling to the ground. 

This is going to be a long two weeks.

“Are you jealous?” Azriel muses beside you.

“Me?” You say with a huff, kicking the evidence of the broken sword away. Of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by Azriel, the skilled spymaster. The corner of his lips quirk up but you insist. “Jealous? Never.”

You send an amused Azriel a glare before picking up another practice sword. Determined to not let your jealousy get in the way, you engage yourself in training the small group assigned to you. You were here for a reason and you’d give the soldiers under your command your all.

**

After a full afternoon of training, you were eager to clean the dirt and sweat off your skin. You were also eager to distance yourself as much from Cassian and that female before you did something you’d regret. Your bath worked wonders to ease every tense muscle. If you hadn’t been invited by High Lord Nostrus to dinner, you would’ve basked in the warmth of the water a little longer. The sound of waves crashing soothes you as you make your way to your bed, ruffling your damp hair with a towel.

Nestled adjacent to Cassian's and Azriel's quarters, your room stands vast and breathtaking. It’s also missing an entire wall. In its place, vines adorned with blooming dahlias weave along the room's edges, seamlessly bridging the gap between the interior and the great sea outdoors. 

Your attention gravitates towards the bed, adorned in the softest silks, a sanctuary you can’t wait to sink into. Atop it rests a box, concealing an invitation to dinner and an outfit that differs greatly from your Illyrian leathers.

You find a dress. A pale blue masterpiece with a daring plunging neckline and high slits. You’ve never worn anything like it. The fabric is soft and weightless, its wispy texture feels like a gentle sea breeze caressing your skin with every step. You appreciate that it was backless to accommodate your wings.

Sitting down at the vanity, the jewelry that was in the box sparkles back up at you. You're touched by the High Lord’s gesture but you’re also wary of all his gifts. You settle on the most simplest of jewelry–diamond earrings and a sapphire necklace that reminds you of the siphons you wear. You have three in total but the one wrapped around your wrist is the only one you keep with you at all times. You save the other two for when you’re training or fighting to help you control your power.

As you step out of your room, Cassian and Azriel's eyes are drawn to you. You smile at them in greeting. Cassian's gaze lingers, a silent appreciation etched in every curve and contour he not so discreetly takes in. Warmth prickles at your skin, and an inexplicable spark ignites within your chest in response.

Azriel clears his throat, amused eyes dancing between you two. “Shall we?”

Cassian, as if emerging from a trance, regains his composure and grins at you. He extends his arm and you gratefully hook yours through his as he leads the way down the hall. You notice that he also switched his leathers into something more befitting the Summer court’s warmth. He wears dark navy linen pants that match Azriel’s but unlike the dark shirt the Shadowsinger wears, he chose a lighter colored one. The fabric is nearly see through, offering a teasing peek at the tattoos embellishing his chest and the defined muscles that lie beneath.

You feel his gaze on you as you walk beside him that prompts you to look up at him in question. He takes a moment to respond and finally with a sheepish smile says, “you smell nice.”

“Oh, thanks. I used coconut soap that was left in my bathroom,” you respond, a tinge of confusion and subtle disappointment coloring your words. At least it was an actual compliment unlike last starfall when all he said was “you look different.” Yet, it embarrassingly still had the same effect, leaving you blushing. 

Azriel, walking behind you, can't help but let out a snort. Idiots, he thinks to himself. His shadows agree.

**

There’s a wide assortment of delicious food laid out for you all. Your lips quirk up when you catch the way Cassian’s eyes light up at the sight. You take the seat next to him and Azriel the seat across from you. High Lord Nostrus sits at the head of the table, gesturing for you all to dive in. With a snap of his fingers, the golden chalices in front of you fill with a sweet wine.

“I appreciate you all for your efforts in helping strengthen my armies.”

Cassian’s mouth was full of food and Azriel brought his drink to his lips, not keen on the idea of making small talk with the High Lord. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at your male companions, you muster a smile and turn to Nostrus instead.

“I believe we should be the ones thanking you for being such a gracious host. As emissaries of our esteemed High Lord, it is our sincere desire that our efforts not only strengthen your armies but also fortify the bonds of alliance between the courts of Summer and Night.”

“Of course.” Nostrus's turquoise eyes study you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze settling on your wings. The instinct to protectively tuck them in tighter behind you flares, a vulnerable self-consciousness settling in. "From my understanding, it is not common for an Illyrian female to train and fight. Am I right?"

“Yes, you are correct. But I am working closely with my High Lord to rectify that.”

Cassian, sensing your unease, swallows his food, and a reassuring hand finds its place on your thigh, offering a comforting squeeze. You're familiar with Cassian's expressive and caring nature through touch. However, his simple and sweet gestures, such as the way he’s touching your thigh right now, sends your heart racing instead.

"I watched you from afar this afternoon. You took down some of my best soldiers with ease," Nostrus remarks, and a gentle breeze from the nearby sea courses through the open dining room, sending a shudder through your wings. His perceptive eyes catch the movement. "Your wings are different."

The hand on your thigh tightens, mirroring the constriction in your throat.

"High Lord–" Cassian begins, a subtle warning threaded through his otherwise light tone.

Nostrus raises his hand. "I mean no harm. Truly." 

His gaze remains fixed on you as he continues, "As you see, we pride ourselves on every soldier, regardless of gender. Anyone who swears loyalty to this court is held in great esteem. I protect them as much as they would protect my court. While I do not know your story, I now know your worth, and if the Night Court is not able to appreciate you, then–"

"The Night Court appreciates her just fine," Cassian interrupts, a protective edge slicing through his words. He hates Nostrus’s accusatory tone and ignores the warning look Azriel sends his way.

You place a hand over Cassian’s but keep your eyes on Nostrus. “You flatter me, High Lord,” you manage to say with a smile. “Though my scars may say otherwise, I can assure you that my High Lord treats me well. In fact, High Lord Rhysand is working on banning the practice of clipping wings so our future generations will not know the horrors enacted under previous rulers…”

**

Your wings, draped behind you, bear the burden of your trauma–the betrayal of your brother. You hate how sensitive you are at the mere mention of them. You wipe hastily at your eyes. Cassian, who refused to part ways with you at your door, stands silently beside you. Your haunting memories store themselves back into the depths of your mind as his movements catch your attention. It’s strange but comforting, the way he always knows when you don’t want to talk and are in need of a distraction instead.

But your cheeks heat up because you’re unsure if this distraction is a good idea. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Cassian grins at you as he continues stripping himself of his clothes. “I’m going for a swim.”

He winks at you as he kicks his pants off, leaving him in only his boxer briefs that are clinging to him in a way that makes your mouth nearly water. You pull your gaze away, hating the way your mind wants to drift to devious thoughts because you know what lies underneath. You’ve seen him in his full glory far too many times than you’d like to admit–each one of them on accident.

Your heart flutters madly against the fragile cage of your chest and you press a hand against it as if that would do anything to ease your racing heart. Because Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. 

But you did.

He was your mentor before he became your friend and each passing year since then seemed to usher in a quiet surrender. Almost as if every step was an unspoken agreement with your heart, blurring in between the fine line of friendship and something else. You navigated the staircase of emotions, unaware, until you stood near the bottom. Instead of gracefully reaching the last step, the sudden realization of your feelings felt like a forceful tumble, leaving you to hit the ground and boy did you hit it hard.

The sound of a joyful splash resonates through the air, harmonizing with the playful melody of droplets that dance against your bare legs. You shoot a glare Cassian’s way, even though you didn’t mind, and you can’t bring yourself to care when he flicks a middle finger at you in response. You’re far too used to them to be bothered. Realizing that the water felt nice and warm, you nestle yourself on the edge of the floor. You hike your dress up and then dip your legs into the soothing waters.

Bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight, Cassian floats on his back, allowing his wings to carry him through the soft waves. Your gaze lingers on him, tracing the moonlit contours of his muscles. Another splash pulls you out of your trance and this time, the droplets reach the thin fabric of your dress.

“Come on, bibble!” Cassian exclaims.

Your glare returns, irritation flickering in your eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that!”

His grin widens, undeterred. “Won’t you join me?”

You respond with a swift kick, creating a splash that dances towards him. Regret settles in immediately as his eyes light up in the moonlight, holding mischief, as he swims toward you.

“Bibble’,” he nearly purrs, somehow making the stupid nickname sound downright sinful. He braces his hands on either side of you, the muscles of his arms flexing. His chest brushes against your legs and all you can think about is how nice he feels so close to you. “Why won’t you join me?”

You’re looking anywhere but him. “I don’t feel like it.”

Cassian hums, his thoughtful gaze lingering for a moment longer than you'd expect. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding when he turns his head. It’s a short lived moment of relief because in a heartbeat, he pulls your legs from underneath you and drags you into the water with him. You’re splashing and writhing and like an idiot, your mouth opens in panic.

Cassian's strong arms swiftly encircle you, pulling you up from the water's depths. As you resurface, you're coughing and sputtering, water droplets cascading down your face. He chuckles while you hit his chest. 

"I can't swim, you idiot!" 

"Relax," Cassian laughs, his hands holding your hips firmly to keep you afloat with him. His expression, though soft, morphs into something more serious. "I’ve got you. I always will.”

His words unrattle something deep within you and you can’t move, can’t think properly. You can only feel. Your mind goes blank and eyes grow distant as you’re brought back to the night he first said those words. Right after he found you laying in a pool of your own blood. It was the night your wings were clipped. A hand reaches out to caress your face and his fingers rest on your chin, directing your focus to him. 

Tears threaten the corners of your eyes. The desire to avert your gaze is strong, but he doesn't permit it. He needs you to answer him. "You know that, right?"

A breath catches in your throat before you finally manage to whisper, "Yeah."

Cassian's lips form a rare, softer smile. He draws you closer until you can feel his breath, sense his warmth. He kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer and when he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. A thumb brushes gently against your cheek. His gaze dips to your lips and absentmindedly, his thumb slowly traces along your bottom lip. There’s a faraway look in his eyes as he’s lost in contemplation.

Your heart is roaring in your ears and there’s something singing madly in your chest because he’s never touched you like this before. Tell him. Your breath is shaky when you speak. "Cas?"

He holds his gaze to your lips, allowing the soft rocking of a wave to push him closer to you. "Yes?"

Suddenly, the night sky bursts into a kaleidoscope of colors. The unexpected spectacle and the resonating boom startles you, and on instinct, you find refuge in the safety of Cassian's embrace. If he weren’t caught up in the heat of the moment, he would’ve teased you for the way you are clinging madly onto him, legs and arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Wow," you exhale, the initial shock giving way to a relaxed sense of awe.

The fireworks continue to bloom overhead, their vibrant hues reflecting in your wonderstruck eyes. You gradually unwrap your legs from around Cassian, and your arms loosen their hold around his neck. Yet, he maintains a firm grip on your hips.

“Beautiful.”

You hum in agreement, and when you turn back to Cassian, you realize his gaze has never wavered from you throughout the entire display. "What were you going to say?"

"What?"

"What were you going to say earlier…"

"Oh, that," you stammer, panic subtly seeping in, eyebrows furrowing slightly. The courage you once possessed to voice your feelings has dissipated in the wake of the unexpected interruption. “Um, can you teach me how to swim?”

His gaze lingers on you. It’s as if he knows those were not the words you were going to say but he doesn’t push you on it. “Sure,” he says instead and clears his throat, looking away. “But maybe another night?”

“Why?”

You regret your question as soon as you ask it, eyes widening when you feel why. There’s something hard poking at your stomach. You freeze up, not knowing what to do, inadvertently making matters worse. Though the night is dark, the moon glows bright enough for you both to notice your peaked nipples as the thin light fabric of your dress is completely see through in the water.

“Stop staring!” You cry out, using one of your hands to splash water onto him. If he weren’t your lifeline, the only thing keeping you afloat in these deep waters, you would’ve shoved him under water.

Cassian snaps out of it with a flinch, blinking away the salty droplets of water that splashed into his eyes. “I was looking respectfully!”

“Respectfully my ass!”

“I mean, I could look at that too.”

You shoot him a glare, hating the way his words have your insides in a frenzy. He doesn’t seem to care about his obvious arousal poking at you and you don’t have it in you to tease him as you’re desperately trying to hide yours, praying that the vast sea surrounding you is enough to mask your scent. Your hands are grasping out for the vines that run along the edge of the tiles as soon as you can reach them, using them to guide you back into the safety of your room.

You pause before you hoist yourself back up, turning to look at a clearly amused Cassian. 

“Turn around.”

“Oh, come on,” he chuckles but saves you further embarrassment by doing as you asked. You wait until his back is fully turned to you, wings flaring out behind him and spraying you with sea water on purpose, to hoist yourself up into your room. Once you’re on your feet, you pull at one of the many sheets on your bed, wrapping it snug around your exposed body.

“You can turn back around now.” 

“You can look as much as you want, bibble.” He tells you though your gaze remains fixed on the seashell painting on one of your walls. Your mind is racing and if he asked you what colors were on the painting, you would fail miserably in answering him.  “Disrespectfully too.”

You can hear his agonizingly slow footsteps as he makes his way to the door, not bothering to pick up the clothes he left sprawled all over your floor.  “Get out,” you nearly growl at him, not caring anymore, as you turn around and shove at his back. Because if he doesn’t leave soon, you’re sure you’ll lose your self control.

“Mother’s tits, y/n! I’m going!” He exclaims in protest with a grin evident in his tone.

“Well, go faster!” You huff at him, hands still pressing against his back. “I’m.Tired.”

Tired of holding back your emotions, more like it. As soon as he steps out your door, you’re slamming it shut before he can catch a glimpse of your flustered face.

“Sweet dreams, bibble.”

Leaning against the door, you take a moment to catch your breath as Cassian's deep laughter echoes through the halls. You close your eyes, attempting to rein in the whirlwind of emotions surging within you. It’s not the first time Cassian’s teased you and it won’t be the last and you’re certainly not the only one he flirts with. The female soldier from earlier being a prime example of that.

You know he means no harm by it. Yet, his teasing stings. Because you want it to be real, for him to mean every flirtatious gesture and word. You want him to like you and only you.

**

Nostrus's attempts to entice you into staying in his court become increasingly overt with each passing day. Every evening unveils a new gown adorned with matching jewelry and shoes. Precisely at the stroke of ten, the night sky ignites in a display of vibrant fireworks dedicated to the three of you but when you commented the red ones were your favorite, you note more shades of reds lighting up the night skies. Each morning, a charming arrangement of summer flowers graces your presence. Even the soldiers in your training group can't help but notice the High Lord's watchful gaze whenever he deigns to join them.

Azriel finds the spectacle amusing, always the silent observer to any unfolding drama. However, Cassian is less entertained. During your nightly debriefs with Rhysand, he consistently raises the issue and you’ve noticed that during training, he sticks closer to you. 

None of you bring up the heated moment you shared on your first night in Summer. It’s almost as if it didn’t happen at all and you’re not surprised. While it meant something to you, you know it meant nothing to him.

The female soldier, Olianna, you reluctantly learned her name, is as persistent with him as Nostrus is to you. You’re nearing the end of your first week when the female soldier and a couple of others join your nightly dinner with Nostrus and tonight, in her ruby red dress, she looks devastatingly beautiful. She takes the seat beside Cassian. Your unassigned but assigned spot. You begrudgingly sit beside Azriel instead, who is quick to raise a brow at you.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he replies and when you kick his leg under the table, there’s the faintest of a coy smile on his lips.

You barely even touch your plate. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and it’s not from the food. Cassian has barely even looked at you, engrossed in what appears to be a hilarious conversation with Olianna. You’re thankful when Nostrus excuses you all from dinner, quick to rise from your seat.

“Y/N, may I have a word?” Nostrus calls to you with a smile and when Cassian’s head perks up, finally sparing you a second of his attention, he adds: “In private.”

**

As you make your way back to your room, after a pointless conversation with Nostrus, your steps come abruptly to a halt. Your heart quickens and stomach tightens as you spot Cassian and Olianna down the hall.

Olianna’s hands rest on Cassian’s arms as she looks up at him. Her back is pressed against the wall. He leans down to whisper something that you can’t discern from your distance. It has her giggling and the sound is like a painful stab to your heart. They’re so, so close. That familiar ache settles in your chest, pushing down on you so harshly you can barely breathe. 

How desperately you wish to trade places with her and maybe that could’ve been you, if you had given in to his teasing the other night. While he’d give his body to you, you know his heart would not fall so easily such as the way yours did. Cassian is a true heartthrob, a man who effortlessly captivates the hearts of many but never the one to give his. Why would you be an exception?

You try to push away your unease but fail miserably when they walk further down the hall and disappear around a corner. Doubt begins to creep in, seeping into your bones with a terrifying chilling fear. Maybe, just maybe, there is something more between them and you had lost a battle only you were aware of fighting.

Tears burn at your eyes and as you hear the door shut behind him, you feel your heart shatter at the images that flood your mind. Of him kissing her, touching her and–Stop! 

You’re running blindly to your room, too caught up in your emotions to realize your mistake. Azriel blinks at your sudden entrance, seated on his bed. However, the distress etched across your face propels him to throw his book aside and jump to his feet. Shadows flit towards you, brushing against your exposed skin and he lets out a small exhale in relief when they report no injuries.

"Should I get Cas?" Azriel offers, eyes widening slightly as concern etches its way onto his features.

Your hand reaches out, stopping him before he can leave the room. "No."

He looks at you helplessly. He’s seen you cry before but Cassian was always there in those moments. Yes, Azriel regards you as a good friend–you’ve trained with him for many years alongside Cassian. He’d happily tend to your physical injuries because it was something he was capable of but the depth of your current pain is something he is unsure how to navigate. Something only Cassian uniquely understands.

"Okay," Azriel says slowly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "What do you need?"

Frustration colors your attempt to wipe away the tears, and a sniffle escapes you. You’ve never felt so small, so fragile and as Azriel watches you break in front of him, realization dawns on him. Something must’ve happened between you and Cassian and his mouth parts to ask but you beat him to it.

"I need you to teach me how to swim." 

**

The next morning you can’t bring yourself to meet Cassian’s gaze. Images of him with Oliana flood your mind every time you cast a glance in his direction and the ache in your chest resurfaces. It’s irrational, you know. He’s not at fault for your feelings. After all, you’re just a friend to him. You have no claim to his affection, even though every fiber of your being yearns for it.

You are the problem.

When he reaches out, his hand lightly grasping your arm, you muster only a feeble greeting. You hear the concern in his voice as he asks what's wrong.

"Nothing," you reply, forcing a smile. "I'm just tired."

You feel the weight of his gaze burning into you as you head over to your group. He casts a glance toward Azriel in silent questioning but the Shadowsinger simply shakes his head. 

**

The sun bathes Summer’s training grounds in a warm glow and sweat clings to your skin as you show one of your soldiers a delicate maneuver with your sword that Illyrians favor during battle.

As your gaze lifts with your sword, you catch a glimpse of Cassian and Oliana sparring. Your chest tightens when you can’t help but notice their proximity to one another. The sweet sound of her laughter follows shortly after and the tightening in your chest is replaced with a burning fire.

“I don’t think I’m doing it right. Can you teach me again?”

“Of course.”

Cassian's gaze briefly meets yours, and a sudden rush of emotion courses through you. You’re quickly averting your eyes, attempting to feign disinterest. You tell yourself you're no longer watching them, but deep down, your mind is painting vivid pictures, imprinting scenes of Cassian with her. 

However, this time, it's not sadness that simmers within. It’s a burning anger and your siphons flare. Cassian is free to do whatever he pleases in his spare time but during training? When you’re working and glaringly right in front of you?

Olianna’s laughter rings out again, the sound mingling with the clash of steel. Another pang of envy stabs through your chest, sharper than the blade in your hand. 

“Like this?”

“Yeah, you got it, sweetheart.”

Your blood runs cold, sending shivers down your spine yet, there’s an undeniable blaze burning fiercely within your chest. It’s a possessive fire, a primal instinct screaming “mine” in the depths of your very being. Why does she get a sweet nickname and you a stupid one? Why is he so gentle in training her when he was harsh with you?

“That’s it,” you hiss under your breath, looking back at your group. “I’m going to show you how a fight is won.”

Tightening your grip on your sword, you nearly stomp your way to Cassian. Azriel’s head perks up from where he stands, eyes widening for a fleeting moment as he catches the glow of your siphons. “Y/n, what are–”

“Stay out of it!” You exclaim, pointing your sword at him. The sharp blade teases at his throat and he falters. His shadows whisper to him in warning and he holds his hands up in surrender, catching something flickering in your eyes.

Cassian and Oliana turn their heads at the commotion. She instinctively takes a step behind Cassian and your jaw clenches at the sight. He doesn’t seem to notice it though, attention solely focused on you.

 “What’s the matter, bibble?”

 You point your sword at him. “You.”

“Me?” He responds, a bewildered expression crossing his face. However, he remains unfazed as your sword points directly at his chest. 

“You’ve gone soft, General.” you tell him, inclining your head towards Oliana and you can’t bring yourself to care if your emotions seep out. The envy is coursing through you like an unrelenting fire. “How is she to hone in her skills when she spends most of her training laughing and batting her pretty eyelashes at you?”

Cassian lets out a chuckle. It’s been years since you’ve referred to him by his title. His hazel eyes take you in, sparkling at you with something you can’t discern. He can read the challenge in your eyes and when he finally spares a glance to the female behind him, he turns back to you. His fingers grasp at your blade carefully, lowering your sword so he can take a step forward. 

“She’s not ready to be challenged.”

You smirk at him, standing your ground. “A soldier is never fully prepared for battle.”

Cassian takes another step forward and though your sword lowers further, your grip on the hilt tightens. “And a General knows when it’s best for their soldiers to refrain from entering the battlefield.”

You take pleasure in the way Oliana huffs out indignantly from behind him.

You arch an eyebrow at him in challenge. Deep down, you’re aware nothing good is going to come from this but your Illyrian blood craves an outlet for the pent-up emotions that have been brewing for many years. 

“You fight me then,” you demand and you can feel the simmering fire between you intensifying. You welcome it, almost seeking the chaos it promises. "And don't you dare go soft on me."

His pupils flare and a sly smirk curls upon his lips. “I don’t think you can handle me.”

“Lay it all on me.”

**

Two blood rubies, sinister in their crimson glow, glisten back at you, creating a dance of hues that pulse and flicker with an inner fire. One for Cassian. One for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach and you want to cry.

This is all your doing. Your fault. 

Cassian, however, does not regard the rubies sent from the Summer Court with the same gravity. "Might as well put these beauties to use. I’m sure it would look stunning on a necklace. Maybe, even a ring,” he quips as he picks his up, hazel eyes sparkling with mirth.

You immediately sense that nothing good is going to come from this–the same way you did before the two of you accidentally destroyed a building. He turns to you and gets down on one knee. There’s a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he looks up at you.

“Marry me?" 

A rush of heat floods your face, and your eyes instinctively seek out Rhysand, finding him far from amused. He's fuming with a quiet rage, his gaze icy and piercing. You quickly avert your eyes, shifting your attention back to the Illyrian male now kneeling before you. You nudge his knee with your leg, ignoring the twinge of hurt at the expense of his joke.

"Get up, Cas.”

"Say yes.”

"Get up.”

“You think this is funny??”

You flinch at the sharpness of Rhysand’s tone and Cassian stands with a sigh. His hand brushes against yours but you don’t dare take it. You don’t deserve it. It’s only been hours since your abrupt return from Summer–since your heated fight sent an entire building crumbling into rubble. If Azriel hadn’t used his shadows to return you home immediately after, you’re not sure you’d be alive right now.

“I’m so sorry, Rhys,” you say,  lowering your head and Rhysand’s gaze softens at the nervous fidgeting of your hands. “It’s all my fault.” 

“No, it’s mine.” Cassian steps forward, hand resting on your waist to gently push you back behind him as he takes full responsibility. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

“Cas, I’m the one who challenged you.”

He ignores you. “It was my blast that sent that building, as weak as it already was, to crumble down.”

Rhysand lets out a deep sigh. He leans back into his seat, fingers rubbing at his forehead at the images Azriel provides. He finds that you both are equally at fault. They’re complete wreck less idiots,  Rhysand groans into the Shadowsinger’s mind.

I know.  There’s a hint of amusement in Azriel’s response.

Running a hand down his face in exhaustion, Rhysand looks at both you and Cassian. 

You stand there, still behind Cassian, anxious as you await your impending punishment and he can literally hear your mind racing without having to intrude. Meanwhile, Cassian, seemingly unfazed, hums a carefree tune to himself, earning an incredulous glance from you. 

“Well I can kiss my alliance with the Summer Court goodbye but I will not have a High Lord from another court seeking vengeance on two of my closest friends. You each are going to write your most heartfelt apologies to Nostrus, beg if you must, and let us all pray to the Cauldron that he finds it in his heart to forgive you.”

Parchment, ink and quills appear at the desk before you. With a flick of his wrist, Rhysand uses his magic to bring forth two chairs, gesturing for you and Cassian to sit. “You two are not allowed to leave this room until those letters are finished.”

Rhysand then turns to Azriel. “I need you to watch them. Make sure they don’t destroy any of my buildings.”

A low, almost melodramatic groan escapes Azriel’s lips. “Why do I always have to babysit them?”

“Azriel.”

“Fine.”

Once Rhysand leaves, you slump into one of the chairs with a small sigh of relief. You pick up a quill, dipping it in ink and stare at the blank parchment. Cassian does the same. Azriel picks up a book from one of the shelves. He then seats himself at Rhysand’s chair, right across from you both.

“Please make this quick,” his voice almost pleads, eyes darting between you both.

“You write it for me then.” Cassian rips a piece of paper, crumbling it into a tiny ball before flicking it at his friend. Azriel rolls his eyes, his loyal shadows catching the piece of paper midair and sending it back to Cassian, hitting his forehead with a tiny “whoosh.”

Your eyebrows furrow in an attempt to focus, all the while trying to ignore the distracting bounce of Cassian's leg. Slowly but surely, you’re scribbling words onto the parchment and before you know it, you’re crafting the most sincere apology to High Lord Nostrus. 

Cassian picks up on your deep concentration. He leans in closer, warm breath tickling your ear. “Whatcha writing there, bibble?”

“An apology,” you respond dryly, shooting him a sideways glance. You take note that his paper is still blank. “Something you should be doing too if you want us to make it to dinner.”

“I am. I’m just brainstorming,” he retorts in a ‘duh’ tone. “Let me see yours!”

You’re sliding your parchment away from his prying eyes. “No. Use your own brain!”

Ever the persistent one, Cassian leans in even closer, his head now practically resting on your shoulder as your hands hover over your paper, careful not to smear the fresh ink. “Come on, just a peek. I promise not to steal your most heartfelt words.”

With an exasperated sigh, you relent, allowing him a quick glimpse. His eyes are skimming through the words with an appreciative tilt of his head. “I like it. But maybe add a bit more details and drama, you know? Tug at his heartstrings a little more, he seemed to like you a lot.”

“We’re not trying to craft a masterpiece to win an award, Cassian,” you hiss at him, snatching your letter away from him.

“But you are trying to free yourself of a death sentence.” Azriel remarks, peering over his book at you as he reminds you that receiving a blood ruby from the Summer Court is not something to be taken lightly.

“See? Az gets it.” Cassian chuckles.

“Shut up and get to writing.” Azriel snaps at the busybody beside you, a stern edge in his tone.

“Yes, sir!”

**

Fortunately, the three of you arrive just in time for dinner. Unfortunately, the predominant topic at the table centers around the destruction of the building in the Summer Court. Rhysand, having taken the time to cool down, is noticeably calmer. While he remains upset that you and Cassian veered off course from your assigned mission, there's also a hint of happiness in having his friends back home and safe.

Cassian casually drapes his arm over the back of your chair, and the room is filled with the melody of his laughter in response to something Mor said. Something you should’ve caught as you’re seated right across from her but it’s the rich scent of sandalwood that captivates all your senses, causing your stomach to flutter. You barely manage to swallow your food without choking–a fact not lost on Azriel. He, however, chooses not to comment, sparing you from further embarrassment and grinning into his glass of wine instead.

 Rhysand glares at Mor and you get a sense of what had been said when he says: “Please don’t encourage these architects of chaos.”

You groan, leaning back into your seat. The regret is instant as the edge of your wing brushes against Cassian’s arm. It sends a slight shiver down your spine and you’re mustering all your strength to keep it from causing your sensitive wings to twitch. You’re down bad.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“Sure, but before we do…” Amren begins, a devious smile playing on her lips as she glances at you from across the table. “Can I keep the rubies?”

“Yeah and you can even keep the threat that comes with it too.”

The rest of dinner is, for the most part, uneventful. Rhysand excuses himself early to finish on some paperwork and before he leaves, he lets you and Cassian know that High Lord Nostrus should be receiving your written apologies by tomorrow morning. Amren leaves shortly after, eager to return to the quiet peace of her home. Just in time, too, as she manages to avoid a pointless argument between Cassian and Azriel over who has the best technique in training.

Not wanting to be dragged into it, you rise from your seat, grabbing a hold of the two remaining unopened wine bottles that Rhysand forgot to take back with him. You turn to Mor and you laugh when you don’t even have to say anything. She’s already standing from her seat, gesturing for you to lead the way.

The two of you end up in one of the living rooms and you’re touched when you find that the sentient house has a delicious assortment of desserts waiting for you on the coffee table. You sink into the comfort of the couch, feeling like you’re sitting on a cloud. Mor seats herself beside you, doing the honors of pouring you a glass of wine.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you are immersed into the dirtiest of gossip and catch up with one another. You move to pour yourself another glass only to find the second wine bottle empty, so you set your empty glass down on the coffee table. Leaning back into the comfort of the plush couch, you let out a sigh.

“I don’t know what he’s done to me,” you confess quietly, exhaustion taking over your features. “I’ve known him for years and all of sudden, I’m a possessive jealous mess? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

Mor raises a brow, as if it makes perfect sense to her. She then hums in contemplation, swirling the last drops of wine in her glass. “Maybe we should go out, have some fun, find a little distraction for you.”

“Or you can tell Cassian how you feel.”

The deep voice startles you both, causing Mor to gasp. Her glass falls from her grasps as Azriel emerges from the shadows. She regards the small specks of red tainting the white carpet with a frown before lifting her gaze to scowl at the Shadowsinger while you shoot him a mortified look.

“How dare you give her a reasonable option?” Mor chides him, waving her hands dramatically in the air.

“Stop with that nonsense, Az,” you say, a slight slur to your words. A frown settles onto your face, heart aching as your mind forces you to think of Cassian and Olianna. “He doesn’t feel the same for me as I do for him. I’ll only ruin our friendship if I do.”

Azriel’s eyes travel throughout the room. He takes in the empty bottles of wine, your hazy eyes and Mor’s flushed face. He looks like he wants to tell you something, on the verge of sharing a secret. Yet, whatever words linger on the tip of his tongue remain unspoken. He decides it’s best to turn around and leave, the inked wing on his arm burning further into his skin.

“Fine but don’t call me for help when you destroy another building.”

"Oh, fuck you."

He doesn't bother to turn around as he returns the gesture, a small chuckle escaping from him as he disappears into his shadows.

“So,” you turn back to Mor. “How about that distraction?” 

**

“By the Cauldron, you look absolutely ravishing.” Mor whistles, stepping back to appreciate her work and as you look at your reflection in the mirror, you can’t help but agree.

After asking Rhysand to fly you both down, Mor winnowed you both to the townhouse, where she kept most of her going out clothes as it was a shorter distance to Rita’s. Insisting on glamming you up, she took charge of your hair and makeup, even providing you with a choice from her wardrobe. Considering the wings, your options were limited, but your gaze was drawn to a striking red satin dress. It had an alluring lace-up open back and a daring slit hem.

After scouring the dance floor for an hour from your seat at the bar, you finally find someone who catches your interest and as you approach him, you’re happy to find that he isn't intimidated by the sight of your wings. Despite your determination to keep a low profile in Velaris, it becomes challenging to go unnoticed when your friends all possess such great reputations, especially when Cassian is by your side. Mor wishes you good luck, sending you a wink as you depart from her side. 

The male, who is named Felix, slings an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to him as you dance and you find yourself missing the scent of sandalwood immensely. He grins at you, intentions as clear as yours. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, drinking you under the neon lights of Rita’s. He licks his lips and glances over at your wings. “I’ve heard Illyrians can be very sensitive when it comes to their wings. Can I touch?”

Your mind immediately brings an image forward, of your wings being softly caressed, and heat pools down to your stomach. But in your head, it’s not the male in front of you. It’s Cassian’s.  

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her!”

By the Cauldron, your mind is playing tricks on you as you can even hear his voice too.

You feel the loss of warmth from the male and you open your eyes just in time to see Felix sent stumbling to the floor. Your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. Cassian is standing in front of you, chest heaving. The people who had stopped to stare quickly avert their gazes at his heated stare.

Felix gets up to his feet. He doesn’t even spare you a glance or a word as he disappears into the crowd. You’re immediately leaving the dance floor, not bothering to grab your coat before you exit the club with Cassian hot on your heels.

You pivot and Cassian nearly bumps into you. “What the fuck Cassian?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, returning your glare. “What the fuck?”

“Why are you even here?”

“I don’t know. Something didn't feel right." Cassian confesses, placing a hand over his chest as if to settle a pain.

You turn back around, knowing the towering Illyrian male was already planning to follow you. You begin to make your way to your place–a small apartment that Rhysand had gifted you on your first solstice in Velaris. You seldom used it, preferring to stay at either the house of wind or townhouse, but Rhysand insisted you have a place of your own in case you ever need space.

“And that gave you the right to ruin my night?” you huff over your shoulder.

“Ruin your night? I just saved you!”

“From what?” You laugh with sarcasm, grateful that the walk from your apartment and Rita’s was short. Pulling your key out from your bra, you hastily unlock your door.  “An orgasm? Gee, thanks. Love you for that,” and then under your breath mutter: “I didn’t stop you from yours in Summer.”

As soon as you step through your door, you turn and shut it behind you. A boot stops you from doing so and Cassian pushes against you and the door, allowing himself in. “What are you talking about?”

“You mean to tell me nothing happened between you and Olianna?”

“Yes, because nothing happened! She asked me to help her with a move after dinner so I did and…” His voice trails off, and then a heavy silence descends as realization washes over him. He looks at you, and you instinctively avert your gaze.

Without bothering to slip off your heels, you dart straight to your room, desperate to put as much distance between the two of you. You’re not ready to have this conversation. Relief mingles with embarrassment, both emotions flooding you and sending blood rushing to your face. But Cassian is determined. He follows after you.

“Were you jealous?”

Arms crossed over your chest, you keep your back to him, wings curled around you. “No.”

Cassian chuckles, and before you know it, he's spinning you around to face him. One hand presses against your lower back, the other at your face. A smirk plays on his lips as he reads the defiant expression on your face. He knows you’re lying.

“You were jealous.”

“So were you,” you manage to say back.

Cassian hums in what can only be agreement. A thumb reaches out to brush your lower lip, the same way he did your first night in Summer, and then he’s replacing his thumb with his lips. The way he wanted to that night. His kiss is anything but gentle. It’s pure heated desire–one that has been simmering for years. You kiss him back, matching his urgency and he groans, allowing both of his hands to cup your face as his lips mold perfectly against yours.

He pulls away, his hands still cradling your face as his gaze burns into yours. “You want to orgasm tonight? I can give it to you.”

A thrill runs down your spine and your wings shudder. You should push him away. Cassian is your friend. A friend… who is offering to give you an orgasm with a very promising look at this very moment. Though your heart tells you not to, that you might end up hurt after this, there’s that singing in your chest again. Give in.

“You sound so confident.”

His eyes darken as his legs push against yours, walking you both to your bed. The back of your knees meet your bed and you give in, allowing yourself to fall onto the soft sheets behind you. You land on your elbows and push yourself even further up on your bed until your back meets your headrest.

“Don’t test me, baby,” he purrs, watching the way your thighs clench in response to the new nickname. It makes his cock harden in his pants. “I can have you screaming all night long.”

“Lay it all on me,” you reply, heart be damned.

Cassian wastes no time in stripping himself of his clothes, lust filled eyes fixated on you. His hard cock springs free and your eyes widen because yes, you’ve seen him before but not like this. Not when he’s hard and leaking and it’s all for you. He pumps himself, licking his lips, as your arousal floods his senses before easing himself onto the bed.

He slips your heels off and discards them. His hands caress their way up your legs and the roughness of his hands, weathered by many battles and challenges, feels heavenly against you. As his hands make their way higher, they begin kneading at the soft flesh of your thighs, dragging your dress up along with his movements. He groans at the thin lace that greets him, pressing his lips against your clothed core.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

“Well, you did catch me in the middle of something promising earlier…”

Cassian growls at your words, a wave of possessiveness taking over him. “Yeah? Well, by the time I’m done with you, it will be my cum dripping out of this pretty pussy.”

He’s tugging at your underwear, hastily dragging it down your legs. With a devious smirk, he grasps your hands and places them over his hair. “Hold on tight, baby.”

It’s the only warning he gives you before diving right in and setting you alight with his mouth. His nose brushes against your clit as he begins to fuck you with his tongue. “Do you know how often I thought of this? Of tasting you.”

You want to tell him you’ve thought of this too but you’re too lost in the pleasure of his mouth. All you can do is moan and it spurs him on, urging him to bring you closer to your release.  “I can only imagine how good I’ll feel inside you.”

His words, a promise of what is to come, is your undoing. You’re squirming beneath him, back arching off the bed as you thread your fingers through his hair. A string of curses leaves your lips when he presses multiple kisses to your clit, overwhelming you in such a delightful way.

Cassian pulls away, mouth glistening with your release as he grins and your heart flutters. He crawls his way up your body, replacing his tongue with his fingers, reveling in the way they easily slide in. His lips slot over yours in a sloppy and heated kiss. When he slips another finger into you, you’re moaning into his mouth. His tongue dances with yours, wrestling for dominance that you ardently submit to.

“Please, Cassian,” you’re begging when his lips leave yours and his cock twitches at the pretty sounds that follow after. Another wave of white hot pleasure crashes over you and he groans, loving the way you're clenching so tightly around his fingers. “I need you.”

Cassian slips his fingers out of you, placing his hands at your hips to flip the both of you over. He adjusts you to straddle his lap, gaze burning into you with need. “Show me.”

“But let’s get rid of this first.” His fingers toy with the slit of your dress. “I need to see all of you.”

You nod, fingers reaching behind to undo the laces of your dress. The sound of fabric ripping reaches your ears before you can undo the first knot and cool air caresses against the newly exposed skin. 

“Cassian!”

“That’s my name, baby,” he grins at you, expertly unclasping your bra and throwing it behind you along with the torn dress.

“That wasn’t my dre–oh.” Your protest dies at your throat, eyes fluttering shut as he takes your breasts in his hands, kneading the soft flesh and pressing them together. The torn dress you borrowed from Mor is long forgotten, stored away in the back of your mind. The same way you stored away all your reservations. The desire that’s been consuming you is too much for you to think through reasonably so you succumb completely into it, knowing there will be consequences to deal with later.

**

It’s almost embarrassing how much Cassian has thought about this, especially after the tease you gave him in Summer. His desires had gone beyond wanting to kiss you that night. He wanted to see, feel and taste every part of you. To hear you moaning and screaming just for him. Now, that you’re completely bare before him, he can look, feel and taste all he wants. And he plans to bask in every second of your warmth.

 “So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, leaning in to take a breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardening nipple with burning hunger. Your hands find purchase in his hair again as you arch yourself further, grinding against him. Lewd moans escape from both of you when the tip of his cock brushes against your sensitive clit. Cassian dives for your neck next, pressing hot open mouthed kisses everywhere he can. 

“Come on, baby girl. Show me how much you need me and ride me.”

Aligning yourself with him, you slowly sink down onto his cock, savoring the burn from the stretch. His fingers run up and down your sides before settling onto your hips. Eyes fluttering shut at the sheer intensity of your warmth, he can’t help but thrust up into you, fully sheathing himself inside you. His head tilts back when you begin to move and he releases a deep groan.

It’s when your thighs start to tremble and wings flare out that he takes over. He hugs you tightly, arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand rubs at your clit. While he pants and groans against your neck, you’re crying and screaming out his name. He plants his feet on the bed and thrusts ruthlessly up into you over and over again until you both reach your high, wings flaring out. 

**

As Cassian stirs in bed, a cool emptiness greets him, replacing the warmth he expected. Blinking his eyes open, he finds the spot beside him empty. You're gone. The lingering trace of your sweet scent is the only evidence of what transpired between you both. Fuck. Apprehension weighs down on his mind in your absence, threatening to sicken his stomach. He needs to talk to you. 

After freshening up and slipping into the spare clothes he keeps at your place, his determination to find you takes hold. It's as if he can sense the storm of emotions within you—guilt, anxiety, and fear. There’s an inkling in his mind as to where you are. He knows you so well. A soft smile graces his lips when he spots you on the training grounds of the house of wind, unleashing powerful strikes on a punching bag.

Your hair is gathered into a carefree bun, and today, you've traded your usual leathers for leggings and a sports bra. You’re a vision of strength and beauty and as loose strands of your hair dance in the breeze, Cassian finds himself lost in the realization of just how deeply in love with you he is. 

He lands softly, fighting the urge to frown when he notices the immediate tension in your body from his presence. He hesitates, his throat bobbing as he looks at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Can we—"

"No, let me talk first," you interrupt with a deep sigh as you turn to face him.

"But I had something to say first," he insists with a slight shake of his head.

“I have something more important to say."

Cassian crosses his arms, challenging your claim. "My something is more important than your something."

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air and as the weight of your confession sinks in, a wave of fear grips you. You're certain you've just shattered any hopes of a remaining friendship with him. Because after last night, there's no way you can keep going on as a friend when you want to be so much more. The silence becomes maddening, and suddenly, you can't hold it any longer.

“I love you so much it hurts,” you admit with a trembling breath, tears welling in your eyes. “Because I want your every smile, your every laugh, but above all, I want your heart and–and I’m sorry for–”

“Oh, y/n,” Cassian interrupts with a chuckle.

The sound makes you go weak and you’re absolutely mortified. He rarely ever calls you by your name. He’s about to break your heart, the very thing you’ve been fearing since the realization of your feelings. The urge to run away grips you, but your feet remain planted. You lack the strength to escape the moment. Tears flow freely down your face, and your wings sag behind you, unable to bear the weight of vulnerability.

“You’ve had my heart from the start.”

Slowly, you lift your gaze. Hazel eyes bore into yours, the golden flecks glimmering at you. “What?”

He steps closer to you until he's standing right in front of you. His hands cradle your face as he wipes at your tears. “I’ve loved you for years. I thought I made it pretty obvious, especially after last night.”

“Not obvious enough,” you remark with a huff but there’s a playful and affectionate undertone in your voice.

“I could remind you again?”

"Please."

A radiant smile breaks onto Cassian’s face, and the warmth in his eyes washes away any doubt that may have lingered in your heart. Something within you flutters madly against your ribs. All these years…the teasing, the flirting, the lingering touches. They all meant something to him, the same way it did for you. You’ve loved him and he loved you back. So many years wasted, yearning and pining for one another. As you gaze into each other’s eyes, so many unspoken words are said and there’s a shared understanding that you’re not wasting another moment.

**

Rhysand raises his cup of coffee to his lips, the rich aroma swirling around him as he catches a glimpse of Cassian, carrying you over his shoulder, with an eagerness he’s familiar with. He then glances over the rim of his mug at Azriel, seated across from him at the breakfast table.

"Do you think they know?"

Azriel snorts in response. "Doubt it. I think you should tell them."

“No.” Rhysand's lips curve into a smirk. "Let's see how long it takes them to realize that their mating bond has snapped into place."

“We should probably head out.”

“Good idea,” Rhysand replies with a nod of his head.

In the blink of an eye, the sentient house packs the remnants of their breakfast for them to enjoy elsewhere. Without a moment's delay, they make their way to one of the balconies. Their wings gracefully unfurl behind them, catching the morning sunlight that bathes them in a golden glow.

As they soar away, you and Cassian remain blissfully unaware of the invisible thread that has silently bound your souls together for years.

tagging: @historiaxvanserra

a/n: I always wanted to write a fic where a mating bond has snapped but neither of them have a clue because they already loved each other, might be a bit unrealistic but 🤷‍♀️ I came across this bibble meme while writing this and it reminded me of both reader and Cas in some aspects. Since I couldn't think of an embarrassing nickname, I went with Bibble and so now the cute little character is canon in Prythian in this lol.

if you want more background info on reader and cas: click here

Other things that I included in this part:

This scene from Vampire Diaries.

also, this tiktok.

#cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian imagine #cassian x you #cassian fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar cassian #cassian smut #acotar smut

[tadpolesonalgae]

Dark!Rhysand x reader: Desk Pet[***]

A/N: if you’d like more, try the sequel: play-mate or the prequel, Two-Faced 🧡💛

Warnings: non-con, dark!rhysand, collars + leashes, impact ‘play’, oral (m!recieving), arguably torture, degradation, smut, cum play?

Word Count: 3,993

Even freshly oiled hinges make noise if you know what to listen for.

The air shifts, a lock clicking softly, followed by the muffled scuff of shoes over a hardwood floor.

You curl into a tight ball, knuckles of your spine pressing against the back of the desk, huddling your knees to your naked front.

Dark, polished leather comes into view. Shift as he reaches for something on the surface of your ceiling. Papers rustle, the smell of ink and parchment bursting in the air, and you curl yourself tighter, pressing as far away from him as possible.

He reclines in the padded chair, cushioning thick and luxurious, nothing but perfection for Night Triumphant. Bare skin prickles with fear, dark power thrumming thick in the air, static buzzing beneath your skin, bones heavy with the weight of his magic. Lower lip wobbles, but you keep yourself stiff, spine rigid—hardly even breathing. Above you, a quill scratches away on the desk, tapping out a slow, steady beat. Bored, and lazy. Taunting as he sets you on edge.

Nails dig into the soft flesh of your palms as he pushes his chair back, enough space for you to peek your head out, if you had the foolish courage to try. Instead, you cower back into the darkness, wishing to be reduced to dust; to fade into nothing. Lurk like a spider in a corner, remaining unseen but able.

“I’d been wondering where you scuttled off to,” he muses, pushing further from his desk. Toes curl, arms wrapping tighter around bare shins, ankles crossing in attempts to shield yourself from his prying eyes. “Come out here,” he commands smoothly, “I want to see you.”

Something sharp slices into your gut, twisting sickeningly as you squeeze your body to the point of cramping, shrinking away into the darkness below his desk. Heart pounds in your chest, counting out the menacing tap of his fingers, drumming out your sentence. He hums softly, as if bored by your terror. “You’re going to be like that, then.”

Hand flexes, a shadowed leash materialising in his palm, fingers wrapping tight as he jerks on it, roughly.

You choke, gagging as you’re flung forward, landing on your hands and knees, pushing with all your might to return to the temporary safety beneath his desk. There’s no give on the collar, the leash might as well be made of iron for how far you’re able to pull away from him. Nails dig into the floorboards, gouging into the crevices as you attempt to scramble away from him, skin prickling as his attention licks over you.

The High Lord tuts softly, jerking your leash so you have to raise up onto your knees, hands leveraging yourself on the plush cushion of his chair—space between his long legs. Fear pounds through your head, ears ringing as you meet his gaze: cold, cruel violet narrowed upon your lower form. Eyes widen, edges of your mouth twisting down as your lip wobbles, pressure tightening around your throat. A faint smile crinkles the edges of his mouth, recognising your fear, marking the tremble to your fingers.

“So much resistance from something so small,” he muses, hand cupping your jaw, fingers and thumb squeezing your cheeks. “I take that to mean you’re well rested?”

Lip wobbles, a tear spilling over as the muscles in your shoulders contract with tension, trying to shrink away from him. Violet narrows, jerking on your collar. You gasp, darkness tightening around your throat. “I’m not in the mood,” he snarls roughly, brow deepening into a scowl, lip curling back from sharp, gleaming canines. “Now on your knees, mouth open.”

Terror floods your veins, and you tug on the leash, shaking your head as you use your hands in attempts to shove him away.

A beastly snarl rips from his throat, forcing you into a state of petrifaction, his inherent dominance over you making blood freeze in your arteries. The back of his palm connects with your cheek, smacking your face to the side, skin stinging as pain bursts at the corner of your mouth. A metallic tang coating your tongue.

He jerks on your lead, commanding your attention, tears mixing with blood as they drip down your jaw, splattering on the floor. A low laugh drags from his chest, violence prowling just beneath as he forces you to straighten your spine, lead pulled taut as you kneel between his long legs. “You’re going to hurt so bad,” he snarls, grinning, nothing kind in the display of piercing, white teeth. “Does that excite you, pet?” He practically spits, leaning to be closer to you, your hands having to brace themselves atop his powerful thighs. “Knowing how I’m going to use you?” He growls, arousal dilating his pupils.

“I’m going to make sure you hate this,” he snarls, violet practically glowing as he bares his teeth.

Terror roils in your gut, and you spit at him, saliva splattering just beneath his left eye, digging your nails into the muscle of his thighs.

He’s still for a moment, a storm brewing as magic crackles in the air.

Pupils tighten into slits, fury whitening his features, carving out animalistic lines into his cruelly beautiful face. “You want it rough, today?” He growls, lowly, fingers biting into your jaw. “Want to have this experience scarred into you?” He mutters, shadows flickering at his back, those great, powerful wings materialising, tipped with piercing talons. “Want me to break something?” He hisses, jaw straining beneath his grip.

Thunder storms in his eyes, snapping all at once, releasing the damper on his power, pressure almost crushing you as your heart strains beneath the weight of his darkness. Magic is unleashed, and your lips part in a silent scream as talons rake along the soft, tender adamant of your mental shields, ripping them apart in a single beat of your heart. Mind is torn away; claws touch the most intimate, sacred parts of you, pawing and scraping at your soft centre.

Spine curves, head tipping back as your eyes widen, as if lightening it crackling beneath your skin, pure, undiluted power searing into your body.

“Are you sorry?” He muses, pleased with your suffering. Arousal thickens as tears streak down your throat, dripping between your breasts as you sob at the invasion. Lips tremble, aching from being stretched taut, jaw feeling like it might crack from being forced open.

Talons squeeze tighter, a stomach-ripping scream tearing from your lungs, blood-curdling from the exquisite agony he’s inflicting. “I’m— sorry!” You scream, having trouble forming the words from blazing pain. “Please!” You cry out. “Please! I— I can’t—”

Claws retract, and you slump forward, spine aching from bowing at such a steep angle, as though something else had taken ahold of you. “Better,” he croons, pulling on the leash, dragging you back between his thighs. “Now settle down and get to work,” he snarls, working himself free of the infuriating ties keeping him from the wet heat of your mouth.

Breath shudders from your lungs, chest spasming from the force of his power, stinging aches lacerating across your torso with every inhale. He’d promised he’d make it hurt.

Tears spill fresh down your cheeks as his hand fists in your hair, nails scraping viciously over your scalp, guiding you to his tip. “Open that mouth for me before I unhinge your damned jaw,” he snarls roughly, releasing your leash in favour of gripping his base.

Loathsomely, your lips part, dread coiling in your gut at his barbarity; the brutality he’s inflicting upon you with such glee. He shoves into your mouth; you choke, spluttering and convulsing as he pushes you down, nose pressing tight to his abdomen, dark hairs trailing a path from his muscled stomach to his cock. Instinctively, you try to pull your tongue away, but it only brings his flavour deeper, the invasive taste of him spearing through your mind.

He laughs darkly, “isn’t that better, pet? Don’t have to worry that dumb little mind about trying to fight me. Just focus on doing the one thing you’re good at.” His fingers curl in your hair, slowly dragging you up and down his cock, as though you’re a toy he has no worry for. Hips buck lightly, breaths deepening as his head tips back against his chair, skin dusted with an orange-pink flush.

“Do you like knowing this is what you’ve been reduced to? What I’ve reduced you to?” He muses, quirking a brow as he stares down at you, head dipped as though you’re bowing, mouth sealed tight around the thickness of his length. “A pretty little cock toy,” he mocks, “isn’t that right?”

Your nose burns, throat aching from the intrusion, tears dripping onto his tan skin. Palms splay over the leather clothing his inner thighs, nails stabbing into the muscle as he keeps you pressed into his lap, grinding up into your mouth.

When he pulls you off, you gasp for air, spit drooling from the edges of your lips, spilling down your chin, attached to his tip by thin, silvery strands. Chest heaves as you splutter, gulping down breaths desperately. The High Lord groans, thumb swiping over your swollen lower lip, saliva tinted with precum. “Such a lovely accessory, aren’t you?” He growls, hand fisting in your hair as he guides you to his hips, head pushing into your mouth, his taste prominent and distinct.

Eyes burn as tears drip onto his skin, tongue writhing in your mouth as you press your hands against his thighs in protest. He widens the stance of his legs, pushing you down until all you can see is the hot skin of his abdomen, flecked with small scars. He curses under his breath, rolling his hips as you gag, tightening around him. “Relax,” he mutters, sharply bucking up, thrusts turning rougher and faster, picking up the rhythm.

“I’m going to fuck you raw,” he groans, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping you, setting a punishing pace as he fucks your mouth. All you can do is stab your nails into the muscle of his thighs, but he twitches in response, enjoying the pain: inflicting and receiving it. A strangled whimper spills onto him, and he snarls in pleasure, making you squirm at his barbarity.

“You’re going to swallow it,” he mutters, nails raking over your scalp. “Every last drop, and you’re going to be thankful for it.” Hips buck sharply, twitching on your tongue as he nears his peak. “Grateful you’re the female who gets to be on her knees for me.”

Eyes squeeze shut, arms aching from trying to shove away from him, but he keeps your head tucked between his legs, lips flush to his abdomen as he releases down your throat. Giving you no choice but to swallow as his hips stutter, nose hurting from how heavy his hold is. Low, rough groans drag from his throat, thighs parting as darkness envelops your body, wrapping around your waist, sliding up your front, licking between your thighs. Like dozens of pairs of hands, fingers grazing down your spine, thumbing your nipples.

You shudder, crying out at the invasion; the violation as he feels the soft heat of your skin, darkness building between your legs as you try to wriggle away. Try to push further up onto your knees but shadow wraps over your thighs, binding them to your calves so you’re forced to keep still as they writhe and flick against your heat.

He pulls you to his tip, just as the last spurts shoot from the slit, hot droplets of cum splattering over your lips, smattering like freckles on your cheeks and nose. You splutter, gagging and gulping down air, desperate for a breath at last. Through your spotted daze you can make out how he’s fisted his cock, pumping slowly, easing down from his high. Breathing heavily, skin hot and flushed.

“Lick it up,” he murmurs, panting deeply. Jerks your hair, making you wince. “Lick it up.”

You glance down, spotting the stray drops that have latched onto the dark fabric of his leathers, remnants still at his tip. Involuntarily swallowing, you lean forward, feeling piercing violet weighing as you poke your tongue out, lapping up the mess he’s made. Swiping over his inner thigh, dragging up the seam.

Gritting your teeth, you lick his tip, tongue flicking over his slit, suckling down the stray droplets. He growls, thumbing at your cheeks, scooping up the last few spurts of his cum, peering at it; smearing it across the pad. Lips quirk in a cold smile, violet flicking to weigh down on you. “Up,” he murmurs, as if coaxing a pet into being good. “Up here.” Pats his thigh with his free hand, “up into my lap.”

There’s no way for you to protest, dark magic handling you onto your feet. Flinch as he brushes his cum-slicked thumbs over your nipples, circling and pinching softly, grinning at how they stiffen into peaks as the air hits the cooling liquid. His hand trails down your stomach, gaze following with interest, pondering how next to torture you. How else can he degrade you?

A mix between a whimper and a hiss spits from your chest as those cum-covered fingers swipe over your heat, darkness keeping your arms immobile at your back. His eyes latch onto yours as his digits dance between your legs, a wicked smirk twisting his lips, grin the embodiment of cocky, male arrogance. “You’d taste wonderful right now,” he drawls, middle finger circling your clit, playing with the soft, sensitive bud.

Lip wobbles as your vision blurs, struggling against his dark power, keeping you from so much as squirming.

His grin widens, noting your disgust. One finger pushes inside, and you whimper, face screwing up as it curls gently, rubbing against soft, sensitive spots that would feel nice if they were being stimulated by anyone but him. “Should I spread you out on my desk, hm? Get you all nice and wet” —punctuated by the curl of his finger— “for me? I bet you’d hate that.”

Eyes remain screwed shut, nails digging into the flesh of your palms, teeth prickling at your lip. A second finger prods at your entrance, and you try to squirm away, try to close your legs, or even just squeeze them together but he’s got two digits inside, and tears drip down your cheeks. “Stop,” you whisper, shakily, voice trembling. “Stop it.”

He hums, grin widening as he drags you closer by your cunt, so you’re stood over his left thigh, free hand gripping your hip. “But you’re so fun to play with,” he replies, mirth dancing in the violet of his eyes. Wet splashes down, landing on your chest. “You’re a monster,” you breathe, voice breaking. “A filthy, fucking, monster.”

Teeth flash in a grin. “You love me really,” he says, fingers rubbing over a spot that has your breath catching. Brows narrow together, mustering up a glare, “I hate you.”

“You hate me?” He replies, laughter in his voice. “You don’t know the meaning of the word,” he drawls. “Lovely, soft, lamb. Never faced a day of hardship in her life. Kept safe, by me, while the rest of the land was brought to its knees by that bitch of a Queen.”

“You’re worse than she was,” you snarl, baring your teeth as you feel yourself crumbling further. Fingers still inside of you, thumb prone to press against your clit.

“You think I’m worse than her?” He mutters lowly, something dark and sinister sharpening it’s claws within him, violet plummeting to indigo. Fury glitters in his eyes. “I know you are,” you seethe, tears still dripping steadily.

Hellish mouth slowly quirks into a smile, dragging his fingers from your heat, raising his hand for you to see: the arousal coating his digits, glistening with slick. “You seem to like that.”

Humiliation swarms your body, and you look away, shame slicing into your gut despite knowing it means nothing. You hear him laugh, low and dark; hear the sound of clothes ruffling as he raises his hand, followed by wet, lewd noises. “You taste like you do, too,” he muses. When you don’t reply, he grips your jaw, other hand resting possessively at your hip. “Say you like it,” he commands, palms sliding over your hind, digits prodding at the intimate skin. “Ask me to fuck you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you hiss, glaring at him beneath narrowed brows. “You’re vile, and cruel, and utterly, utterly, disgusting.”

“That’s not how you ask, little lamb,” he remarks, mildly. “Did having my cock in your mouth somehow skew your brain?” He muses, hand sliding over the plumpness of your rear to grip the back of your thigh, handling you so your leg slides over his hip—straddling his lap. “Maybe we should work on your articulation?” You debate spitting at him again. The way he quirks his brow in challenge makes you believe he’s inside you already, cataloguing each of your thoughts. When his lips quirk, you hiss.

“Get out.” The High Lord grips your hips, moving you so you’re flush against his chest, cock hard and stiff, and poking into your abdomen. ‘But it’s so cozy in here.’ Nausea roils in your gut as you attempt to squirm away. “Stop it,” you hiss—comes out like a whimper. He grips your jaw tight, “beg.”

Blood freezes in your veins; you stare at him. “What?” His hellish mouth twists into a feline grin. “Beg.” Heart pounds in your chest, his cold, violet eyes devoid of any hints to whether he’s offering you reprieve this time. He’s proven himself to be sick enough to get off on begging alone.

Lower lip wobbles, arms still trapped at your back by his dark magic. “Please,” you murmur, unable to meet his eye. Heat flushing your skin as sickening shame burns in your gut.

“Please what?” He drawls, taunting you softly, grinding his hips against you, the rough material of his leathers scraping your nipples, making you squirm in his hold. “Please, stop it,” you mutter, trying to blink away those tears—he probably gets turned on by them.

Darkness lessens at your back, giving you enough leeway to shift as he—

“You’re a fucking psycho.”

The High Lord grips your hips tighter, your nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders, front pressed tight to his chest as you’re forced to lean into him to keep from sliding down onto his cock—tip eagerly pressed to your entrance. “You didn’t sound believable.” He answers nonchalantly, smiling cruelly. Hips buck, his head nudging the soft dip between your thighs. “We need to work on your begging,” he growls up onto your mouth.

Terror coils in your gut as he makes to drag you down, sit you on his cock like a prized accessory, nothing but a toy for him to enjoy. Tears brim at your lash line, nails biting into his skin. “Please…” you whimper, breasts pressed flush to his chest, feet hurting from perching on the points of your toes. “I…Please, Rhys.”

Tears drip-drop, splashing lightly onto his cheeks, face below your own. Violet widens marginally, revelling in the hot liquid, feeling it roll down to his jaw. A muscle feathers, and he curses lowly. “You beg like a fucking whore,” he snarls, lips grazing your own. “Where do you get off on acting like that, huh? Acting like it’s not all your dumb mind can think about.” His thumb and fingers squeeze the skin of your cheeks, making you cry harder. “I know you want it,” he breathes, words carving into your lips from the proximity. “Can’t wait for it. You’re practically dripping on me,” he snarls, pupils dilating to something wild and dangerous.

Then he’s slamming you down, and your mouth parts in a silent sob, collapsing against him, bodies pressed flush as your muscles give out, flopping into his shape, moulding against him. He’s filling you up entirely, spine arching as involuntary pleasure spasms across your lower tummy, heating your skin until you feel like you’ll never move again.

Rhys curses, low and viciously, hand gripping the nape of your neck to pull you back. You can hardly function. Disgusting, violating pleasure twists through your abdomen from being seated on his cock, your entire weight pressing him deeper. “Look at you,” he mutters lowly, taking in the heat flushing your skin, the part of your lips, the fluttering of your eyelids. “So fucked out already” he growls, hot lips brushing against your neck; you shudder.

“I told you that you wanted it,” he drawls, large palm spanning the width of your back, encouraging you to curve into him, arms draping over his shoulders, between the great wings. “Even your cunt was begging for me,” he snarls roughly, softly grinding up into you. You shiver from the exposure, feeling more naked now than you ever have before. Knowing he can watch as you loathsomely respond to him: the delicious press of his cock, how ecstasy is burning beneath your skin.

He laughs lowly, teeth scraping the soft skin of your throat. ‘I know you like it like this,’ he gloats in your mind, nipples peaking from the invasion. ‘You can’t lie to me, even if you manage to deceive yourself.’ All you can do is release a strangled sound—a bit too close to a moan for all the locked up hatred you can feel coiling in the pit of your stomach.

The High Lord begins bucking his hips, hands forcing you to grind against him, despite how you’re rendered immobile from shock and pleasure, slumped onto his chest as he uses you. He picks up the rhythm, setting a brutal pace that has disgust bubbling in the pit of your belly. His cock shoves into you, touching those sensitive spots he’d sought out with his fingers, sending you deeper into that mind-numbing state of disassociation.

“Do you still hate me, huh? Still hating this as much as when we started?” He growls, pounding up into you while you can do nothing but accept every sharp thrust, every buck that has you tightening around him. Slick’s probably dripped down onto his leathers by now—he’ll probably force you to lick it up afterwards.

“I know you’re enjoying this,” he murmurs beside your ear. “Such a filthy liar, aren’t you? My lovely, lying, lamb.”

You hiss as pleasure spills over the edges, ecstasy erupting within you as you’re sent over the edge. He snarls in response, rationality breaking beneath the strain of animal instinct. He surges from the chair, shoving you on his desk, papers flying as he grips your hips, slamming you back to meet him as he pounds into you. Sharp, gleaming canines pierce his lower lip as his own high crashes into him, cum shooting from his cock as his thrusts become sloppy, grinding into the wet, messy heat of your cunt as you flutter around him. Eyes are rolled back as you helplessly buck against him, body moving on its own while your back bows from his desk.

Ink is no doubt staining your skin, but you’re too far away to care. Grateful for the reprieve, finally leaving your body, escaping from his brutality, even for only a few moments.

Pleasure numbs your mind of pain, blanking out the violation and basking in the warm tingle he’s put into your bones.

Heavy pants fill the air as he keeps his hips pressed tight to the backs of your thighs, wings taut and shuddering as the last spurts of cum spill into you, making sure to pump everything he has deep inside.

He needs to be certain you’re completely his, filled with him at all times.

And when you’re eventually empty again, he’ll just repeat the events.

Filling you up all over again.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Rhys Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

#Rhys #Rhys smut #Rhysand #Rhysand x reader #Rhysand smut #dark!rhys #dark!rhysand #dark!rhys x reader #dark!rhys x reader smut #dark!rhysand x reader #dark!Rhysand x reader smut #dark!fic #[***] #Desk Pet

[sidthedollface2]

Something Old and Something New

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (Rhys sister)

Summary: Rhys tells Azriel to back off Elain and find release at a pleasure hall. Instead, Azriel finds you, Rhys' younger sister. 

Or

The Princess of the Night Court becomes Azriels rebound. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, ANGST, hurt/no comfort, cheating? (not really tho you'll see), smut (p in v, oral, fingering) no use of yn, nicknames, drug use, alcohol.

A/n: I’m back from vacation and decided to do this one shot in between crown fit for a god. I really don't like using yn (its me not you) so every one of my fics will have a nickname but its still x reader. I’m sorry in advance if this hurts you. Anyway, enjoy. :)

“You will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.” 

Azriel hadn't slept in weeks. The weight of his shame suddenly became too heavy for his illyrian shoulders. You weren't supposed to be this magnetic and he wasn't supposed to stick around this long. He told himself it was just going to be a quick fling, someone he could spend the night with and try to forget about her.

 But you had always been in his company. Ever since you became of age he thought you were stunning and entirely too good for him. You were afterall Rhysands younger sister. The female version with equal power and even more beautiful. Graceful when needed, mostly among people of importance, and always polite and kind like a princess should be. You were a Princess for the people, earning the citizens trust and walking among them like each and every person was your friend. It was no secret why they preferred your company to their High Lord.

Your amethyst eyes were now engrained behind his very own eyelids, everytime he closed his eyes for the night, they shot wide open. The image of you under him all those nights and the soft moans as he took you to bed in the shroud of darkness. He really didn’t know how it happened, mostly, he blamed it on the alcohol. One night after Ritas was all it took for him to be obsessed, seeking you out when his loneliness threatened to consume him.

Azriel’s panting mixes with your own moans as he pumps himself inside you. The delicious drag of his thick cock leaves you breathless under him. His touch is gentle as he cups your cheek, his hazel eyes never leaving yours as he imagines forever in your arms. “You're so beautiful. Can’t believe I get to have you.” He coo’s as he trails soft kisses down your neck, nipping and biting your flesh, careful to not leave any marks. Your hands card through his dark waves, back arching off the bed when his lips attach to your pebbled nipple.

Kissing and biting at the fullness of your breasts, soothing away the love bruising he left on them previously. His scarred hands feel like silk when they roam the soft curves of your body, lighting a fire within you with each and every touch. Knees dig into the bed as he grips your hips, still completely sheathed inside you. He moves your body against his, matching the velocity of his thrusts. Deeper and deeper. One arm wraps around your waist while the other rubs tiny circles on your clit. His eyes never leave your beautiful face as his favorite part comes to life right before him. Your head is thrown back, mouth agape as pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach. “Oh fuck Az, don’t stop.” Azriel’s eyes sparkle with wonder as you fall apart beneath him. Toes curling as the force of your orgasm takes over all your senses. Azriel follows soon after. His pace stutters as your name falls from his lips with a groan. Spilling his seed into you with slow thrusts, ensuring each drop doesn't go to waste.

 “You were so good for me baby,” he smiles as he peppers your face with kisses. Azriel pulls out with a hiss and you giggle into the covers when his toned ass walks to the bathroom. You pout adorably when he returns wearing a pair of low hanging pants, and a warm cloth in his hands. “None of that love. I’m all yours and very willing to give you seconds and thirds,” he waggles his eyebrows and nestles between your legs. No shame or embarrassment from neither of you as he gently cleans you up. In between his gentle wipes he places a loud kiss to your core, “so fucken pretty.”

“Pink or Red?” He asks, looking through your assortment of panties, imagining how you'd look wearing the lacey ones. “Black.” Is all you reply and Azriels grin widens when you pick the lacey ones. 

He insists on helping you get dressed, pinching your butt and digging his fingers in your sides, making you giggle. You swat his greedy hands away. knowing it's just an excuse to keep touching you. “I’m not going to let you help me next time, all you do is tickle me,” you joke, knowing very well you couldn’t keep him away if you tried. “Fine. I won’t tickle you next time,” he says, crossing his arms with a sly grin on his handsome face. 

“You said that last time, and the time before that too.”

“Then you should know what to expect. Now come to bed, and snack with me.” Azriel moves to lay on the bed and opens the covers. Patting the space next to him with the palm of his hand, beckoning you next to him. You don’t have to be told twice, because this was without a doubt your favorite part. Like clockwork Azriel requested all your favorite snacks and without hesitation the house delivered.

Like a true Royal he fed you ripe grapes from the vine, watching intently as you parted your mouth for the sweet berry. Azriel licked his lips when your mouth wrapped around the fruit, making you chuckle as you pulled it off the stem. “When you said snacks this is not what I had in mind. I was thinking more like dessert.” 

“You just had dessert baby,” he teased with a shit eating grin as he gestured to his cock. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped from the back of your throat, causing you both to burst into fits of laughter, giggling like children. Who knew the shadowsinger belly laughed so openly. Something he only did with you. Once your laughs died down Azriel indulged you with a sweet treat. Again offering to spoon feed you, taking every chance to lick frosting off your glossy lips or fingers. 

By the end of the night you couldn't believe how sore your cheeks were from laughing so hard. Azriel had this charm about him, and you couldn’t get enough. You draped your arm over his toned stomach. Head nestled against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his strong heart, a melody you loved to fall asleep to. He held you close to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair, “Goodnight baby,” he whispered. 

“Night Az, I love you.” 

Silence. 

Azriel didn’t sleep that night. Neither did you. You didn’t expect him to say the words back, because he’d shown you he loved you in his actions alone. But his coldness afterward was unexpected. He laid still under you. No longer stroking your hair, or rubbing small circles on your back. It was like all the air had left his body yet the rhythm of his heart increased, hammering against his chest with the ferocity of a freight train.  If he felt your saddened tears fall on his chest he didn’t mention it, too caught up in his thoughts to console you. 

But now all his thoughts were of you and how quick your love had turned bitter when he didn't respond after you had said those three words to him. 

He was an idiot. Because he did love you. At the very sight of you his heart beat wildly in his chest. He wanted to spend every waking moment holding your hand and kissing your perfect lips. Fall asleep with you in his arms only to be awoken by your feminine beauty.  But Rhysand was unaware that you two were in a relationship. Were you in a relationship? He never asked. Wanted to. But he didn’t. He couldn’t imagine a day where Rhys would accept him as your lover. Rhys had been furious that he wanted to sleep with Elain, threatening him to no end. He couldn't imagine the anger if he were to find out that he turned his efforts to you instead. There were only a few things Azriel was scared of. Rhysands fury if he were to ever find out he’s been sleeping with his sister. And losing you. Those sort of went hand and hand didn’t they. 

You woke up alone the following morning. Thinking that your confession was too much for the shadowsinger. And perhaps you were just one of his many conquests added to the long list of females that warmed his bed. For as long as you knew Azriel he only had casual flings, nothing of substance. No one he introduced to his family. It made you feel stupid. He made you feel stupid. Hoping that you were the one he could call home. Someone he could envision spending the rest of his life with. You could forgive him for not saying ‘I love you’ back. That didn’t stop you from loving him and that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you. Because surely he did right? 

Right?

It wasn’t just that though, you had overheard Azriel tell Cassian sleeping with you was a mistake and that choosing you to be his rebound hadn’t worked out for him. “She said she loved me. It’s just all wrong. This wasn’t how I wanted things to go between us-” You didn’t bother hearing the rest of the conversation. Azriel’s words left your heart gaping, a wound so large you were afraid no one could mend it.

You had missed the importance of his following words, how Azriel wished he had done things right with you. Courted you the right way, with flowers and lovely dates to the finest eateries. Taking things slow at first, holding hands and sweet kisses under the moonlight. You didn’t hear Azriel explain that you had become more than he ever expected, more than just a rebound. He wanted a life with you. Now and forever, just you two and the family he always wanted.

You’d both move into a beautiful house just along the Sidra where you’d spend hours decorating every room to your liking. He’d soon marry you in front of all his family and friends, wearing the finest gown that glittered brighter than the night sky. During the mating frenzy, because of course you were his mate, he’d be sure to fuck a baby into you. And if his seed didn’t stick he wouldn't stop until your scent shifted to one of a pregnant female. He just hoped that Rhysand would give his blessing. 

Now everytime Azriel tried to seek you out, you were nowhere to be found. Like you had just vanished from the Night Court, even though the other members had interactions with you. You suddenly had no time for Azriel. The citizens of Velaris saw you less and less and when they did, your time spent was cut in half. Your joyous laughter no longer echoed the halls of the House of Wind, instead Cassian and Nesta’s not so secret sex romps were becoming more frequent. You had changed your entire schedule to avoid crossing paths with the shadowsinger. 

You no longer spent your mornings having breakfast with Rhysand and Feyre, instead you woke up earlier than usual and held your morning breakfast in the library. 

 “Why are you having breakfast here and not with Rhys?” Azriels hazel eyes took you in as he neared, noticing your tense shoulders. Closing the book in your hand, now finished with your chapter, you stand and gather your items into your bag, “was just catching up on some reading.” You don’t meet his gaze, the sight of him too painful for your heart to bear. “You haven’t been training with Cassian either,” he continues. “Or shopping with Mor. You haven't exchanged books with Nesta and,” Azriel towers over you, his breath fanning over your cheek at his closeness, “you haven’t warmed my bed.” Your eyes finally meet his, a look of desire in his warm eyes as his hands come up to cup your face. A glance over his shoulder has you pulling away from his touch as Elain enters the library, her soft voice dancing along the walls, “Hi Az.”

He ignores her completely, doesn’t even spare her a glance. But your eyes travel from her to him and back again. You see the fondness she has for him in the flush of her cheeks and the way her voice sings as she calls his name.

Memories of their subtle interactions come crashing into your mind. Her shy gaze whenever he walked in the room. The slight brush of fingers when they crossed paths, his lingering gaze when she exited a room.

He’s not yours, and you're not his. Never was, never will be. It dawns on you then that all the soft touches and lingering glances were never sincere but simply a ploy to get Elain jealous. Everytime you made love to him you gave a part of yourself, hoping he would accept you with open arms and an open heart.

You had hoped you were the only one in his life that made him throw his head back, eyes closed shut in ecstasy. But it's clear now when he closed his eyes he saw Elain riding him instead, not you. She was who he really wanted and you were just a placeholder. The rebound. 

He knows you well enough to tell when you're about to fall apart and now is one of those instances. It clicks for him now why he hasn’t seen you. Azriel catches your arm before you dart away, his touch gentle yet firm “you're avoiding me.” He says, worry etched all over his face as he attempts to pull you into his chest. “I’ve figured it out so you can stop pretending to care about me now.” A tear escapes your waterline and Azriel reaches to thumb away the hurt that he's caused.

You don't give him the chance as you swat his hand away and turn to make your exit. He’s panicking now watching you practically run away from him, as you hurry to get away from his presence.

A wound so intense suddenly opens within his heart. With no other option but to just blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind to keep you close. “I adore you!” he says breathlessly and waits for you to run into his arms so he could kiss you silly. When you turn around to confront him, Elain comes up from behind him and wraps her arms around his middle in a tight squeeze. A picture perfect couple you think to yourself, her innocent personality and bubbly nature a lovely contrast to his tall, dark and handsome. Azriel can’t pry her arms off him in time to chase after you before you rush out of the library, traces of your scent still lingering in the air. 

You run and run you're not sure for how long, just long enough till your tears are dried tracks along your soft cheeks. You find yourself in the arms of your brother, clutching his shirt in your closed fist as you loosen the cries that held your throat hostage. “Hey hey, what's wrong?” he coo’s pulling away just enough to see the heartbreak etched in your pretty face. “Send me away please Rhys, I am begging. I never ask anything of you, it doesn’t have to be forever, just a few months.” Your shoulders are shaking violently as you continue to wail into his chest, the intensity of your cries cracking the high lord into submission. “Are you sure, love? I can fix-” 

“No! There's nothing you can do.” 

Rhys nods, winnowing you to a secret cabin that sits along the border of The Night Court. “Just tell me this. Are you in any danger?” he asks, “because I know Azriel and Cassian or even myself will-” 

You wince at the mention of Azriels name, “I’m not in any danger, brother.” You assure him as you settle on the couch in front of the hearth, pulling a warm throw over your body and curling in on yourself. “Good, that’s good. I’ll talk to Kallias. He has someone he wants you to meet. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hosting you for as long as you need.” Rhysand takes one last look at you, studying how unhappy you look, hoping you can confide in him your troubles, whatever they may be. You lay bundled under the comfort of the blanket, your glossy eyes staring into the flames of the fireplace. It’s heat providing a comfort you wish was someone else's. 

Azriel enters your room frantically searching for you, but he gasps and stumbles back when he sees Cerridwen packing your belongings. “Where is she?” he asks, his voice tense and panicked as he grips her by the shoulders. “I’m afraid I don’t have that information.” 

“Why are you packing her stuff then?” He starts shaking her shoulders, as if it would quicken her answer. “She’ll be visiting the Winter Court and Rhysand requests her favorite items to be sent to her.” 

You were running away from him, when all he wanted was to run toward you. Azriels world shattered completely. If you weren't here to live beside him then he had no interest in living. He had been too complacent in being in the now and not once had he initiated to be something serious. Now he was left with longing. 

That same night Rhysand made accommodations for you to stay in the Winter Courts Palace. Kallias and Vivienne were more than happy to have you stay with them. They were quite eager to introduce you to their son Kit. Hoping that with time you’d become great friends. Kit was the spitting image of his father. His white hair styled to perfection, with not a single strand misplaced. Chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw, pouty lips with Icy blue eyes to match his cool demeanor. His eyes trailed your beautiful curves as he bowed, taking your hand within his, placing a tender kiss to your delicate knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Princess.” 

Your violet eyes met his and for a moment his pretty face made you forget about your heartbreak. Kit extended his elbow to you and without a second doubt you linked your arm with his as he led you to see the beauty of his Court. 

You spent the next two weeks in the company of the future Heir. Kit remained a respectful host. Introducing you to his closest friends, a welcomed change of personalities compared to your friends from home. Each evening he’d join you for dinner. Offering a different restaurant each night in hopes to expand your palate in order to get a feel for your favorite foods.

During your brief stay you opened up to him and told him of the situationship you had with Azriel. You explained to him what you overheard Azriel say and how stupid he made you feel after you confessed your love for him. “I finally saw the way he looked at her and it broke me more than it should have, because I remember when he looked at me the same way.  I heard him tell Cass that I was just the girl he picked to get over her. I never meant anything to him. Yet this whole time it had been real for me and I foolishly fell in love with him.” 

“Oh sweetheart, you deserve to be someone's first and only choice. You’re a Princess of The Night Court, if anyones the stupid one It’s him for not seeing how incredible you are.” With the end of his sweater sleeve, Kit wipes away a stray tear that escaped your waterline. His gentleness is a stark contrast to the ice flowing within his veins. “Besides I hear there's a handsome Prince looking for a warm heart to thaw the coldness in his soul,” he smirks playfully, rocking on the heels on his feet, a look of innocence in his crystal eyes. Your sweet giggle transcends into his favorite song and he makes it a mission to hear it often. 

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

Azriel was tearing himself apart from the inside out. By the third day of being plastered and starting fights with innocent bystanders; Rhys had pulled him off missions until he sobered up enough to function.  All that did was give him a larger drinking window. He visited every winery and brewery in Verlaris, sometimes even forgetting how he got there in the first place.  Drowning in bottles of liquor till he could barely stand, let alone fly or walk or do anything for that matter. Tonight was different from the past two weeks, as he decided to smoke his problems away, alcohol no longer providing the high that made him forget.

 The strain for tonight was Mirthroot laced with Amnesia Haze, a hallucinogenic that could either make your deepest wish a reality or make you completely forget your life's problems.

Azriel couldn’t remember how he got up the steps to the house of wind. He couldn’t remember lots of things as of late. One thing he’d never forget though, was your scent and the way you made him feel. So when he opened the door to the house and your sensual perfume hit his nose he almost fell to his knees with relief.

You were finally home. He could explain himself and tell you that he loved you and that you meant the world to him. Azriel followed your scent like it was second nature. His shadows excitedly rushed up stairs towards your bed chambers, leaving him slightly confused because you were sitting at the kitchen Table.

Your hair was long in flowy waves down your back, a little longer since the last time he saw you. It hadn't been that long had it? It didn’t matter, all he wanted was to hold you in his arms again. Keep you safe in Velaris where you belong. Azriel slowly approached you, his breath shaky as he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Vi?”

Violet, the nickname you were given for your stunning eyes with various shades of purple and blue. Your eyes met his and you smiled, “Hi Az.” 

“Gods I missed you,” he admitted as he pulled you up from the chair, enveloping you in a warm embrace. You were slightly startled at how tight he hugged you. Inhaling your scent deeply as his nose nuzzled against your neck. “I’m so sorry, for everything. Please forgive me?” Azriel cupped your face between his scarred hands, angling you to look up at him. His pupils were large and dilated, a gaze mixed with sorrow and lust.  Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Az? What are you talking about?” 

“Come here, I need to tell you something.” Azriel lifted you onto the kitchen counter, earning a small yelp from your lips. He settled between your knees, making your thin night dress pool around your hips. His hands remained on your exposed thighs, rubbing them softly to keep you warm. His eyes never strayed from yours, like he couldn't believe you were actually here. “I made a mistake and should have never let you feel like you were the wrong choice. I don’t care what Rhys says anymore. I want you.”

His hands inch closer to your center, a silent request to touch you as the other brings your lips to his in a steamy kiss. You nod into the kiss, giving him permission to touch you. Azriel pulls your panties to the side, easily coating his fingers in your arousal, groaning when he feels how wet you already are from his kiss alone. 

Your breath catches when he slips his fingers inside and curls them in a come hither motion. “Oh gods Az, I’ve dreamed of this moment,” you pant into his mouth, needing more of him, anything he's willing to give you’ll take. He then rubs tiny circles on your clit, making you throw your head back so hard it slams against the cupboard in a loud thud. White flashes behind your eyes as your orgasm crashes over you, a giddy smile plastered on your face from the pleasure he's given you. 

You hop off the counter, eager to return the favor. Palming his cock, you notice he's barely hard, a groan escapes his mouth as you fumble with his belt. You pull Azriels pants down along with his underwear, pooling at his ankles, his cock still not fully erect. Your small hand grips him at the base, making him hiss. He sways side to side, eyes closed as he concentrates on getting hard, something he's never had to do before. You pump his shaft. Once. Twice. And then you wrap your lips around his cock and suck, the warmth of your mouth excites him and he stands at attention, finally. “So the rumors are true,” you coo.

“Fuck baby, your mouth feels so good. I Fucken love you.”   

Wait. What rumors?

“Azriel?” 

Azriels eyes fly open. You're standing in the doorway, shaking like a leaf in the wind with a  hand over your mouth. Sobbing loudly into your hand, tears blurring your vision as they escape your waterline. Heavy drops fall to the ground and the only sound heard is the unmistakable ‘pop’ as the female on her knees releases Azriels cock from her mouth.  

Azriel blinks rapidly, shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the haze he's in. He looks down to the female, stuffing his cock back in his pants as she's scrambling to get up. 

“Elain?” he chokes out her name, tears welling in his eyes as he stares at her, devastation in his wide eyes  as he realizes what he's done. What he did to her thinking she was you. His eyes turn to meet yours again, but he only catches your dress billowing as you turn around and run. Your loud wailing echoing in his ears like a hammer to a church bell.

“Vi wait! Please. It’s not what you think!” He yells, rushing past Elain as he sprints after you, needing to reach you before you winnow away.  His heavy footsteps pound against the tile floors, waking up the rest of the inner circle. Just as you're about to reach the knob Azriels arms wrap around your middle, pulling your back to his chest. You both crash to the ground from the force of Azriels tackle. His back meets the hard floor in a loud slam, cushioning your fall. “Let me go!” You plead, kicking and  clawing at his arms that are tightly wrapped around you. “Sshh, baby please. Listen to me.” his voice cracks as he tries to calm you down, “I love you, I love you so much. I thought she was you!! Please believe me!” 

Your voice slices through him, like a dagger to his already bleeding heart. “I hate you!” You scream out in anger, venom lacing every word as it hits its mark. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” 

Darkness envelops the entire room, It’s cold mist threatening to devour anyone who so dares to defy its power. “Azriel, release my sister before I sever those hands off your body.” Rhys stands at the bottom of the stairs, his power bouncing off him like flames of a fire. The rest of the inner circle gathered around him, watching in horror as both males stood off in a staring contest. It’s Azriel who wavers; finally releasing you to shuffle away from him. 

Azriel sits on his heels, a subtle submissive pose showing respect to his High Lord. “Rhys, I’m sorry. I’ve been in love with your sister for some time now. Too cowardice to tell you or her,” Azriels gaze falls on you. “I’ve been a mess since you left. Masking my pain with alcohol and drugs, which is no excuse. But tonight I took a hallucinogen, and,” his chin wobbles as he tries to hold back his tears, “I made the biggest mistake of my life. I know I’ve lost you, and you will never forgive me. However, I need you to know, in front of everyone, that I have always loved you. I will always love you.” 

Azriel lowers his head. The flood of emotions finally pulled him under the surface, drowning him in his own misery. Fat heavy tears break from his eyes; landing in scattered drops along the floor beneath him. This pain is all consuming, torturous in its own vile way. Tearing at his heart shred by shred, a disastrous mess all by his own hands. A lonely scarred heart to match his scarred hands. Hands that once held the most precious gem, a rare Violet beauty; now only hold the memory of a lost love. 

When Azriel lifts his head to see your face for the last time, he’s once again too late. Fear latches onto his ankles like a heavy chain, anchoring him to the bottom of the sea. You’re gone. His darkness driving away your bright light, leading you into the arms of someone new.  

Part 2 (Something Borrowed)

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x fem!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar #winter court

[b00kdiary]

Stay With Me | Rhysand (II)

Rhysand x Plus size reader

Y/N gets hurt during a mission- and Rhysand is more than willing to be the one to take care of her.

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, blood and gore, and smut.

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

PART ONE

PART THREE

"Cassian, for Cauldron's sake," I scowl, my hands weakly slapping against his broad, solid chest for the fifth time. "Will you put me down? I can walk-"

"Y/N, you have a dagger embedded to the hilt in your fucking thigh," Cassian grimaced, cocking his head down at me, his hazel eyes flaring as he glances down at my wounded leg, his strong arms holding me to his chest so carefully. "You won't be able to stand, never mind walk."

I grumble irate, looking away and dropping my hands back onto my lap with a pout. I hear Azriel chuckle softly, his tall figure following closely behind us as Cassian carries me through the House of Wind.

"Where- where's Rhys?" I ask, my head peeking over Cassian's shoulder, trying to see through the gaps in his powerful wings- looking for those stary eyes and a breathtaking smile. I wince when a sharp pain shoots up my leg, even if my mind is preoccupied with the fact Rhys is nowhere to be found.

"Now you want to know about Rhys," Cassian mutters under his breath and the passive-aggressive tone catches me off guard. I lift my eyes to his hard face, but he doesn't meet my gaze, his jaw locked and eyes staring straight ahead.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand, my eyes narrowing but Cassian doesn't reply, he doesn't even react. Instead, he stalks into the lounge, his grip tightening around my body as the fire blazes to life.

"Rhys is dealing with the remaining Hybern soldiers," Azriel clears his throat, coming to stand beside us, his eyes flickering over Cassian's face contemplatively. "He said he would be back as soon as he was done."

Dealing with Hybern, he didn't need to explain what that meant.

"Madja's on her way now," Cassian states and he doesn't give me a second to speak before he marches over to the plush, large green sofa situated directly in front of the fireplace, his movements stiff as he lays me flat against the cushions.

"Cassian, wait-" I frown, groaning as I grab on his arm as it slips out from under me, stopping him from pulling away. "What's wrong with you? You're being-"

"An asshole," He finishes, and upon seeing the hurt in my eyes and then the wound steadily leaking blood over the sofa, he sighs, his handsome face melting into a dejected frown. "I'm acting like an absolute asshole, I know I'm- I'm sorry."

"It's alright, I'm just surprised," I swallow, and relief fills me when his eyes soften, when the Cassian I know and love seems to reappear as he settles on his knees beside me, his large hands cupping mine gently. "I've never been on the receiving end of your anger, Cass."

"I'm not angry, just frustrated," He admits and when I raise a sharp brow at him, he shrugs, "You've been avoiding Rhysand for weeks, Y/N and I don't like seeing the two of you so at odds."

My eyes widen in surprise at his words, and I feel the scrutinising stares of Cassian and Azriel before me, their eyes tracing over every reaction and breath I make.

"I haven't been avoiding him," I swallow, gritting my teeth as Azriel slides a pillow under my right thigh, elevating the injured leg, "I've been busy-"

"Bullshit," Cassian scoffs, and I narrow my eyes at him when his grip on my hand tightens forcing my gaze to his again, "You've been avoiding him and we all know it, Rhys most of all."

"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about," I breathe roughly, and both the males before me share a disbelieving glance between them, one that makes me scowl. "Seriously, I don't- Madja, you're here!"

Relief, pure relief at the sight of the dark-skinned female, her spindrift hair in disarray and her brown eyes narrowing in disapproval at the dagger's hilt poking out of my thigh as she strode into the lounge.

"Thank you to whoever elevated her leg, you've made this easier for us both," Madja greets and Azriel nods unconsciously at her praise. "Let's see what the damage is."

Cassian's knowing eyes don't relent upon me but as Madja crouches on the floor, he rises, sighing as he lets go of my hand, letting it fall between us. I gnaw on my lip at the silence, but I manage a strained smile at the healer before me.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Madja," I focus on my breathing as her delicate hands press around the entry point of my injury, her fingertips turning stark red immediately.

"You have a hunting dagger in your thigh, Y/N," Madja raises a pointed brow at me, and when I whimper, my jaw locking tight at the tender pain, her face melts into a frown. "I'm going to have to pull this out inch by inch and thread the skin together as I go."

"I hate Hybern soldiers," I mutter dismally, my head lolling back against the pillow and my eyes meeting the worn ceiling, counting the cracks one by one to calm the panic clawing at me. "Do it, do whatever you need to Madja."

I feel their eyes on me, all of them, but when I curl both my hands into steeled fists when I grit my teeth and clamp my eyes shut, I feel Madja sigh- and her hands come to that dagger.

I wish Rhysand was here.

That's the first thought I have, I'm not sure why. I picture his violet gaze and lazy smile and the sound of his laugh, warm and wonderful and somehow, I feel better.

Though it doesn't last long.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!"

A swarm of dark, furious power hits me, hits everyone in the room at the same time that violent, death-incarnate voice bellows out the words. I startle, my body jolting and my eyes snapping back open and moving to the entryway.

Rhysand- covered in blood.

Staining his hands and arms and torso and chest, as if he had ripped apart the males with his bare hands. Splattered across his neck and jaw and cheeks, as if he had been ferocious and merciless with his assault.

And the smell, it wasn't one soldier or two, no, it was dozens and dozens of them. All their scents, all their blood and gore and their fear spread over Rhysand like a second skin and all I could think was that he hadn't stopped.

He hadn't spoken or breathed or thought- he had just killed and killed and killed.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Y/N?!" Rhysand demanded again, his eyes as dark as midnight, his voice as terrifying as I had ever heard it as he glared at me, his chest rising and falling so fast.

"Rhys-" Cassian warns from behind me, but Rhysand can't hear him, I don't think he can hear anything over the roaring anger in his head. I see it in the way he marches forward, see it in every hard and brutal inch of his muscled and lean form the closer he gets.

"You got in the way, that soldier was coming for me-" He seethed, stopping at the back of the sofa, and my eyes blinked heavily as he clamped down two large, ringed hands onto the material, nails cutting into the material to calm his fury. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I didn't feel like dealing with your whining when he stabbed you," I grit out, my voice as cold as ice, as cold as Rhysand's as I glared up at him, the anger distracting me from the burning erupting through my leg. "Forgive me for saving you, Rhysand, next time-"

"Next time?" He laughs, a cruel, awful sound and I fought through the fatigue, forcing myself to watch his midnight eyes narrow, to see his lip curl back to reveal his sharp canines as he towered above me. "If you think you're joining us on another mission again darling, then you're not as smart as you like to think you are."

"Rhys now really isn't the time-" Azriel stepped forward, his shadows dancing wildly over his shoulders, the tension and raging emotion in the room making them more chaotic. Rhysand doesn't look at Azriel, he doesn't look at anyone but at me- intense, consuming, powerful.

And I can't look away from him.

"Oh, bite me Rhysand," I snarl, my own canines flashing as I tilt my head up to his, my hair sticking to the sweat on my forehead, my heart hammering in my chest, and my whole body sore from the aftermath of the fight- but still I snarl at him.

"If the two of you are done quarrelling," Madja sighs, drawing us away from our heated argument and it's her words that remind me why we're here- reminds me of the agonising, throbbing pain now lancing through my leg. "I need quiet and calm so I can focus please."

"I'm sorry that you're being burdened on your day off with this, Madja," Rhysand breathes, and despite his voice quietening, every word was sharp and low, full of contempt. I grit my teeth painfully as Madja inches the dagger out of my thigh, so fucking slowly.

"Rhysand," I hiss, the cut of the razor-fine blade as it's eased out, accompanied by the burning light of Madja's magic making bile rise in my throat, "Shut up."

She drags it up another inch and I bite down on my cheek, metal and bitterness filling my mouth, coating my tongue, invading my senses, but it doesn't distract me from the pain.

"Now who's whining?" Rhysand taunted darkly, and I felt the feel of his shadows and starlight dancing around me, over me, laden with anger and frustration. I couldn't open my eyes, couldn't look at him, or speak to him.

Not as Madja dragged out the blade another inch.

"Rhysand-" I warned, my throat as rough as glass now, my hands clenching at either side, so hard my nails cut into my palms, carving crescent moons.

There was a lot of blood, gallons of it, and Madja's hands pressed down firmer, her strength astounding as she tried to staunch the blood flow, working her magic over my severed skin.

"C'mon darling," Rhysand purred, and I blinked my heavy eyelids open to see his violet gaze, dark and cruel and mocking, the beast in him rearing its head as he watched me. My eyes were like steel, and I let every atom of loathing I had for him at this moment show.

It was almost menacing, the look in his eyes, the blood covering his skin, the arrogance in his words.

"Fuck you-"

The words die on my tongue, they turn to ash in my lungs and all my anger vanishes, replaced by one thing- unbelievable pain. Madja pulls the blade free, and I feel it like a shock current through my entire being, so strong I gasp out desperately.

And Rhysand's whole demeanour flips, like a switch.

The anger? Gone. The frustration? Gone. The shadows and violence that had sullied his eyes? Gone.

All gone- replaced by something... scared? Yes, he was scared. He heard that desperate sound rip from my lips, smelt the blood oozing from me in waves, saw my face tighten with unfathomable pain and he was scared.

I saw it in the way his face dropped, paled, that arrogant smile vanishing instantly, a deep frown carving in its place. A worry so strong it creased his brow, sharpened his handsome face, and made his broad form turn unnaturally still.

"Rhys," I choke out his name, and it's that one word on my lips, that one name, his name, that has him moving in an instant. One second, he's towering over me from behind the sofa's back and then the next, he's knelt by my side, his face inches from mine.

"Shit, Y/N," Rhysand sighed, and I saw the hurt in his eyes as he flickered his gaze over me, tracing over every inch of my face, seeing my visceral reaction to everything Madja was doing. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"That's better," I laugh hoarsely, my eyes welling with heavy tears as I glance at Rhys, trying to focus on the night-blooming jasmine and ocean breeze scent of his skin, under all the grime and blood. "I hate when you use your High Lord's voice on me."

"Me too, darling," He manages a strained smile and I sigh when his hand comes to my face, brushing away my damp hair before moving to cup my cheek, his thumb smoothing over the tears slowly leaking.

"Nearly done," Madja mutters and Rhys glances to the side, his nose flaring at the sight of my blood soaking the cushions, his eyes predatory as he sees Madja's magic close the wound bit by bit. "There was some kind of poison coating the blade, it's resisting my magic, that's why it's taking so long."

"And why it's hurting so much?" I muse, blinking away my tears as I look at the healer, and her grim nod tells me all I need to know. "I really fucking hate Hybern soldiers."

Rhysand laughed, I felt the brush of his warm breath, minty with a hint of bourbon infiltrate my senses and when my eyes met his again, I let myself sink into the stars and constellations, let myself bathe in the feel of him.

"This is the longest you've looked me in the eyes in weeks," Rhysand mutters, and despite the teasing in his words, his eyes held a different story- a sadder one.

"Almost forgot how beautiful you were." He whispered through my mind, and I heard the yearning in every single word as it echoed through me.

"Always such a flirt," I say back, and the room is near-silent as we stare at each other, Rhysand's lip tilting at the corner as he watches me, "I'm sorry, Rhys-"

"Don't" His lips purse, his hand cupping my cheek firmer, forcing my eyes to him, to see the sincerity on his face, "Don't worry about that now."

I managed a small nod, smiling softly at him but the conversation, the conflict hung heavy in the air between us still. I had been avoiding him, like the plague, since that night in the cabin, since we did what we did.

"The poison's slowing down the healing process, I've done what I can for now," Madja says, but her voice sounds further away and it's only then I realise my eyes are fluttering closed, that my body is starting to melt into oblivion. "She needs rest."

I vaguely hear the sound of their low voices as they speak, but as the darkness starts to creep over me, all I can feel is Rhysand's thumb brushing my cheek, his touch unbearably soft and endearing, as if lulling me to sleep.

"Stay with me, Rhys."

A star-flecked hand runs across the expanse of my mind, adoringly, and I feel the distinct feel of his lips at my temple, lingering and firm, pressing a sweet kiss there before pulling away.

"Always, darling."

***

I sense him before I even open my eyes.

He’s erected a shield around me, I feel it ripple in response to every rise and fall of breath in my lungs, a shield of shadows and starlight, a shield of his very essence made to protect me while I slept.

I think it might have been healing me too- fighting whatever vile magic Hybern coated that dagger with, working to ease the pain that had been a forever presence burning through my thigh.

“You’re awake,” Rhysand’s voice greets me as I blink my eyes open, the room dim with Fae light and I smile faintly as the shield he made disappears, flickering out like stars around me. “How do you feel?”

A dull ache throbs through my head as I turn to the side, to where Rhysand sits on the edge of his chair- broad shoulders tense, arms braced on his powerful thighs and his beautiful face hard with worry.

Not a splatter of blood remained on him. Clean, regal, the Rhysand I knew.

“I’m-“ My voice splinters, dehydration making the air cut like glass through my lungs and as I screw my eyes shut, body wrecking with coughs, Rhysand’s immediately at my side. I winced as his large hand slipped under me, fingers curling around my waist to sit me up.

“Here, darling, drink,” His voice shook, but the command was still there, and I could do nothing but brace my weak hands against his corded chest, lips parting when he pressed a water bottle to my mouth, hands agonisingly soft as I slowly sipped from it.

A satisfied moan slipped from me as the cold water ran down my throat, and I felt Rhysand’s hand tighten around my body, fingers digging possessively into my flesh at the soft sound. I sighed as he pulled the bottle away, my weak body slumping back against the pillows behind me.

“Thank you,” I whispered and when my head lifted, meeting his violet gaze, my face softened at the concern in his face, the pain, hating every second of hurt I was in. “I’m alright, Rhys, just a bit weak, but I’m going to be alright.”

His throat bobs roughly and there’s a tense silence that seems to stretch on as he bows his head, his lean form sat on the edge of the bed beside me, his hands resting on either side of my hips- as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go, as if he needed to touch me to know I was really here.

I gnaw on my lip at the hurt twisting his lovely face, nothing of the arrogant and smirking High Lord I knew present. No, not at his darkening gaze stayed locked on my bandaged thigh, blood staining the fabric, nothing but the oversized linen shirt I wore covering me.

“I should have been paying attention,” He breathes, a ragged, awful sound and my eyes widen at the way his shoulder curves inwards as if he was physically carrying the burden of his guilt. “I should have torn that bastard to pieces the second I saw him near you.”

“Don’t Rhys, don’t do that, don’t blame yourself,” I plead sharply, my hand coming to his face, cupping his strong jaw, and lifting those starry eyes to me- hating that nothing shined in them, nothing but unshed tears. “I got in the way knowing what would happen, because I would rather it be me than you.”

“I should have protected you-“ He growls, teeth flashing, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Don’t be an overprotective asshole, Rhys, I’m as much of a warrior as you are,” I raise a brow and for a second amusement danced in his eyes, tilts his lip just barely. I soothe my thumb across his jaw, smiling softly, “We protect each other, that’s what we do.”

He chuckles, and fuck, if the sound doesn’t make something warm and full fill my heart.

“I love it when you get all angry with me, darling,” Rhysand pressed his cheek into my palm, a roguish grin stretching across his face and something darkened his gaze, something molten as he stared at me, “It’s very attractive.”

“Always such a flirt,” I tease, but the breath gets tighter in my throat as Rhysand inches closer to me, as if some magnet drew us together, an unstoppable force that made it so hard for the two of us to look away.

My tongue darts out, wetting my bottom lip and Rhysand’s eyes drop to my mouth, and he’s getting closer, so closer that I feel every atom in me tense in anticipation of his lips meeting mine.

“Shit-“

I jump, Rhysand sucking in a sharp breath, the both of us so surprised that we spring apart- eyes flashing to the medical basket that appeared on the bed beside us with a soft thud.

“It seems Madja is reminding me that you need to change your bandages,” Rhys grits out through clenched teeth, and I would laugh at the ire on his face as he grabs the basket- if I weren’t blushing so hard, I could feel my skin burning.

I draw my hands to my lap, fiddling aimlessly with my fingers as Rhysand pulls out the vials and binds his long, nimble fingers, gracefully laying out the objects on the bed beside him, handsome face pursed with concentration as looked over the items one by one.

I stayed silent as he shifted on the bed, tugging back the comforter from my body, and I swallowed down the lump in my throat as his eyes slid down my form, calloused hands moving so surely as stretched my leg over his lap, fingers tugging at my bloodied bandage.

“I can do that, you know,” I mutter, my back tensing at the feel of his fingers moving across the flesh of my thigh, his eyes unwavering on my bare leg as he unwrapped the bind. “You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” He said simply, eyes glancing up at me through dark lashes and I saw the gleam, knowing every touch, every caress made something blaze to life in me- seemed to enjoy having that kind of power.

“Besides, it’s my turn to take care of you now,” He muttered roughly, and his tone, the grumble that purred through his chest, told me that changing my bandages wasn’t all he meant. “Just relax for me, yeah?”

He cocks his head, waiting for me to answer- and all I can do is nod, sinking back into the pillows.

There’s a long silence as Rhysand discards the bloodied bandage on the floor beside us, and I winced at the jagged scar that traced the inner part of my thigh- red and angry, small unhealed sections of skin still leaking blood, the poison actively fighting Madja’s healing.

“I should have made his suffering last longer,” Rhys panted, such terrifying, cold violence in his voice, in his eyes as he stared at that wound, and the room seemed to vibrate with the strength of his raging power. “I should have torn him limb by fucking limb for doing this to you.”

“You made him regret it in the end,” I said gently, remembering that Hybern soldier before me one second and then ash on the wind the next. Rhys curled his fingers around my other thigh, fingers teasing the skin, so close to where I wanted him. “We’re here, he’s not.”

“Right as always, darling,” His throat works and he watches, I watch, as his hand traces up my thigh, over my cellulite and stretch marks and as he curves his way between my legs, I keen, thighs inching apart for him.

I gnaw on my lip in anticipation as his thumb swoops back and forth, callouses tickling my inner thigh, so close to my core I can feel him brushing my underwear. My stomach coils with need and I know Rhys can smell my arousal, thick and desperate and strong in the air.

His nose flares, and I feel his power rumbling from him as if the mere smell of me was enough to have him trembling.

Another brush of his thumb, so close yet so far and my back bows, my core clenching around nothing, the pain in my leg gone now, overwhelmed by the wetness that seems to grow and grow between my thighs.

“Rhys,” I gasped, almost whining as my chest rose and fell like tidal waves, and he glanced at me with eyes like melted chocolate and raised one dark brow in a challenge, “Stop being such a tease.”

“Or what?” He crooned mockingly, I gasped when his thumb inched forward, barely grazing over the front of my damp panties, the pressure so hollow that it was there and gone in seconds. “You’ll find someone else to take care of you?”

I tugged my shirt higher up my stomach, satisfaction filling me when Rhysand’s smirk fell, and like a hunter with prey his eyes narrowed down on my exposed underwear, the black lace barely covering my pulsing cunt.

“So? Should I call Cassian in?” I managed to grit out, enough arrogance in my tone to hide the lust clouding my voice and Rhysand went still, “Or are you going to- oh-“

It was stupid, to taunt the High Lord of the Night Court so brazenly- but I was so fucking glad that I had.

Because one second his thumb was taunting the edge of my underwear and then the next, he had hooked it under the material- and ripped it off.

“This what you want, huh?” Rhysand muses hotly, fingers slipping past my wet folds almost angrily, and I moaned as his callouses rubbed harshly at my clit. “Goading me into touching your cunt, using another male to piss me off?”

“Rhys,” I whimpered, back arching as he circled the pad of his thumb in brash circles, pressing down hard enough that I could feel every single callous, centuries of battle training, deliciously scraping me. “Don’t stop-“

Rhys groaned low in his throat, and I could feel his attention washing over me like waves, pure male satisfaction on his face when he turned his hand, stuffing two fingers into me without warning.

“Fuck, fuck, Rhys-“

“You should see how tight you’re wrapped around me right now, darling,” He growled low, and I could feel my walls suffocating his fingers as he fucked them in and out of me, not even my slopping wetness enough to ease how I clamped around him. “You think you can take another?”

Another finger prods at my entrance and all I can do is lock my ankle around Rhysand’s back, sinking myself further down his fingers as a third digit joins- and the burn, it hurts so fucking good.

Rhys leans forward and my shaking hand finds purchase on his shoulder, curling around the flexing muscles, feeling every stroke of his fingers in and out, getting faster and harder now. I can’t stop the sounds that tear from me, my eyes clamping shut as his fingers stretch me, brushing my walls in a way that makes it impossible to breathe.

“Rhys, I’m close, so close-“ I gasp, and that confession seems to be like a personal challenge for Rhys, edging him on as he curls those fingers deep inside of me, toying his thumb against my clit with every rough jolt.

“Open your eyes, Y/N,” Rhys commanded, voice like midnight- his High Lord's voice and I had no choice but to rip my eyes open, to meet his burning, wild gaze, loving and hating the pleased grin he gave me. “Wanna watch your pretty eyes roll while you come around my fingers.”

I was shaking now, sweat coating my forehead and it took everything in me to not flutter my eyes closed, took everything in me to stare into his violet gaze and let his hand fuck brutally inside me- let him watch me.

He loved watching me, I saw it in his eyes, in his smile, felt it in how easily he clued onto how my body reacted- knowing how hard to press his thumb against my clit to make my back arch, knowing what angle to hook his fingers inside me to make me cry his name.

And as he shoved his thick fingers in until his knuckles inside me and hooked them up, he got his wish, got to see as that chord within me splintered to pieces and my eyes rolled back as I came.

“Rhys I’m-“ I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body writhing against his hand, trying to pull away as he still moved those fingers inside me, but he clamped down another hand on my stomach, fingers holding my flesh possessively to keep me in place.

“C’mon darling,” Rhysand cooed, his voice almost cruel, almost patronising as he fucked me through my orgasm, my walls clenching around his fingers again and again, my orgasm spreading through my thighs and stomach and hips like glass. “I’ve got you, your High Lord’s right here.”

I whimpered at the humour in his dark tone, my legs closing around Rhysand’s hand- a mixture of overstimulation from his touch and the filthy words he poured like honey into my ear.

“Too much, too much I can’t-“

He chuckled, like the prick that he is, but mercifully, his fingers stopped, hand halting inside me and I instantly sagged with relief.

I could feel Rhysand’s power thrumming around us, frantic and powerful as if blazing brighter at my climax, at seeing me fall apart. I winced as he slipped his fingers out from me, and he seemed to melt back into being unbearably sweet as he languished his hand along my thigh, waiting for me to catch my breath.

I blinked my eyes open, fighting the exhaustion that ran through me, rooted deep inside me and smiled at the sea of violet and stars that stared back at me.

“I don’t think that was the kind of care Madja meant, Rhys,” I breathe, my voice trembling as tendrils of my climax faded away and the grin that stretched across his face, it was fucking beautiful.

“Well technically I did change your bandage,” He cocked his head, eyes gleaming and only then did I notice the sheet of stars and moonlight wrapped around my thighs, a blanket of Rhysand’s power, iridescent as the night sky outside over my wound- protecting and healing.

“Thank you,” I giggled quietly, pleasantly amazed and the air in the room felt so light as our gazes met, his hand still caressing sweetly against my thigh. He must sense the words on the tip of my tongue because he inches closer, face bright with understanding.

“Rhys, what we-“

“Y/N!”

A tall figure bursts through my room door and I only see flashes of long blonde hair and two sets of wings before Rhysand shifts in front of me, his large body shielding my bareness and his face is beyond frustrated as he tugs down my top, until the material is scraping my mid-thigh.

“Are you okay?” Mor comes rushing in, oblivious to what she just walked in on, and I cringe as Rhysand purses his lips and shuffles back to give the female space as she practically launches at my side. “I heard what happened-“

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I chuckle uncomfortably, seeing the worry in her brown eyes and I smile when she wraps her arms around me, hugging me suffocatingly tight. “Mor, honestly I’m fine.”

“Rhysand’s been taking care of her,” Azriel muses quietly and I shoot him a scathing glare over Mor’s shoulder, seeing his lip tilt at the corner. Rhys rolls his eyes, but I can see the satisfaction in his eyes, that they knew.

Knew that he was the one that made me feel as good as I did.

And something akin to wildfire burns through my blood when I slide my gaze down his body, to the hard, long imprint of his cock straining against his slacks. I swallow at the sight; my mouth watering and I feel a brush of claws tease against my mind.

As if to say- later.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Mor sighed, before plopping down on the chair by my bed. Rhysand sighed- a truly irate and defeated sound like he couldn’t believe our family had just walked in on us like he was getting very tired of all the interruptions. “When Cassian called me, I came as soon as I could.”

“Thank you, Mor,”  I smile, glancing at her to my side and my body tingles when Rhys pulls the comforter over my body, fingers brushing my breasts as he does so.

I don’t miss the smile he tries to hide.

“Speaking of me,” Cassian steps forward, an absolutely delighted grin stretching his face, eyes flashing knowingly between me and Rhys and my brows furrow when Rhysand’s face darkens like he wants to lunge at the male.

“Did I hear Y/N mention my name earlier?”

_______________________________

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part 3??

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhysand smut #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #smut #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #acotar smut #plus size reader #sjmaas #rhysand x plus size reader #acotar fanfiction #fluff #rhys x reader #rhysand fanfic #sarah j maas #hofas

[thehighladywrites]

— “Still wanna fuck me, Azzie?”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor az x bimbo/ditzy/popular reader

☀︎ — summary: you invite your tutor to a movie night and somewhere along the way it ended up with him giving you a facial

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, oral (m. receiving), bimbo reader, virginity loss, making out, daddy az showing you what he has learned, getting your pussy pounded, possessive thoughts, jealous thoughts, az telling reader he wants to eat her out, rhys and cass make a cameo!

☀︎ — amara’s note: sorry for the wait, the smut was killing me but i hope you enjoy hookers!!

series masterlist

”Ahh, yes, oh my god!! Fuck me harder daddy, I’m gonna cum!!! Yes, yes, yesss!!!!”

Azriel slammed his laptop shut and stared at the wall, his face burning with a deep flush, dick stirring, and heart pounding.

Was this really how sex was supposed to be like? He had looked up ‘sex tutorial’ and clicked on the first link, which led him to a dark and inviting porn website. A million flashing signs about nearby milfs and pills to enlarge his dick by atleast 5 inches decorated the screen.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about the situation felt incredibly sketchy. Especially with the video he was currently watching; ‘cute next-door-neighbor gets fucked by handsome mailman.’

The theatrical moans and exaggerated expressions felt forced, fake and unreal. Even tho Azriel had never had a women under him, he wasn't naive enough to believe that any of it was genuine.

He huffed out a sigh and undressed to take a much needed cold shower. Your movie night plans were later this night and he wanted to make sure he atleast knew how to please you.

You had only sat in his lap and he had practically melted. While he loved that you knew what you were doing, he also wanted a sense of control and knowledge. Azriel always figured something out if he really put his mind to it, and best believe he would learn how to proper please you.

The line between what you two were had become increasingly blurry. Were you just tutor and student or could it be possible that you were both experiencing the same fluttering feelings?

Azriel kept thinking about how had he wanted to be with you, even though he had only known you for a few weeks. You were an absolute sweetheart to him, always clinging to him during the tutoring sessions and being a light in his life he didn’t want snuffed out.

After the shower, he made a decision to meet up with his friends for some advice before heading over to your apartment.

—

Rhysand's spacious living room suddenly echoed with Cassian's booming voice. “Holy fuck, you're finally going to raw-dog a girl?”

The surprising statement grabbed Rhysand's attention, curiosity sparking in his eyes. Just who had Azriel finally taken an interest in?

Azriel shot Cassian an unamused scowl, rolling his eyes as he sipped on the expensive scotch Rhysand had decided to test out.

“No need to scream, Cassian. Yes, I'm going to have intercourse. And don't call it raw-dogging. It sounds disgusting.”

Rhysand raised an amused eyebrow at Azriel's response. “Don't call it intercourse. It sounds too clinical.”

Azriel shrugged. “Fine. I'm getting laid, happy?”

Cassian chuckled. “That's more like it!”

Rhys rolled his eyes playfully. “Just be safe, Az. And have fun.”

Azriel slowly nodded, looking down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid around.

Cassian narrowed his eyes, studying Azriel's every move. Azriel lifted his eyes and met his gaze with equal intensity.

“What are you looking at?” Azriel demanded.

Cassian grinned mischievously. “Do you even know what to do? I mean, you haven’t fucked anyone before, so, do you know how to fuck properly? How to make a girl cum?” he teased.

Azriel's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he shifted uncomfortably under Cassian's scrutinizing gaze.

“I, uh... did some research,” he admitted, his voice slightly muffled as he avoided eye contact.

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a knowing glance, a smirk playing at the corners of their lips as they both realized what Azriel was implying.

“What do you mean research? Like you watched porn?”

Azriel's blush deepened, his ears turning pink as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah... something like that,” he muttered, hoping the ground would swallow him whole.

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter, their chuckles echoing in the spacious living room. Azriel pushed his glasses up so they held back his hair and rubbed his eyes, stressed. After a moment, Rhysand clapped Azriel on the back with a grin.

“Don't worry, brother. We'll teach you all the tricks the ladies go crazy for,” he assured him, his tone laced with promising advice.

—

After a few hours of vivid explanations, videos, and personal advice on how to please a lady, Azriel was more than ready to make you happy.

Azriel stood in front of the snack aisle, feeling the pressure to choose the perfect treats. Snacking was usually his thing, but why was it so damn hard this time? Determined to get it right, he debated between chips that could leave him with sour cream and onions breath and popcorn with an overwhelming variety.

Opting for salted popcorn, he moved to the sweets section. Rummaging through his memory for your favorites, he snatched up two packs of your sour strawberry candies and tossed in a blue raspberry pack because it was his favorite, and he wanted you to try it too.

Finally reaching the counter, just before he paid, he glanced at the condoms on the wall. The old lady at the counter followed his gaze.

“You need some, boy?” she asked, her voice surprisingly loud in the quiet store.

He quickly looked around to make sure no one else had heard, then, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks, he grabbed a packet of extra-large condoms.

—

With your hands on your hips and a narrowed gaze, you looked at the options in your massive closet, feeling on the verge of screaming bloody murder.

None of your clothes seemed good enough for tonight, and despite the fact that it’s supposed to be just a movie night, you knew it was likely to lead to something more.

You'd rather die than be unprepared for what tonight might bring. Your overflowing walk-in closet wasn't cutting it at all, so you had to leave on a last-minute emergency shopping trip. And let's face it, running around in Saks with six-inch heels is no easy feat.

“Alice, it’s an emergency. I need to see the latest collection of lingerie from Agent Provocateur. I know they’re not out in shops until November but is there a chance you can let it slide? Pretty please?” you ask sweetly, flashing your signature smile.

Your usual sales assistant, Alice, whom you've gotten to know well from your frequent visits, returns your smile and gestures toward a private showroom, handing you a flute full of Moët as she leads the way.

A few minutes later, Alice returns with a whole rack in tow, each piece of beautiful lace underwear causing your jaw to drop in awe.

The collection was absolutely incredible, featuring intricate lace, luxurious silk, and sparkling Swarovski diamonds adorning the bras. Your eyes widened to the size of saucers as you watched her pull out each piece, unable to contain your excitement.

As Alice presents each set, her voice filled with enthusiasm and admiration for the craftsmanship, you watch attentively, absorbing every detail.

“This one features hand-stitched lace imported from France,” she explains, holding up a delicate bralette.

You nod, impressed, as she continues to another blue set, “And this one has intricate embroidery along the edges, giving it a touch of playfulness.”

When she mentions another set with sparkling Swarovski diamonds adorning a particularly stunning bra, you can't help but gasp in awe. You reach into your handbag and pull out your black card. “I need the entire thing,” you declare with conviction, your tone leaving no room for doubt as you're already envisioning yourself in every piece.

“Are you sure you want the entire collection, Ms. L/n?” she asks, a hint of surprise in her voice.

You meet her gaze with unwavering determination. “Absolutely,” you reply without hesitation. “I need to look hot tonight.”

“I'll wrap them all up and tell Pierre to put them in your trunk while you finish your drink. I just know you will look amazing in them,” she says with a wink.

You squeal with excitement, giving Alice a hug that almost knocks over a display. “Thanks, Alice! You're a total lifesaver!” you exclaim before darting out of the boutique.

—

Azriel thought he had prepared himself for everything, but nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked when you opened the door. The wind was nearly knocked out of him as his lips twitched into a shy smile.

You flashed him your adorable grin as you looked up at him.

“Hi Azzie!! Come in, we’re gonna have so much fun. I’ve been looking forward to this forever.”

Before he could respond, you grabbed his hand and closed the door behind him. The moment he stepped inside, you enveloped him in a long, warm hug, nestling into his sturdy chest as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I missed you so, so, soooo much. Oh, I also passed my math test. Oh but only because I remembered your lame technique and used it.”

Azriel looked down at the top of your head and wrapped his tattooed arms around your shoulders. He was sure his heartbeat was dangerously quick, but he still pulled you in closer.

“That's fantastic news. I knew you could do it. I’m proud of you.”

He was bummed when you let go of him, but his mood improved when you took his hand and led him to the living room. You guided him to the sofa and playfully pushed him backward until he landed on the mountain of pink fluffy blankets.

“Make yourself comfy. I’ll be right back,” you said, grabbing the bag filled with snacks. Leaning down, you kissed him slowly, loving the way his lips felt against yours, before getting up and leaving.

Azriel grinned, feeling a rush of warmth as he watched you go. He couldn't help but let his eyes linger on your body, admiring the way you moved. Absentmindedly, he licked his lips, his thoughts consumed by what was coming.

Azriel leaned back, stretching his legs out on the cushions as he debated how to position himself. Should he leave one arm on the back of the sofa, inviting you to cuddle in beside him? But then he wondered if that was too forward and presumptuous, maybe you wanted some space.

He put down his arm and crossed them against his chest, but then realized he looked angry or something.

“I look like an idiot,” he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes in frustration. Finally, he decided to be bold and put his arms behind the sofa. After all, he did want you close to him.

He jumped slightly when you came back and had a tray filled with all the delicious snacks he had bought.

You but the tray down and sat on the sofa, crawling closer and closer to him as you put on the movie.

—

Obviously, neither of you were paying attention to the movie as you were both busy with feeling each other up and making out only 8 minutes into the movie.

He had started out by slowly rubbing your back. But you decided to speed things up, gently placing your manicured hand on his abs and lightly scratching. That seemed to be enough to set him off, as he immediately got hard and started kissing you needingly.

You pivoted, sitting on top of him as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Azriel swallowed at the feeling of your soft boobs pressed against his chest.

His hands traveled further down your back, slipping into your shorts and starting to massage your ass with a firm grip. Meanwhile, his mouth moved to start making bruises on your neck, each kiss leaving a mark of his desire.

Your eyes widened at his confident move, noting how he had become more forward since last time. It was quite the change from the last time when he couldn’t even look at you without a shirt on.

It piqued your curiosity. Did he have someone else on the side? How was he already making you feel so weak? All he did was squeeze your ass and kiss your neck, yet here you were, grinding in his lap. So, you asked, your tone a bit pouty and filled with uncertainty.

“Hey, are you like, fucking someone else on the side?” you blurted out, your perfectly shaped brows furrowing dramatically as you pouted your glossy lips. You were feeling a whirlwind of emotions, and your over-the-top, dramatic ass reaction was a mix of concern and hurt. Even though you didn't have any evidence, the mere thought of him with someone else was enough to make you feel like you'd just die.

Azriel's cloudy, lustful eyes cleared up real fast, and he sat up straighter, a hand on your back to keep you from falling as he panicked at the sadness in your glossed-over eyes.

“No, no, no. What makes you think that?” he asked gently, his voice tinged with concern. Subconsciously, he rubbed your thighs in comfort, his own brows furrowing in worry.

“Because, like, you're really good now. And you’ve never even touched a girl before me, so what’s up? How did you even learn how to do make me wet?” you exclaimed, your voice high-pitched and filled with drama. Your glossy eyes were wide with emotion as you awaited his response, your lower lip trembling ever so slightly.

Azriel wanted to kiss that pouty look off your face but he wasn’t that bold yet. Just the thought made him flustered.

But wait, he made you wet? Cassian had said that girls getting wet was a very good sign because it meant he was doing something you liked.

“It’s not like that. I have not spoken to another girl, I assure you. But I did some research because I wanted to make you feel good. Do you feel good?” he asked curiously, with hungry eyes.

“Oh, okay, well that’s perfect! No other girls, okay? And yeah, I mean, I feel super good. Like, really, really good.” you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of airheadedness as you flashed him a bright, bubbly smile.

“Can I blow you, pleaseeeee?” you asked, your hands softly caressing his chest, your face hovering just inches from his. He chuckled, his fingers fidgeting nervously behind your back.

“You can do whatever you want to me,” he said, and he meant every word. It was official – he was totally head over heels, over the top, painfully in love with you.

You gave him a quick peck before sliding down to the floor and on your knees before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling the material off his body. His physique never failed to make you drool. You traced his abs, his muscles, his tattoos, and kissed on the tattoos down his body.

You played with the buckle of his belt, raising your head to meet his eyes before unbuckling it. You smiled giddily at his reaction, he had a look of extreme pleasure on his face as he nodded for you to keep going.

As you unbuckled his belt and took off his pants, he grabbed your hair and held it up for you, just the way he saw guys do when they we’re about to get head.

The move surprised you but not as much as when you pulled down his underwear. His dick was perfect in size, not small but not painfully big, girthy but not uncomfortably large. And the best part was the fact that it curved a little to the right. Fucking perfect.

“Big,” your ditzy mind couldn’t process more so you dipped and gave his tip licks before sucking on it.

His grip on your hair tighted as he gasped lowly when you started swirling your tounge around the sensitive tip. Azriel’s throaty whines and tighter hold on your hair made your eyes roll back.

Your tongue swiped across his tip, and it was warm. The sensation was even warmer when your lips wrapped around the head. God, and it was all so fucking wet and warm. Especially when you gathered the spit in your mouth, coating his cock as you pushed him deeper down your throat.

His stomach was on fire, face burning as he locked eyes with you — your mouth stuffed with his cock, big, doey eyes slightly watering when he was only halfway in. He had never really acknowledged how big he was, how the thickness of him would stretch out your lips like that.

And when you stuck out your tongue, dragging it along the vein on the underside of his cock, he nearly lost it. What little control he was desperately hanging on to. Because you on your knees before him, looking up at im with lustfull eyes was something he only ever thought of in his wildest dreams, but even then, nothing could compare to this feeling.

The feeling of your hand pumping what couldn’t fit into your mouth, spit drooling from the corners of your lips. Azriel was hyper focused on how your eyes never left his, his cheeks were on fire, the tips of his ears in flames, as he burned with every suck, lick, and stroke you gave.

And he was going to come, right down your throat if he didn’t warn you. The need to release raged in his lower stomach, his muscles worked twice as hard to reign it in. So, he cupped your cheeks with both hands, tilting your head so that your neck craned up at him. Through gritted teeth, he managed to bite out, “y/n, m’gonna cum.”

Your eyes widened with surprise because you hadn’t been sucking him off for long, but he was completely overwhelmed. Instead of pulling off like he expected, you only went back to it. Your motions quickened, your rhythmic pace abandoned as you worked him to the back of your throat.

You were determined to make him finish on your face. The thought excited you, imagining the sensation of his cum dripping down your cheeks.

And fuck if he didn’t finish. With your pleading doe eyes and sinful mouth, he succumbed to the pleasure, letting out a gasp of your name that pitched into a whine. He shuddered as his hips bucked upwards in jerky moves.

“Hah–holy shit, so-so good,” he whined, as he finally let go, busting ln your face, painting it white.

He collapsed above you, breathless and spent before he sat up immediately, his fingers tracing panicked circles on your stained cheek. “That was... incredible, and i’m sorry about your face. I-I’ll get something to remove it” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. You couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warm sense of satisfaction wash over you.

You gave him a sultry look, your finger gliding across your face before you sucked on it. Then, with a seductive smile, you rose and settled into his lap.

“Still wanna fuck me, Azzie?” you whispered huskily, your voice dripping with desire.

The playful glint in your eyes ignited a primal desire within him, and he wasted no time in pulling you closer, his hands roaming eagerly over your body. “More than anything,” he whispered huskily, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss.

The kiss left you feeling a bit dizzy, your hands falling to your sides as you soaked in the intense sensation. Mid-kiss, he gently guided you onto your back, his lips pressed together in concentration.

He got on top of you, kissing your neck and chest, looking up at you and your expressions as he lined his cock up to your entrance, teasing and tapping your clit before pushing in with a groan.

Azriel was really fucking grateful that he had already come once, because surely with him sinking in slowly, your tight walls enveloping him in delicious heat, he would have come on the spot. Which would’ve been mortifying. Even more embarrassing than the needy moan he released when he bottomed out. It was louder than he intended, his eyes rolling back when you wiggled your hips to adjust to his size.

“Your dick feel amaaazing, m’sooo totally baking ya a cake after this,” you moaned, your eyes going crossed with pleasure as he pumped into you.

Azriel flashed you a shy smile as his brain went fuzzy with desire, body blushing from the heat coursing through his veins. His grip on your hips tightened, his movements finding a comfortable rhythm.

“So fucking tight, so good,” he whined, his forehead slumped against your shoulder as you wrapped your legs around his middle and your arms around his neck, reveling in his warmth.

Your nails scraped against his back, creating scarlet streaks as he kept rocking you into bed. Azriel felt like he was in heaven.

Azriel pumped into you, holding eye contact as he remembered everything he had learned, everything that allegedly made a woman go crazy. He brought down his thumb to circle your clit knowing it was something a lotta women liked. He just didn’t expect you to go absolutely stupid on him as he did.

You were moaning and writhing in pleasure, lost in the sensations Azriel was eliciting from you. He couldn't help but think that you looked much prettier than all those actresses with their over-the-top performances. Your pleasure felt real and genuine, and he loved seeing you like that, completely lost in the moment.

“mm-my goddd — harder, please,” you whined, nails digging into his back.

Azriel didn't dare to close his eyes, his gaze never leaving yours as he whispered about your beauty. A pressure built up in both of you, a shared desire that seemed to consume the room.

Azriel never swore. He thought it was a disgusting way for people to express themselves, and that only people who couldn’t use their words had to resort to it but he was breaking his own rule. You felt too good.

“You’re gorgeous, so fucking beautiful” he moans, hips thrusting at an unforgiving pace as you finally reached your high, moaning loudly, nails dragging across his back.

“Fuck, gon’ cum.” he panted, spilling his cum into your cunt. Azriel gave his final slow thrusts before he was pulling out of you, letting his cum seep out.

Azriel slumped next to you, eyes shut as he rolled onto his side, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. You released gentle sighs, snuggling closer to him, feeling completely at ease in his embrace.

“Did you… finish? Was it any good?” he asked as he kissed your neck tenderly

“Yeah, I came, like, really hard! You did a super good job, Azzie!! Totally the best i’ve ever had!” you said giddly as you crushed him in a hug

Azriel chuckled softly at your enthusiastic response, his lips trailing kisses along your neck. “I'm glad I could make you feel good, next time, I want to eat your pussy,” he murmured casually, returning your hug warmly.

Your eyes widened as your body warmed at his sudden and wish.

“Okay, only if i can ride,” you negotiated back with an exhausted smile.

Azriel nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before gently bringing you closer to him. He then reached for one of the nearby blankets and carefully wrapped it around you, ensuring you were snug and warm in his embrace.

You turned on the movie, snuggling close under the cozy blanket as it played softly in the background. With the comforting glow of the screen illuminating the room, you drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

—

“So? Are you just going to sit there, Az?” Cassian asked, practically on the edge of his seat

Azriel took a sip of his drink, unfazed by Rhysand's scrutinizing gaze.

“Yeah, we did it. Yes, it was good. Now stop asking,” he said, his tone casual yet firm.

Rhys leaned forward eagerly, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, come on, Az! We need more details,” he urged, his curiosity piqued.

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you fuckfaces don't. But thanks for the tips. We had a hell of a good time,” he replied, his tone carrying a playful edge as he stood up and left them with their jaw dropped.

“Did he just swear? Am I dreaming?” Cassian asked bewildered, looking over to Rhys with raised eyebrows.

“He did,” Rhys confirmed with a chuckle, raising his glass in a mock toast.

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[utterlyotterlyx]

Shine

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - Petty games don't work well with Azriel, but you never learn, do you?

Warnings - angstttt, pettiness, feral Azriel, possessiveness, lil bit of fluff, smut, oral m!receiving, p in v, dirty talk, praise kink, shadow play, unhinged Az, basically just smut tbh

Tension and anger echoed about the study, it was so stifling that even Rhys had no option but to dart his gaze between Azriel and yourself as you both stood opposite one another, chest to chest, shouting at one another due to your sheer luck and dangerous stupidity.

It wasn't like you couldn't handle yourself, but you knew you had only returned from your latest mission in tact by the skin of your teeth and sweat on your brow. Azriel had known the severity of the situation when you had muted the bond, and that made him morph into a feral beast.

Cassian had received the initial onslaught of his anger, his cheek throbbing and bruising as he sat lax in one of the armchairs with a rag full of ice pressed to his skin.

Muting the bond was something he had forbidden you to do, no matter what, and you had gone and done it.

"I couldn't risk your tugging distracting me whilst we tried to get out of there," you shot, shouting up at his towering frame that cast a shadow over you.

Even his shadows had retreated behind him, occasionally begging their master to stop shouting at you, that their pretty love was alive and well, they begged him to hold her and love her, but he was too angry to even think of it.

How could you be so foolish? Azriel had told you not to make all of the mistakes that you had, and you hadn't listened to him, not for a mere moment. It was in that moment that he loathed your cockiness and wit.

Clenching his fists, Azriel's nostrils flared, you stood toe to toe with him, an act that not many lived to talk of afterward, new-born fire burned in your eyes, "You're so reckless, y/n. As long as I have a say in it, you won't see another mission until you learn your lesson."

Stoic. Final.

Rhys sucked in a breath at your face, a usually soft thing that had contorted into blind, psychotic serenity, even the High Lord shrank into his seat whilst Azriel slowly realised the gravity of his words, "Am I bad dog, Az? Are you going to rub my nose in my piss and tell me how awful I am?"

Darkness tugged at him, forcing him back a step, but your eyes didn't falter, didn't move from his face for a singular moment. It was too late to take it back, the underlying tone that told he that he was attempting to tell you what to do, so he stood firm. "You both could have died today because of your stupidity. Rhys would be mindless if he allowed you to step foot on another mission."

There was a cut in your brow that was leaking blood, arrows tipped with faebane were shot at you during your escape, one of which had grazed your brow. Dirt brushed against your cheeks, twigs were entwined in your hair, possibly from the fall that caused your scuffed knees; you had walked into the house limping, smirking to Cassian at the near death experience, and that made his anger roar even more.

The gaze of a thousand blades cut into Rhys and he winced, lifting his eyes from the desk to you. He couldn't deny how reckless your actions had been, you could have died, you could have left Azriel without a mate, both of them without you and Cassian.

Rhys' lips curled into a tight snarl, partly due to the anger of being pulled into one of your fights which left the city trembling, "This conversation can wait," he rose from the desk, hands flat and steady on the tabletop, "We leave for Autumn in two hours," he looked to you, "You should go and make yourself look more presentable. But as for you going on another mission, I do believe that you should take a step back for awhile, until you can understand how your actions impact the lives of your comrades."

You went to bark a reply, your shoulders rising and falling in rapid succession. Rhys simply held his hand up and you growled at the action, the predator inside of you not liking being silenced one bit before you turned on your heels and flung the door open so hard that one of the hinges ripped from the wall, not before glaring at Azriel like death was imminent on him however.

"Thank you for that, Az," Rhys sighed and fell back into his seat, making a mental note to get the door fixed and reinforced.

You were by far the most fierce member of the Inner Circle, war was your middle name, you relished in your brutality, and it had astounded them all time and time again just how vicious you could be. One winter solstice, many many years ago, Amren went as far as to gift you with a pair of ornate talons like they were pieces of jewellery, the bloodthirsty animal inside of you grinned at them, and you hadn't gone into any battle without them since.

Azriel was the only person who wasn't scared of you, so it made sense that you had discovered that you were mate. It had taken you a long while to accept the bond, you knew that you were a difficult thing to handle, but he seemed up to the challenge, and he slowly broke down every defence you had thrown up around your heart.

Throwing his head back and running his hand over his face, Azriel cocked his head toward Cassian who sat there wearing a shit-eating grin that he wished to wipe from the face of the earth, "You'll be paying for that later."

It wasn't exactly a lie. Each time Azriel stepped one toe over the line you had drawn, that being attempting to control you or hinder your movements, you would react in the pettiest of ways. Sometimes you would wear the skimpiest thing in your closet and walk about the River House in it to tease him, swimming in the dark eyes of Cassian or sultry words of Mor, and you'd continue to wear it until he would forcefully drag you into your shared rooms and fall to his knees before you, begging for a taste. Other times, you'd go as far as to paint the town red with Nesta and Mor, and he would find you grinding against another male in Rita's, drunk off your ass, and the male would freeze and simper away once he realised whose eyes had stalked him from across the room.

Every attempt to rile up your mate had worked, you had always pulled an apology from his lips the moment he was done fucking you senseless. Azriel hated your little games, he made it clear often, but he always played them.

From the fury in your eyes, Azriel knew that you'd be taking your pettiness to a whole new level that evening.

Using the excuse of your cut up brow, you had managed to buy yourself an extra hour of alone time whilst the rest of your family departed for the Autumn Court.

It was Eris' birthday, and the new High Lord had invited you all as a notion to strengthen the newfound alliance between the courts, and of course, Rhys had agreed. Pity for Azriel that Eris had always had a wandering eye for you, and you were certainly going to use that fact to your advantage.

Gold clung to you like a second skin, a tight and sheer strapless corset pulled against your chest, adorned in a design of vines and dainty flowers, the skirt was long and trailed behind your steps and it was just sultry enough that it exposed both of your legs, right up to the thigh, and one wrong move would expose your cunt for all to see, the only saving grace being the golden fabric that just brushed below it.

Nesta had chuckled low at the look in your eye as she had styled your hair into loose curls. No accessories were needed, the dress was a statement on its own. You had been saving it for yours and Azriel's anniversary which was three days away, but such vicious actions had led you to remove the custom made garment from its casing and wear it for the High Lord of Autumn instead.

Adjusting the straps of you golden heels, you floated through the house like a summer wind and winnowed right onto the front lawn of the Forest House, a feline smirk on your lips as you felt the bond sing at your presence. Music and laughter poured from the open windows and doors, fire lanterns illuminated the path, and the guards at the doors didn't even ask for your name as they opened them with their mouths slightly agape.

Eris was sat upon the dais, looking rather bored, and then his eyes found you and he sat upright in his seat. The act made the room turn to you, to the dress glowing in the candlelight, to your exposed skin poking from the sheer material that stuck to you.

Murmurs from the crowd were dim against the music playing from the band in the corner, and you felt all eyes on you, even the ones that were seething. Once you had sauntered to the foot of the dais, you flickered your gaze up through your long lashes and curtseyed, low, low enough for Eris to catch a glimpse at the delicious cleavage at the heart of the bodice.

From the corner of your eye you saw Cassian's mouth move, to which Azriel's head snapped in his direction in warning before it moved back to you. A smirk befell your lips and you rose, "I apologise for the lateness, My Lord," your words were seductive and you skin glittered in the light due to the shimmering oil you had placed on your hands and arms, on the calves that Azriel loved to trail kisses upward.

"Perfection takes time," Eris drawled, his whisky amber eyes fixated on you, you were by far the most radiant thing he had ever seen, and the most vicious, it made his senses sing, "I appreciate the time you spent readying yourself for me."

With a smirk, you walked from the foot of the dais, in the opposite direction of your family, and toward a table adorned with various flutes of sparkling wine, plucking one from the surface and drinking the sweet liquid as the room resumed its previous activities.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Feigning innocence, you peered up at him, doing your best not to grin at the redness of his face. Azriel looked oh so handsome, dressed in all black, the top two buttons of his silk shirt undone to give you a glimpse of his tattoos, "I'm drinking my sparkling wine."

"Y/N." Azriel's voice was low and demanding, it made your hairs stand on end and a sinful shudder crawl down your spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Sorry, Azzie," you suck out your bottom lip and turned around, facing the crowd who were stealing the odd glance in your direction.

Azriel moved behind you, his breath hot on the curve where your neck and shoulder connected, "I've never seen this dress," his fingers brushed against the chain-like material.

The look on his face was not one you wanted to miss when the words fell from your mouth, so you craned your head, turning your beautiful face over your shoulder, "I had it made for our anniversary," his eyes darkened, "Thought why it should be wasted in Velaris when it would be so appreciated here."

Light glittered over your face, making the shimmering powder on your cheekbones glow.

Azriel's nostrils flared and his fingers gripped your hip, no doubt leaving bruises swelling on your skin, "Our anniversary."

An innocent hum vibrated against your lips, "Yes. Seventy-four years this week. We were going to make it special. Shame."

Then you turned away from him as a familiar presence entered your consciousness. Eris stood before you, eyes low and darkened with desire, a sight that Azriel lowly growled at, "May I?" Eris offered his hand as the floor reset, and you didn't hesitate to take it, ripping yourself from Azriel's grasp and allowing Eris to lead you onto the dancefloor.

No one else dared to join you.

Surely, where fire met fury, people would burn.

Eris' hand stayed locked in yours whilst his other rested low on your hip, barely grazing the bare skin at your thigh, his lips brushed the shell of your ear as the music started, "Don't let anyone take away your shine."

The High Lord whisked you into a waltz, his steps perfectly matching and harmonising with your own, looking deep into your eyes the whole time. You had to admit it, Eris was beautiful, not as beautiful as Azriel, but still. For a moment, your forgot about the world as you waltzed in his arms, his fire colliding with the flame burning within you, and the entire room held a breath and could only watch the magnificence of it whilst wishing it was them.

The music slowed as did your steps, and one more twirl later, Eris bowed to you, your hand still in his, and kissed the marriage band on your ring finger, smirking against it slowly before rising and taking another step toward you, "I like your games, y/n," your heart began to race, "Do let me know if you'd like your fantasies fulfilled," his finger twirled your hair around it and he hummed in approval.

Then, Eris moved, taking your arm and leading you back to where he had taken you from, which was away from Azriel as he stood between Feyre and Rhys on the other side of the room, eyes wide and shadows dancing.

It should have been menacing, the look on his face, the crooked, unhinged grin and dark eyes that peered at you. All it did was make your cunt burn with need.

Perhaps you had pushed him too far.

For another hour, Azriel stalked you from the opposite side of the room, he was the predator toying with its prey, and he fucking knew it. The constant intensity of his gaze filled you with excitement and dread, until it had gotten too much altogether.

The halls of the Forest House held a chill, and your heels against the floor echoed about the vast halls and tunnels. You weren't sure how far you had walked, up a few staircases and down so many hallways that you were sure you had gotten lost.

That intensity still lingered.

Exhaling shakily, you stopped your walking and you spoke, "I know you're here," you turned on your heels as another pair of steps prowled down the candlelit hallway.

There he was, hair messy from raking his hands through it too much, eyes zoning in on you, his shadows poking up from his shoulders at the feeling of having you so close.

"As observant as ever," he purred, taking another step, and then another, "Did you really think you could wear that, a beautiful gift for our anniversary, to remember all the time that we have spent loving and fucking one another, for another male. Our enemy. And think you'd get away with it?" Another step, and your breath became caught in your throat, another step, and he was on you, his breath fanning over your face.

Backing into the wall, your heart lurched at the lethal speckles in his eyes, "Perhaps you should stop trying to take away my shine," you tried to speak as calmly as possible, but he saw right through it, and Azriel grinned.

Raising his hands, he caged you between them, then one of them moved to graze against your cheek, then the line of your collarbone, then down your arm and hip, until they lingered where your dress and thigh met, "Shine all you want, my mate, I won't stop you," his fingers dipped under the hem of the skirt, caressing your thigh, "But what I will not tolerate, is you wearing a thing meant for solely my eyes alone before others, and bathe in the sinful thoughts of them."

He was beyond pissed. It was hard to see anything but the Spymaster of the Night Court in those eyes.

Gulping hard, you had no choice but to shrink a little, like a bunny caught in the jaws of a wolf, from the lethal promise in his eyes, "I wanted, for once, to do what I wanted to do."

Azriel tilted his head and leaned down, a feathers touch away from your lips, "And what do you want now?" His voice was rough and low, a hush above a whisper, his fingers continued to rub soft circles into the skin beneath that golden hem.

"I want..." you looked into his eyes, into the eyes that engulfed every piece of you, "I want..." your back slid down the wall an inch or so just to put some space between you.

"I need your words, Angel," he cooed as his other hand moved from the wall to run down the side of your face and neck.

"I want you," the submissive tone in your voice made him melt, he grasped your wrist and pulled you down the hall, wind sifting through your hair at the speed of his steps, until he opened a door and pushed you inside.

The room was humming with the last of a simmering fire, the last licks of flame flickering across the room. Hands roamed your waist before he murmured, "I think I'd like you to keep it on."

Spice and cinnamon faintly clung to the air, mulled wide and ash. Then it dawned you, you were in Eris' room, you were about to be used in Eris' own bed. A sickly tempting realisation.

Azriel rounded your figure and smirked, he was enjoying toying with you, if you wanted to play, then he'd play.

The Shadowsinger moved across the room, sitting on a chair you knew Eris would have spent his nights reading in, and sat down, legs spread and slouched into the cushion. Tapping his foot against the wood in waiting, you stood there, you weren't sure for what, but your chest panted.

"Well? Come to me, Angel," he purred, smirking at you, you moved to take a single step but he tutted, "On your knees."

Fire spread through your entire body and you sank to the ground, dancing your palms along the wood as he watched on with that predatory glare, "You look so good crawling for me," his praise made your core pulse, and you knew that you were already glistening for him.

Kneeling before him, in the middle of his open legs, you felt the world shift, and you knew he was about to devour you. Azriel motioned to the best of his trousers and commanded, "Take them off," your fingers reached for the belt, unbuckling the clasp before untethering the buttons to his satin briefs and pulling them down to see his cock already hard and throbbing for you, your fingers delicately curled around him and he groaned at your touch, "With your mouth, Angel."

Azriel shifted his position, unbuttoning his shirt to expose his chest, to make himself more accessible for you.

Taking him between your lips, you swirled your tongue around the head, flickering the tip of you tongue over him. Deeper he went, and you hallowed your cheeks as you bobbed your head, Azriel's head was thrown back, his hand curled in your hair as he guided your movements, "You're so perfect, aren't you? Look at how pretty you look," a soft whine moved through you and you rubbed your thighs together, begging to relieve some of that pressure building between your legs.

Azriel continued to guide your head, meeting every movement to the lazy thrusts of his lips, both of his hands were in your hair now, he moaned, a breathless sonnet that made you moan, making your lips vibrate around his cock.

Within a moment, Azriel had removed himself from your mouth and scooped you up from the floor, not breaking his stare as your thighs pressed around his waist and he moved to the bed, "Do you know whose room this is?" Azriel grinned against you neck, he moved back, his face hovering before your own as his fingers moved between your folds, you jolted at the contact, "It's Eris'."

So he did know.

Azriel pressed his lips to yours and you gasped, his finger entering you, and he took the opportunity to nip your bottom lip between his teeth, "He thinks he can touch you like that, think of you like this?"

He was going to fuck your scents into the foundations of the castle, so that Eris would never to able to escape it, escape the untouchable state of your mating bond.

His lips were on you again, and he shifted his position, resting between your legs as his fingers continued to draw soft moans from your lips. Azriel pulled away, taking his time in removing the satin shirt from his body, unlacing the cuffs and drawing the garment over his shoulders, his wings flexed behind him the entire time to make you remember who exactly your mate was.

Azriel positioned himself and pushed into you, capturing your lips on his to silence your soft groan whilst he stretched you, until he was fully hilted inside of you. Then he began moving, rolling his hips back and forth, mumbling against your lips, "You're mine. All mine."

The skin on your neck was clouded in marks from his mouth, sucking and biting every part of you he could see as he rocked into you, slow and deep, trying to stay in control.

Whimpering beneath him, you took his face in your hands and looked into his eyes; his hair fell over your face and you brushed it away, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb, "Let go."

It was all he needed.

Azriel pulled out of you, flipping you onto your front, and positioning you so that your back was arching in a perfect crescent moon, he wasted no time in pushing into you again, smirking against the walls that were already quivering around him.

This time, he wasn't gentle.

Your mate fucked you relentlessly, you were blubbering beneath him, feeling your walls spasm as he hit that perfect spot inside of you, moaning so loud that you were surprised no one had come in to investigate who exactly was getting fucked in the High Lords bedroom.

"Az, please, I'm going to-"

A familiar flutter passed over your clit, coiling around it and you clawed yourself right through Eris' feather pillows at the touch. The others flowed through your hair and down your sides, licking and caressing your skin.

Crying out, that white light blinded your senses as you came all over Azriel's cock that was slamming into you whilst his shadows took you to a whole other world entirely.

"That's my girl," his fingers trailed down the curve of you spine, furling in your hair and pulling you up so that your spine met his chest, burying his head into the nape of your neck, "Such a pretty dress, hm?"

Azriel didn't slow down, thrusting up into you, his fist curled in your hair and tugging on it to give him access to your neck and earlobes, "Mother above," you muttered through breaths, clutching onto the arm he had wrapped around your waist.

Smirking against your skin, Azriel coaxed another orgasm from your body, commanding his best shadows to stay focused on that bundle of nerves that craved attention, "Eris won't ever be able to escape this, us."

"Azriel," the possessive primal instinct had consumed him, the need to mark what was his, right in the heart of his enemies den, "Please."

"Tell me what you want, Angel."

"I want you. Please."

"How could I deny you when you're being so good?"

This time, Azriel fingers moved over your clit, sending electric white heat through your body, raw and euphoric, and he slammed into you, moving with unwavering pace until you quivered around him tighter than you ever had before and he felt himself slip.

His movements had you begging as he fucked himself deeper inside of you, through his high that had him moaning your name. Then his movements slowed to a stop, and you stayed sat on his still throbbing cock, "I hope that Eris enjoys your message."

Chuckling, he pressed his lips to your neck, allowing his hands to float down the bodice of the dress that had got you to where you were, nestled on your mates cock in the room of his enemy, "I'm sure he will," his fingers drifted to your stomach, halting there with a smile, "We may have done it."

Looking down, your hands moved to the same position, slithering beneath his, "Do you think so?"

Azriel hummed against your skin, "I do," It was no secret that you and Azriel had been trying for a child for years, you knew it wasn't ever going to be instant, but you had hoped for at least two perfect glimmers of your love for one another in the entire seventy-four years you had spent together.

"I hope so."

"Me too, Angel. Me too."

Smirking, you pulled away and turned to face your beautiful mate who was still kneeling atop the bedspread, "Are we going to talk about that little scene in the hallway, and on that chair?"

Azriel mirrored your smirk, "What can I say?" he moved to you, connecting his lips to yours, his other half, his everything, Azriel looked to your swollen full lips, to your hair, to your eyes that were glowing in the dying light, he shrugged, "It's the dress."

Author's Note

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#acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #rhysand #cassian #eris imagine #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fluff #azriel fic #azriel smut #acotar azriel #acotar smut #acotar fanfic #acotar x reader

[quinzzelx]

Paramour

Azriel x Fem! Rhys Sister! Reader

Summary: Porn Without Plot. Azriel fucks you against a wall just outside the Ballroom in Hewn City. You're Rhys Sister and you guys have a secret relationship.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: SMUT, Degradation, Azriel is very talk-active????, 18+

A/N: Uhmmm. I hope you enjoy this??? I certainly did enjoy writing this. Will proofread this when I get the time, but I promise you guys- There will be some fluff coming soon, I just have so many filthy thoughts concerning Azriel atm.

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"You want me to fuck your pretty little cunt, princess?" His breath fans across the back of your neck, hot and leaving a moist hue on your skin. One, two, three heavy pants leave you, front pressed against the wall. A sly smirk tugs at his beautiful lips as he presses his hardened cock into the small of your back. Feeling him strain against his pants, subconsciously, you press your ass back into him, gasping as his hand wanders up to your cleavage, scarred fingers tracing over your collarbone.

"I know how you play those little games." Rough and gravelly, each word comes out in hushed tones, rasped into the shell of your ear, followed by a soft nip. "Grinding against that blond Fae male and meeting my gaze, looking for a reaction." Amusement laces his strained voice as his hand roughly dips under the fabric of your dress, grabbing your breast harshly. You groan slightly as you squirm, caged between the wall and his toned body.

"Does your brother know that his precious little sister is a filthy whore?" He grunts out, trailing kisses down the side of your neck, kneading your breast with one hand dipped into the front of your dress and squeezing your hip with the other as he continues his verbal onslaught. "That your perfect cunt takes my cock so well? Pretty pussy begging for attention?" Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear someone entering the hallway just around the corner, people passing back and forth from the ballroom to the sitting area.

Trembling slightly, you try to find your voice, only to be cut off by a harsh bite at the junction of your neck and shoulder. "How his sweet sister sat at family dinner with my cum dripping from her fucked-out cunt?"

Azriel's voice dropped to a husky whisper, laden with a dark, provocative edge as he tightened his grip on you, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. "What would he say if I fucked you right here, for everyone to see if they only took the right turn?" His words sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through you, heightening your senses to the dangerous game you both played.

With a deliberate slowness, he shifted, aligning his body even closer to yours, ensuring you felt every contour of his powerful form. His fingers trailed dangerously lower, teasing the edge of your dress, suggesting the promise of more. "Would you like that?" he murmured, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "To be claimed so openly?"

You found your voice, a mix of desire and defiance. "Maybe I would," you breathed out, meeting his challenge with a daring lift of your chin. "Would you risk it, Azriel? Here, where anyone might see?"

Azriel's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with a mixture of devilish intent and raw desire. "Perhaps I would," he said, his hand gripping firmer on your hip. "Just to show them who you belong to."

The dangerous edge in his voice was no longer just a tease. It was a clear, possessive declaration, one that made your heart race and your body respond with an urgent, aching need.

His hand moved from your hip, sliding down with deliberate slowness until his fingers brushed against the hem of your dress. With a boldness that left you breathless, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric, his fingers finding the heated, pulsing core of your desire.

Azriel groaned as he felt the wetness that had soaked through the thin fabric of your underwear, his breath hitching at the intensity of your arousal. "So wet for me," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent another wave of shivers through you. His fingers teased the edge of your panties, tracing the soaked fabric as if savoring the barrier that was all too easy for him to remove.

The sensation of his fingers so close to your most sensitive area, coupled with the danger of being discovered, heightened every sensation. Each brush of his fingers sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your body, each touch a promise of what he could do to you if only he decided to push the boundary a little further.

"You're drenched," he whispered, his tone both amazed and aroused. "Is this all for me?" His question was rhetorical, laced with ego and the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he did to you. He pressed his fingers more firmly against you, applying just enough pressure to elicit a soft moan from your lips.

"Such a perfect picture of purity, aren't you?" he taunted, his breath hot against your skin. "The Night Court’s pristine princess, but look at you now—my filthy whore, desperate for an Illyrian bastard’s touch."

He laughed softly, the sound dark and seductive. "Does it excite you, being like this? Hidden in plain sight, yet so utterly debauched beneath your royal facade?" His fingers slipped slightly, teasing you with the promise of more, pushing you further into the haze of need.

"You crave this, don’t you?" Azriel continued, his voice a sinful promise as he began to trace delicate patterns over your dampened underwear. "To be claimed, to be owned. Not by a prince, but by a warrior with dirt under his nails and lust burning in his eyes."

He pressed closer, his erection hard against your lower back, his other hand snaking around to pull you tighter against him. "Imagine what they would say, the courtly lords and ladies, if they saw their darling princess now—legs spread for the Spymaster, begging for it. Would they still bow so low? Or would they whisper about how deeply the darkness has seduced their golden girl?"

His words were a delicious poison, feeding the darkest parts of your desires. You arched against him, your body betraying your inner turmoil with its blatant neediness. "Please," you found yourself whispering, no longer caring about the risk, the title, or the crown. All that mattered in the heated press of darkness was his touch, his control, and the overwhelming need to be his. "Just you. Only you, Azriel."

Azriel's hand moved deftly, sliding your underwear aside as he dragged one of his long, scarred fingers through your wetness. "Let me tell you what will happen now," he started, his voice low and commanding as he paused to push a finger inside you, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion. "I will fuck this little cunt and fill it up until you're dripping with my cum."

With each word, he began to bunch the fabric of your dress around your hips, exposing you further to his dark intentions. "And then," he continued, his voice rough with pure lust as he added another finger, stretching you deliciously, "you will walk right back out there, covered in my scent, my cum coating your perfect thighs."

You moaned, the sound muffled against the wall, as his fingers moved inside you with expert precision, hitting all the right spots. "Everyone will know," he growled, his breath hot against your ear, "that you are mine, that you've been claimed by an Illyrian warrior."

The thrill of his words, the risk of being caught, the rawness of his touch—it all mingled into a potent mix that threatened to undo you completely. You pushed back against him, desperate for more, your hands scrambling against the cold wall for purchase.

Azriel chuckled darkly, pleased by your eagerness. He withdrew his fingers only to replace them with the tip of his hardness, teasing the entrance of your slick warmth. "Ready, princess?" he taunted, giving you a moment to nod before he pushed into you, filling you completely in one smooth, firm thrust.

His hips set a brutal pace from the start, thrusting into you relentlessly. Each sharp, rough push forced the breath from your lungs, giving you no time to adjust to the fullness and intensity of his movements. You bit down on your lip, trying hard to suppress your whimpers and moans as he took you from behind. His hand, which had been resting gently on your chest, now moved with purpose. In a swift, rough motion, he ripped down the fabric of your dress, freeing your breasts so they spilled out, bouncing with each of his powerful thrusts.

"You filthy slut," he grunted out, each word punctuated by a hard thrust that sent waves of both pleasure and shock through your body. "Filled and fucked like a cheap whore, just next-doors to where your brother is probably already looking for you." His voice was gritty, spoken through clenched teeth as he continued his relentless pace.

The harshness of his words, meant to demean, strangely did the opposite, fueling the heat that spiraled in your core. His dominant display, the rough handling, and the danger of being discovered merged into a heady cocktail of arousal that made your knees weak and your resolve falter.

His free hand gripped your hip with bruising intensity, anchoring you firmly to him as he drove into you with unrestrained force. You could feel every ridge and vein of him as he moved, the drag of his cock stirring you from within, pulling you closer to the edge with every stroke.

The thought of anyone discovering you in such a compromising position, under the control of Azriel’s dominating presence, added an element of thrill that you couldn’t deny. Your body responded eagerly to the blend of pain and pleasure, to the raw, primal aggression in his touch.

"Look at you," Azriel hissed, leaning forward to murmur in your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, his words a smoky whisper. "So desperate for my cock, aren’t you? So eager to be used, even here, where anyone might find you." He slowed momentarily, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate, teasing out the length of pleasure, drawing out your need until it was a tangible thing between you.

As you bit down on your lip, attempting to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your lips, Azriel noticed. With a snarl, he shook his head, his expression one of determined mischief. "No, if we're doing this, we're doing it right," he started, his voice commanding. "If you already spread your legs for me in public, at least own up to it and let everyone hear how good my cock feels."

His words were a challenge, throwing down the gauntlet in this game of daring desire. With that, his movements shifted, becoming less about control and more about driving both of you to the brink. His thrusts picked up pace again, now with a new purpose, to make you vocalize the pleasure that he was so adept at drawing from your core.  Azriel was intent on reshaping you, on breaking down every barrier you had with each potent thrust. His relentless pace escalated as a low scream tore from your lips—a sound that seemed to shatter the last of his self-control. His movements became even more fervent, nearly savage, as he sought to claim every part of you.

Around you, shadows danced and twirled—a dark spectacle orchestrated by his will. The cool, black tendrils of his power wrapped around your body like a silken caress, contrasting with the fervor of his physical dominance. Your whines and gasps reverberated off the cold stone walls, filling the space with the intimate soundtrack of your surrender.

"Come on, Princess. Put on your best performance for our audience," Azriel coaxed with a wicked edge to his voice, each word punctuated by a deep thrust that threatened to undo you completely.  You could barely register anything beyond the all-consuming sensations he evoked within you. His name became a mantra on your lips, each utterance more desperate than the last as you neared the climax he was so skillfully drawing out of you.

Finally, as another sharp thrust sent you spiraling over the edge, you couldn't hold back any longer. A high, keening cry escaped you, announcing your climax to the shadow-filled room. Azriel followed closely behind, his own release overtaking him with a raw intensity that matched the wildness of his shadows. His hand swiftly found its way to rub circles on your swollen clit, guiding you through your orgasm. He groaned deeply, his body pressing tightly against yours as he marked you indelibly as his own, hot seed filling you up to the brim.

As the waves of pleasure slowly ebbed, Azriel's grip softened, and his breaths whispered hot against your ear. "Perfect, just perfect," he murmured, almost tenderly, as the shadows receded like the tide, leaving behind the undeniable truth of your shared pleasure. Gently, he pulled his softening cock from you, and immediately you felt the warm rush of his cum starting to drip from your body. You panted heavily, your flushed cheeks still pressed against the cold stone wall, the surface chilling your heated skin as you struggled to regain your composure.

After a moment, you began to adjust your clothing, your hands drifting towards your underwear, attempting to restore some semblance of order and decency. But Azriel's hand stopped you, his touch firm and unyielding. "No," he said decisively, his voice commanding as he reached with his other hand to rip away your soaked, lacy thong. The fabric gave way easily under his strong grasp, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

A furious blush spread across your cheeks at his words, and you gasped in a mix of shock and residual arousal. "Whores don't deserve to wear underwear," he declared with a harsh intensity. His words were a stark reminder of the role you had willingly played, of the depths of your submission to him. "I want my cum to drip out of you while you play the perfect princess again."

The boldness of his demand, the raw possession in his tone—it was overwhelming and wildly provocative. It stirred a complex cocktail of emotions within you; humiliation battled with arousal, the scandalous nature of his requirement igniting a thrill that coursed through your already sensitive body.

Azriel noticed your flush and the sudden demure tilt of your head, contrasting sharply with the fervor of moments ago. "Now acting all coy, are we?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement. He took a step back, adjusting himself and zipping his pants back up with a deliberate slowness that drew your gaze. You turned to face him fully as he stood back to muse over your disheveled appearance.

His eyes scanned you from head to toe, taking in every detail: hair slightly tousled, dress crumpled and bearing the marks of your recent encounter, lipstick smudged, and faint black streaks underlining your eyes where tears had mingled with your makeup. The sight seemed to please him greatly, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the tangible signs of your surrender.

Watching intently, you saw him casually pocket your drenched panties, an act that sealed his earlier claim on you. His gaze remained intense, holding yours with an unspoken challenge, as if daring you to object, yet promising much more. "You wear it well," he commented dryly, his voice a husky murmur that resonated with the same commanding energy that had undone you minutes before. The smirk broadened slightly as he stepped closer once again, his presence enveloping you in a way that was both protective and possessive.

"You should see yourself," he continued, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair back into place, his touch surprisingly tender given the harshness of his previous actions. "Every inch the ravaged princess, yet still so regal."

The contrast of his words with his caring gesture added another layer to the complex dynamic between you, deepening the confusing blend of respect and domination. "Let’s make sure everyone sees how stunning you look tonight," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. This close, his scent—a mix of the night-chilled air and his own intoxicating aroma—filled your senses, reminding you of the intensity of your shared moment. "Let them wonder what has put that flush in your cheeks and that glint in your eye." Azriel's guiding hand at your back was a silent but omnipotent presence as he escorted you back to the ballroom. The lively crowd of Hewn City buzzed around you, engrossed in their revelry—dancing, dining, and drinking, utterly oblivious to the transformation you had just undergone within the secluded alcove.

As you re-entered, your brother and his wife, your high lady, were the epitome of the Night Court’s grace and power, seamlessly painting the perfect picture of leadership and serenity. They sat upon their thrones, regal and poised, while the courtiers around them reveled in the festive atmosphere.

Azriel, with the stealth that had always been second nature to him, slipped away just as swiftly as he had followed you earlier, resuming his place at the bottom of the dais to Cassian’s right. The crowd was none the wiser, their attention caught up in the swirl of music and laughter that filled the grand hall.

Your brother caught your eye and smiled fondly at you from his elevated position. His gaze was full of brotherly love and pride, unaware of the debauched state his sister had just been reduced to. Feeling a flush rise to your cheeks, you quickly averted your gaze, the sensation of Azriel's cum slowly trickling down your thigh a stark reminder of the wicked game you both played. How you were sneaking around behind your family's back. The throbbing warmth between your legs kept the memory vividly alive, even as you composed yourself to greet the other attendees.

As if on cue, a male courtier approached, requesting a dance. His timing was impeccable, offering you a distraction just when you needed it most. You accepted with a gracious smile, stepping into the rhythm of the dance, your movements slightly hesitant as you adjusted to the lingering sensitivity of your body.

Across the room, Azriel watched you. Even from a distance, his intense gaze was palpable, a darkly amused smirk playing upon his lips as he observed you navigate the dance floor on wobbly legs. His eyes sparkled with a possessive gleam, thoroughly pleased with himself for the secret chaos he had instilled in you. In his view, you were the undisputed center of attention, a princess captivating her audience, yet none of the admirers swirling around you could possibly know the delicious truth—that it was his mark you bore, his ownership you were under, even as you floated elegantly from dance to dance.

Cassian, ever observant, spared Azriel a sidelong glance, his eyebrow arching in silent inquiry as he noticed the particularly satisfied smirk on Azriel's lips. The shadowsinger's eyes remained fixed on you, tracing your movements across the dance floor with undisguised pride and possessiveness.

From his vantage point, Azriel reveled in the visual feast before him—your figure, so elegant and poised, yet only he knew of the wild disarray just beneath the surface. His thoughts wandered dangerously, replaying the feel of you clutching at him, the sounds you made, so beautifully uninhibited in response to his touch. The memory of how perfectly you responded to his desires, how eagerly you succumbed to the pleasure he offered, sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

Caught in his reverie, Azriel almost didn't notice Cassian leaning toward him, his voice low and teasing. "Where did you vanish off to, brother? Missed seeing you out here with the rest of us."

With a knowing look that didn’t quite reach his eyes, Azriel turned to Cassian, his response laced with double meaning. "Just ensuring that every part of tonight's celebration was being thoroughly enjoyed," he said smoothly, his gaze flickering back to you as you laughed at something your dance partner said.

Cassian, picking up on the slight shift in Azriel’s tone, chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly as if deciding whether he really wanted to know the details. "Well, from the looks of it, you seemed to have found quite the... entertaining way to pass the time."

Azriel’s only response was a slight, enigmatic smile, one that spoke volumes to Cassian, who knew better than to press further. He gave Azriel a light clap on the shoulder, a gesture of acknowledgment mixed with a hint of mock warning. "Just remember, we’re here to keep up appearances," he said, his voice light but firm.

"Of course," Azriel replied, his eyes still tracking every movement you made. "Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise." As Cassian turned his attention back to the gathering, Azriel allowed himself one more long look at you. The sight of you, so radiant and seemingly untouchable yet secretly marked by their clandestine fervor, was his to cherish. In his mind, he plotted the next encounter, each plan more daring than the last, each thought streaked with the hunger to once again dissolve the poised facade you both wore so well in public.

In the quiet corners of his mind, Azriel was already crafting plans for later, each thought more provocative than the last. He envisioned you spread out on his bed, the soft glow of candlelight casting shadows over your form. His pulse quickened at the thought of tasting his own essence mingled with your sweetness, as he devoured what was left of his claim from your heat. This anticipation, a silent vow of the pleasures yet to come, fueled his patience through the night’s remaining formalities. You were his and he was yours. He found comfort in those nights where you'd lie tangled in each other, whispering sweet nothings to each other—Making love. He truly loved and cherished you. He loved you so much that it hurt to be away from you. But tonight was not one of those nights, tonight he would fuck you like he didn't.

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WELLLLL, I have the hots for him. Feedback is always appreciated! Also, feel free to slide into my DMs to request things or just talk. Fuel my steamy ideas! Also, fluffy ones are welcome. Basically anything, I'd love to talk with you guys.

#smut #x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #reader insert #azriel #imagine #azriel smut #rhysand #rhys acotar #acotar series #acotar fanfiction

[surielstea]

Free of Duty

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel spend their first night away from their kids in The Cabin.

Warnings: SMUT | Minors DNI | 18+ only | p in v | oral (f-receiving) | dirty talk | slight degradation | slight praise | rough sex | controlled orgasm | breeding kink | shadow play |

5.8k words

"Where are we going mama?" Melaina asks, holding my dress in her fist as she peers up at me. I was preoccupied with doing my hair though there was little I could do to salvage it so inevitably I gave up, wearing it in my usual style.

"We're going to auntie Feyre's." I squat down and pick the two year old up, propping her on my hip as I put on a shimmering lip gloss.

"Will uncle Cass be there!" She asks enthusiastically, her wings ruffling in excitement. "Probably not Laina, but Nyx will be there to play with you and your brother." I offer her a warm smile. Her disappointment of the news about Cassian quickly diminishes when I mention her favorite cousin. "Uncle Rhys will be there then?" Her dark brows shoot up and I nod with a loving look. "Mhm." I reply. "You guys will have a playdate while your dad and I go on our own date." I boop her nose and she rears back with a giggle. "I wanna go with you and dad too." She swings her legs from side to side, watching as I cleaned up my vanity with my freehand, her much smaller one helping me put my lipgloss back in its pouch.

"I’d love that but I'm sure Nyx has something planned for you and Kiran." I say, leaving the bathroom and tapping off the mage lights. "Auntie Feyre even said she went to the market and bought everything to make cookies." I inform and her hazel eyes widen. I have to blink to make sure it wasn't Azriel's eyes looking at me, she truly is the carbon copy of my mate. But her attitude couldn't have been more evidently me. Vice versa for Kiran, if there was a boy version of me it'd be my son. Az was convinced both kids looked exactly like me but I couldn't pick out one feature our daughter inherited from me aside from the natural femininity every girl possessed.

"Az, honey are you ready?" I call to the male, walking out of the hall with Melaina in my arms. I spot him kneeled on the floor, tying Kiran's shoes who was preoccupied playing with one of the spymaster’s shadows. I set Laina down and she rushes up to her Father, tackling his back with her expert climbing skills. The shadows leave Kiran and speed toward me, rushing around my dress and making the silk skirt twirl. "You look like a princess mama!" Kiran gasps and a bright smile curves my features.

"And dad's your knight and shining armor." He smiled brightly. I walk towards the boy, mirroring his grin. "I think your father has been telling you too many bedtime stories." I ruffle his hair and he snickers. I look to my mate as he reaches back and gets ahold of our daughter, she cackles brightly as he flips her around and tosses her onto the couch.

"She's going to get hurt." I warn the shadow singer. "Again! Again!" Laina jumps on the couch as she practically demands her father to throw her into the roof. I release a soft sigh. "We have to go Laina, but when we come back I’ll make sure to toss you all you want." He tickles her sides and she squeals, squirming away from him and to the other side of me, both the kids now leaning against my legs, my hands coming to their heads and combing my fingers through their pitch black hair.

Azriel looks at me, his eyes widening the slightest fraction. The shadow that always remains by his side leaves him, only to weave through my hair. "Ready?" I tilt my head at him. He blinks, as if he's at a loss for words. His eyes flick from mine to our two children's, then back up to mine. I'd never seen hazel hold more devotion until now, eyes shining with something that made my heart ache.

"Azriel?" I prompt with a gentle tone. He seems to break free of his stupor, taking two long legged strides forward before cupping my cheeks and pulling me in for a soft kiss. Both the children groan and stuff their faces into my skirt, muttering something about cooties. I smile against his lips but he doesn't seem to want to back away any time soon, his hand slipping into my hair and holding me onto his lips until I have to physically press a hand to his chest and push him away. He hums in satisfaction, resting his forehead against mine. "How is it that I got so lucky?" He wonders rhetorically. "We're going to be late." I ignore his comment that makes me flush pink.

"Mama c'mon!" Laina pulls at my hand and I lean down, picking her up yet again. Azriel does the same with Kiran. "Close your eyes okay Laina?" I bring my hand up to her cheek and she nods, squinting them shut before clinging onto me tightly. "Ready." I say to the male beside me, intertwining our fingers with my free hand.

Azriel wasted no time in shadow-walking the four of us, entering the dark realm briefly. Laina shivered at the cold, squeezing around me tighter. "You're okay." I whisper, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. I look over to Kiran only to find him marveling at the dark realm, utterly fascinated at the way the black swirled around us.

My mate was as quick as he could be in pulling us back into the light for Melaina's sake. She's never liked the dark, always been afraid of it. Kiran however might as well have been labeled a vampire, as a baby he'd cry and wail if even a sliver of light seeped into his bedroom in the morning. I knew it pained Azriel to see our daughter so afraid of his own power, but some part of me believed  he enjoyed showing Laina that there was nothing to be afraid of, that the dark can be your friend when there's nothing else, that he'll always be there when there's nothing else.

"Okay, all done." I let go of Azriel's hand in order to lift Laina from my shoulder. "Do you wanna ring the doorbell?" I offer and the light in her eyes returns. She nods with fervor and I smile, placing her down onto the lawn as she races up the porch, Kiran quickly scurrying after her.

"Kiran was right, you do look like a princess," Azriel slips his scarred hand back into mine. "I’m glad you’re my knight in shining armor then." I bump his shoulder playfully and he smiles, the casual intimacy making my heart feel like it was expanding.

The door swings open, revealing a four year old Nyx and his mother. The twins invite themselves in, running through the large house to Nyx's room. "Thank you for this." I look to my high lady and she smiles as if to say it's no problem. "It's honestly not too much work, they distract each other." Feyre shrugs, moving from the doorway and inviting the both of us inside. I step passed the threshold, the house warm like a mothers embrace.

"They ate before we came so it's only dinner they need, and neither of them napped today so they'll be passed out by eight—" I begin before my mates scarred hand comes to my shoulder. I clamp my mouth shut and look to him. "Feyre's raised a kid before my love." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I release a soft sigh, this is the first time I've ever left the children for longer than a few hours— every what if? thought coursing through my mind.

"I understand," Feyre says and I look to her. "Or do you not remember the first time I left Nyx overnight?" She arched her brow. A small smile curves my lips as I remember the way she managed to check in every five minutes on any updates using her daemati powers. "Right, thank you again." I pull her in for a hug and she returns the action quickly, her warm spirit relaxing every nerve in my body.

"Aunt Fey!" Kiran comes toddling down the hallway with the two other kids trailing behind him. "What is it hon’?" She breaks from the hug to look at the boy. "Can we go outside?" He bounces on his toes excitedly. "Say goodbye to your mom first and then we can." She nods and they do as told.

Kiran attacks me in a hug, latching onto my legs. I grin and bend down, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. "We'll be back in the morning, have fun okay?" I say and he nods his head eagerly before walking over to his father who watched us intently. Melaina wrapped her arms around my neck tightly, hugging me like she didn't want me to go. "I wish I could come on the date too." Laina pouts as she pulls away. "Well my date unfortunately doesn't have cookies like yours does." I hum and her eyes light up with delight, a big smile coming to her face, two little dimples creasing her cheeks. Same as her father.

I tuck her hair behind her ears, short black strands that came down to her chin. When she cut it she claimed she wanted to look more like her Aunt Amren, which somehow made the Amren herself crack a small smile. "If you get too scared of the dark just cuddle in with your brother alright?" I tilt my head and she nods with a bobble of her head. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning my dear." I lean forward and press a kiss to her cheek. Kiran comes back to me, tugging at Laina's hand and angling for outside. "I love you both, have fun okay?" I raise my brows at them like it's a command. They both agree before rushing off toward the backyard with Nyx.

"I'll see you tomorrow." I smile toward Feyre, intertwining my hand with Azriels. "I'll have a bottle of wine waiting." She cheekily grinned and I returned it. "Alright, c'mon." The shadow singer leads me toward the front door. "Thank you!" I call to the high lady once again before Azriel gets me out the door and away from the wards.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"It's weird being without them." I mutter across the table to my mate, a plate of freshly made food just set in front of me. "I feel like apart of me is missing." I look down at my figure as if I've forgotten my purse at home. Azriel reaches forward and intertwines our hands. "I can remember a time when it was just me and you." He hums as I trail the tip of my finger down the streams of white scarring his hand. "Feels like a century since it's been only us." I sigh, my shoulders falling as if a weight had lifted from them. "It's been a very long two years." I mumble and he gives me a warm smile, the candle light flickering over his sharp features.

The restaurant we stayed in was one of the nicest in Velaris. It held an elegant atmosphere, navy colored walls with a ceiling made entirely out of glass, allowing you to peer up and see the night sky's perfect full moon that illuminated the entire place, the only other lighting is the tall, skinny candles at each of the tables creating a cozy ambiance. The furnishings were more comfortable than the ones at our own home and the ornate dishes were golden rimmed. Some old part of me wanted to say we couldn't afford something like this, but we could. With the outlandish salary Rhys supplies both of us, we had enough to buy this entire restaurant with extra to spare.

"Sooner or later they're going to be teenagers." Azriel grumbles and it pains me to think about. Life moved so fast, the childhood phase is the shortest stage of a faeries life. I couldn’t help but think that I’d blink and they’d be full grown adults. "Laina will start getting boy's attention." I sing in a teasing tune and Azriel's gaze hardens. "Yeah right, she won't be dating until I'm dead." He leans back in his chair defensively. I have no doubt that her two uncles have the same thoughts as well.

She's the only girl, so far, though it's been up in the air whether or not Cassian and Nesta would be having babes. But at the moment, Melaina seemed to be the sole heart of all three males and it had become their mission to protect her at all costs, little do they know it'll be Mor and I sneaking her into parties.

I smile at the idea, looking to him. "What are you thinking about?" He narrows his eyes on me curiously, shadows swirling up my ankles. I debate telling him the truth or not but decide on changing the subject entirely. "We're going to be alone tonight for the first time in a while," I hum. "I might have a small surprise for when we get home." I shrug and his eyes glow like he's about to winnow us straight back to the house. I ignore the lust in his gaze and pick up my fork, flicking my eyes up to him then back down to my plate. "You can't just say that and then expect me to go on." He grumbled, grabbing his own utensil. "Can't I?" A smirk tugs at my lips and he glowers in reply, watching as I dig into my warm meal.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Can we fly?" I plead, pulling at my mates hand as we stroll down the cobblestones toward The Cabin, which we needed to winnow to otherwise we wouldn’t be able to make it before sunrise. "Flying takes a long time too my love," He said matter of factly, "Just for a few minutes, please?" I wrap my free arm around his bicep and he gives me a contemplated look but I know I've got him hooked. "Then we can winnow, promise." I squeeze his hand and he releases a long sigh before stopping in his tracks and opening his arms out for me.

I waste no time in jumping straight into them, latching my arms behind his head and securing my legs at his torso, his hands coming under my thighs to support me. "Ready?" He arches a brow and I nod with a giddy smile. He stifles his own grin before the boom of his wings blasted us up into the air. I shrieked and held onto him tighter, my chest flush against his— afraid I might slip from his grasp.

His large arms held me tighter, tucking me close as I stared down below us, the buildings growing smaller and smaller as we flew higher. My breath hitched when noticing how far we are from the ground. "You always want me to fly you but every time we do you seem so scared." He intones and I snuggle closer into his neck. "I forget I'm scared of heights." I mumble into his skin, clenching my eyes shut. "I won't drop you." His voice is stern as if he had to convince me. "I know." I hum. "Do you want me to put you down?" He offers and I shake my head.

"Sooner or later our kids will be flying too," I say. "I don't want to be left out." I explain and he chuckles. "I'm pretty sure you don’t want to be apart of flying lessons." He informs and I roll my eyes. "You are not pushing our children off a cliff." I rule as if it wasn't a given. "How else will they learn?" His brows crease like he knows no other way. "Just because that's how you learned doesn't mean that’s how they need to learn." I grumble. "But as long as you don't send them to Windhaven I won't complain." I sigh. He bristles at the idea. "I'd never send Laina there." He mutters.

"I hate that place." I bite out. I know at one point it felt like heaven to Azriel, to be out of a cell and finally able to be a kid. Even if that meant being at a place where you get lashings as encouragements, it was better than that windowless prison. "But I think our daughter would be ruling that place in a week's time." I snort, making light of the idea. He didn't reply, which told me he didn't want to dwell on it any longer than he already has.

I rest my head back down onto his shoulder, staring at the three mountains in the distance, stars twinkling above them, shimmering in the dark night like they're trying to get me to notice them. I turn my head to look toward where we’re going, spotting the two twin peaks in the distance where I knew the Cabin sat between, a promise of warmth and security lied there and I decided I had enough cold wind and tall heights for the night.

"You can winnow us now." I state. "Thank you for flying me." I add and he presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Anytime." His arms squeeze tighter around me before he's pulling us from the sky and down onto the ground.

Darkness envelops us, taking us from one realm to another before we’re directly in front of the cabin.

I release a content sigh as he sets me down onto the ground, his wings stretching out before tucking behind him again. I march up the pathway to the front door, undoing whatever protection wards Rhys put on this house. I open the door and step into the foyer, Azriel following after me.

I kick off my heels and allow the warm air to comfort me as I waltz further into The Cabin, my dress swishing around me as I turn to find Azriel plopping down onto the couch, his head lying on the armrest while his long legs hung over the edge. “C’mere.” He reaches towards me, shadows pushing at my back so I can find my way to him. He grabs me by the hand as soon as I’m in reach then yanks me down onto him. I gasp and slam a hand into his chest, attempting to catch myself. A smile curves his features as I settle atop him, my arms coming around his neck while his hold remains roaming my waist.

I stuff my face into the crook of his neck, cuddling into him further. “I missed you.” I mumble. “You see me everyday.” He chuckled, his hand coming higher to my back as he spoke. “I miss just us.” I correct. “I miss just us too” My mate sighs and I pick my head up, looking at his sharp features, running the tip of my finger down his nose, across his jawline, over his brow; all while he stares up at me with all too much love in his eyes. “You’re so pretty.” I hum softly, tilting my head at him. He reaches up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “I was going to say the same thing about you.” He looks up at me like I’m the only person on the continent, and I know his eyes aren’t the color of the ocean but I can’t help myself from drowning in them.

I lean down and press a kiss to his lips and it was lovely. No distractions, no duties or things I needed to worry about, and no children. Just him and I. He chases me back to him when I pull away and I smile into it, pressing my chest to his as I press him impossibly closer. His tongue swipes over my bottom lip and a small gasp slips from my lips, I quickly open my mouth a little wider and allow his entrance. His tongue passes my lips and explores every inch it can find, swirling around my own tongue before flicking it out. I whine when he starts to rear back, granting him an open mouth kiss, he hums against me, his hand snaking up to the nape of my neck and tugging me closer.

I pull away and he allows me to, our pants from lack of air fill the room and a drunken smile spreads over my lips as I look down at him. “Can I have that small surprise now?” He asks in between breaths. “Bedroom.” I utter. “I’ll show you in the bedroom.” I explain. His eyes glow golden and he wraps his arms tighter around me before standing up, my legs fastening around his torso as he carries us down the hall and into the first bedroom he comes across.

I kiss him again, his eyes flutter shut and he turns, pressing my back against the door and shutting it, his tongue dips into my mouth yet again, eager to taste me. I untwine my legs and slowly settle my feet down onto the ground. “Go sit on the bed.” I whisper against his lips. He nods but doesn’t dare break the kiss, his hands on my waist pulling me with him as he guides us both back to the mattress.

He settles down onto the bed and I back away from the kiss, shadows swirling around my back and slowly unzipping my cobalt blue dress, the silk dipping from my shoulders as I pull the straps off. I leisurely strip myself from the clothing and his eyes swallow every new inch of skin I reveal before letting it fall entirely to pool at my feet. He swallows thickly as his eyes rake all the way back up my figure, taking in the lacy lingerie set I wore just for him, the light blue material hugging every curve and dip of my body, delicate lace cupping over my most sacred areas and he looked as if he was about to tear the garments to shreds.

After a few moments of just allowing him to stare I step forward, settling my hands on his shoulders and taking a seat on his lap, straddling his hips. His scarred hands immediately come to my hips, fingers digging into my plush skin as a repercussion of his restraint. “Az,” I call. His eyes flick back up to mine and I dig my nails into his shoulders. “I need you.” I sigh out, winding my hips down onto his only to find how hard he is beneath me.

He wastes no time in flipping us over, pushing us up the bed so my head comes down to rest on the pillows. His forearms on either side of my head as he hovers over me. One of my hands comes to his bicep, my nails digging into the muscle as I feel his heavy member press down onto me. My other hand weaves into his hair, combing my fingers through it as he begins attacking my neck, every bare inch he can reach becomes his to claim and his only, marking and biting and sucking with all the fervor in his body. I release soft moans as I grind my hips up onto him, showing him how badly I needed him.

“Fuck, Az I’m begging you.” I whisper, pulling at a tuft of his dark hair in my fist. He detaches from his suction on my neck, looking up at me with half lidded eyes before he’s dipping further down, kissing a line through my breasts, down my ribs and past my navel until his lips reach my panty line. My breath catches in my throat as his hand latches onto the expensive material and he tears them straight off of me, his strength too much to control as he rips the lace into two and discards them off elsewhere.

“Azriel,” I cry out as he presses a kiss to just above where I wanted him. He smiles against my skin and I whimper, brows creasing as he teases the area. He stared right at my core, I attempt to squeeze my legs shut in embarrassment but shadows twine around my ankles and I’m suddenly strapped down onto the bed, incapable of moving my legs— so instead I begin to writhe, rolling my hips in need of any form of friction. “Please.” I sigh out breathlessly. He maintains eye contact with me as his head moves down and his tongue drags right through my neglected folds. I release a soft cry at the feeling, clenching around nothing as I slowly grind my hips up onto his face, his nose rubbing at my clit which drags a moan from the base of my throat.

He swipes his tongue lower, making contact with my slit and I groused with pure need. “Az.” My voice is a pitiful whisper, both of my hands now pulling at his dark locks. He growls at the sound of his name on my lips, the rough noise against my core sending vibrations up my spine and I mewl. At the distraction he takes his chance to thrust his tongue deep into my entrance.

My brows clench together at the sudden pleasure, hips stop grinding now that he did all the work for me, flicking his tongue in and out of me. “Gods, y’so good at that.” I pant in need of more. Shadows guide my legs over his shoulders as he feasted on me as if he hadn’t eaten for weeks and was on the brink of starvation, that I was his only source of life and he needed to ravage me, to consume me entirely. Dark tendrils swirl to the apex of my thighs, their touch teasingly cold as they flowed closer and closer to my most sensitive area.

A shriek escapes me as they find my clit, circulating tightly around the area, pulling moan after moan from me. The mix of the shadows and his tongue has my legs clenching around my mates head, forcing him deeper into me and his tongue finally finds that perfect spot. “Fuck, there.” I whine, pulling at his hair. His fingers press into my plush thighs hard enough to bruise as I chase my release.

“Az— need to cum.” I whimper and in reply he delves into me deeper, drinking every drop of my slick as it seeps out of me. Then he does something utterly wicked with his tongue, twisting it sharply right on that bundle of nerves and I find my release. Wailing at the intense feeling as ecstasy flooded into my very bones. In a moment of pure relief my legs begin to shake, shadows guiding them off of the spymaster’s shoulders and down onto the bedsheets I’ve soaked with my own arousal.

He leaves my entrance and move to my folds, lapping up any juices as shadows slowly leave my clit and his tongue does light kitten licks through my aching cunt, savoring the taste of me in his mouth as he does so.

He licks his lips once he fully backs away, coming back up to hover above me before crashing his lips down onto mine, allowing me to taste myself on his tongue as he slides it into my mouth the same way he had just done with my sex. I buck my hips up onto the rough material of his pants, already in need of his attention.

“Fuck me.” I plead against his mouth with a soft murmur. “Want it rough, Az.” I whine and he backs away from my lips at the request. “Then get on your knees.” He commands in a voice that could only belong to one of the most feared men in the Night Court. I scramble to do as he says, my thighs aching as I flip around and hike myself up onto all fours. “Fuck, you’re so good for me.” He presses a kiss to the top of my spine, his large hands rubbing over the curve of my ass. “Please Az, need your cock.” I beg and he plans to give me exactly what I want.

There’s a ruffle of clothes behind me but I’m too distracted by the feeling of his shadows unclasping my bra, slipping it off of my shoulders and carrying it over to the rest of my discarded garments. Calloused hands cup my now exposed breasts, massaging them as his thick shaft presses into my folds and I can’t help but rub myself on his length, lubing him needfully. One of his hands leaves my breast, splaying across my skin as it traveled all the way down, further and further until reaching his own sex and aligning it with my entrance.

He places a gentle kiss against my shoulder blade before pushing the head of his heavy cock inside of me. I grip the sheets under my hands as I adjust to the wide stretch. “Fuck,” I sigh out as he slowly drives deeper and deeper. I whine out his name as he pulls to the tip then fills me up further than before. “Harder,” I grunt out. “Need more.” My mumble seems to reach him because next thing I know he’s picking up the pace, shoving himself into me inch by inch, filling me up to the brim.

He hits that perfect spongy spot and I gasp in pure pleasure. “Right there, fuck— right there.” I moan out and he smiles against the sweaty skin of my shoulder. “I’m barely halfway, baby.” He informs and my stomach flutters. I swallow thickly, forgetting how long he is and gods he was already in so deep, thrusting into me as hard as he could and splitting me into two. I scream as he continues to abuse that sensitive spot, pushing past it and stretching me around him, molding me to him as he marveled at how tightly I clenched his thick member.

I choke out a sob as his hips finally meet mine and I know he’s entirely sheathed inside of me. He stays there for a moment, delighting in the feeling of my walls contracting around him so perfectly. “That’s it love, taking me so well.” He hums and I nod in a pitiful attempt to please him, show him I’ll agree to whatever he wants as long as he continues to fuck me senseless.

He pulled all the way out to his tip, his cock gleaming in my slick and just as I was about to whine for more he snaps his hips and his heavy balls slap against my folds, striking home as he continues to pummel me with his length over and over again. My arms supporting me, buckle, and my head falls into the pillows. He groans at the new position, hitting so much deeper now. His hand went to my hair and he pushed my face into the mattress making breathing a laborious task but gods did it make it all so much better.

“You’re such a good girl,” He groans. “Just a perfect sleeve f’me aren’t you?” I reply with a mewl into the pillows. He grips my hair tighter and yanks me up, my back flush against his bare chest. “Say it.” He demands, his mouth finding purchase at my neck, hands sliding up to grope my breasts. “I’m just a perfect sleeve for you, Az.” I mumble helplessly, my mind blank as he fucks any coherent thoughts out of me. He twitches inside of me at the way I sound, so needy for anything he’s willing to give.

“Please, m’gonna cum.” I warn and he only knocks into me harsher, more forceful each time he shoved his sex into me. I pulse around him, my clit throbbing as shadows slip between my legs to soothe it, cold tendrils rolling over the puffy area. “Already?” He taunts and I nod with a pathetic whimper, my head falling back to rest against his collarbone, his thrusts not letting up for even a moment, instead going faster, forcing me to hold back from my merciless release, not allowing me to reach that high until he says I can.

“Azriel— s’too much I can’t.” I cry, tears brimming my eyes as he pounds every last inch of him farther into me. “You can baby, so take it like the good girl you are.” He commands and a tear slips from my eyes, his rough hands squeezing my breasts harder at the sound of my sobs.

He continues his relentless treatment, biting at my neck and adding so much more to the pleasure of it all. It’s been years since he’s fucked me like this, since he’s claimed me as his.

“Breed me.” I beg. He twitches inside of me at the lewd words. “Yeah?” He whispers into the shell of my ear. “You want me to fill you full of my cum?” He asks and I nod, relishing every drag of his cock along my walls. “Want me to get your belly round again, get your tits leaking from this cock?” Again I nod, it’s all I can do to refrain from begging him to let me have my beckoning orgasm. I grind my hips down onto him at his filthy words but the movements do nothing to soothe the ache rooting deep inside of me.

“Fuck,” His forehead rests against my shoulder as I wind down on him particularly hard. “You can cum.” He allows. It takes little time before my orgasm sprouts in the pit of my abdomen, spreading through my core and down to my jolting legs. He thrusts hard into me as I suck all of him in, walls fluttering around his cock and soon he was injecting every last drop of his seed into me.

Our noises filled the room as his warm release soothed every nerve in my body. He removed himself from me after a few thrusts, his cum dripping out of me and down onto my thighs messily. “You did so good.” He praises, guiding me down onto my back as he lays me down onto the pillows.

I release a soft sigh as he wraps his hold around my back and sinks his weight down between my legs, his chest flush against my breasts.

“Can you take more?” He asks in a soft voice, one that told me if I said no he’d be okay with it. But I didn’t know the next time we’d get the chance to be like this with each other again, so I nodded my head yes. “Mhm.” I utter and he smiles into my neck, kissing up the column of my throat while hardening again and I have remember the full extent of what I’ve got myself into.

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