#rhys is just really really jealous

[separatist-apologist]

I Was Enchanted To Meet You

Summary: In Feyre's nightmares, she sees him. Rhysand and his violet eyes, his inky hair.

She doesn't realize that's by design.

Or what lengths he's willing to go in order to have her.

This is for @the-lonelybarricade who has become one of my best fandom pals and is genuinely one of the nicest people I know. They deserve only good things and, occasionally, dark, moody, dubiously consenting things.

Chapter 2: This Night Is Sparkling

Chapter 1 | Read more: AO3

TW: dub-con via daemati magic. Sort of an ACOMAF re-write? 3/4ths smut, 1/4th plot.

-

You will stay with me.

Those words rattled through Feyre’s mind long after Rhys deposited her back in Spring. It was more of the same, some game she couldn’t piece together. She’d come back with tears in her eyes, on her knees some mile or two from the estate sobbing though she didn’t know why. It had been Lucien, as always, who’d found her and scooped her up, who took her back. 

What happened? His face screamed the question his lips did not dare to say. What happened to you?

Feyre’s anxiety was at a fever pitch, her nightmares pulling her from bed as they always did, though no longer did she imagine the bloodied red hair and piercing ash daggers. She imagined a shredding cord, gold turned to ash and a gaping hole nothing could fill.

“Come with me,” Lucien told her at the end of her first week, grabbing her hand and all but running her out the door. Dusk had just broken over the world, bathing the estate in nauseating pink. Feyre blinked against the light, lacing her fingers with Lucien’s. 

“Where are we going?”

“Away,” he said, the corners of his eyes pulled tightly. Feyre didn’t have to ask why. Lucien’s bruised eye, his cut cheek, his deflated shoulders told her that he had lost his favored position at court. Lucien wanted to train Feyre—had spoken his fears into existence only two nights before.

I can smell him on her. 

Tamlin had destroyed the drawing room for Lucien’s insinuation and Feyre, trembling and tired, had assured Tamlin she would remember if Rhysand had touched her. 

He barely talks to me.

He doesn’t trust me. 

But Feyre was missing too much—too many memories, too much of herself. There was a yawning cavern in her chest that seemed to stretch with each passing day. She didn’t know how to fill it, had begun to suspect whatever Rhys had taken could only be returned by his cruel hands. 

Ianthe and Tamlin had voted—no training for Feyre. It was too risky and Feyre was too delicate. 

She’s practically wasting away before our very eyes.

Lucien, his body a shield in front of her, had snarled so viciously only a bright pulse of Tamlin’s magic had kept him from shredding Ianthe to bloodied ribbons.

She cannot withstand him without help!

Feyre understood Tamlin’s pride. He could not abide by anything happening to his female, something he could not protect her from. If Ianthe said Feyre was fine and Feyre said she was fine, then Lucien must be warmongering.

He’s no better than his father.

Ferye had sworn she’d heard Tamlin say it, had gasped out loud when she heard it. But Tamlin’s mouth remained pressed in that thin, severe line and Lucien had not reacted at all. Perhaps she’d just imagined it. Perhaps she was the terrible one, thinking Lucien had too much in common with Beron.

They walked until the estate was out of sight and they were ensconced in waving trees. Feyre could still scent her metallic blood in the air, could still see the Surial hanging from the tree.

Stay with the High Lord. 

“Which High Lord,” Feyre murmured, drawing Lucien’s attention as they trudged through the woodland.

“Hm?”

Fingers squeezed around her throat.

You belong to me.

“The Surial,” she breathed, looking at her friend to steady herself against the rising dark. Shadows ribboned around the rough bark, slithering through the treetops to war with the banding gold sunlight. Lucien steadied her, was the only thing in the world Feyre was certain of. “It told me to stay with the High Lord.”

Lucien’s eyes snapped sharply to her face. “Is that–”

“Yes,” she breathed before he could ask. She could hear the question in her head.

Is that why you went beneath the mountain? 

Lucien sighed softly, squeezing her fingers in his grip. “Just a little further.”

Feyre could feel eyes on them, the ever watchful gaze of the Gods. Curious as to what rebellion might bring them, how Lucien would be punished when Tamlin inevitably learned he meant to test Feyre’s power. It was a terrible day—Feyre had thought perhaps she was no more magical than any other creature. Just strong, just steady.

Ice and wind poured from her fingertips. Fire licked against her skin, cooled only by salted water. Tendrils of night and shadow warred with the loveliest rays of dawn and day. Clawes beneath her knuckles pricked her skin, healed by that same metallic liquid. 

Lucien, with a hand over his mouth, guessed what Rhysand and Tamlin must have known. Born of all seven courts, Feyre had somehow inherited a piece of their magic. Turning to her, eyes wild, Lucien made a rare demand.

“Ask Rhys to train you.”

Feyre would have preferred Tamlin’s rage to Lucien’s careful words. “No.”

“Ask him–”

“He won’t–”

“He might,” Lucien disagreed quickly, silencing her with a look. “He might if he thought it would spite Tamlin. At least learn his magic.”

“And what of the rest?” she whispered. Lucien swallowed, looking over his shoulder. “I will teach you Autumn. The rest…the rest we will guard carefully and work on when no one is watching.”

“Tamlin will think…”

Lucien swallowed his feelings, looking again into the distance behind him. “I will do what I have to in order to reassure him nothing is happening…just as I always have.” Feyre didn’t let herself think about what that meant. Didn’t let herself the parting shot Rhys had offered before he’d left last month or how Tamlin had chased Lucien off when they’d first met.

“Don’t,” Ferye said, certain what Lucien would be forced to do involved Ianthe. Tamlin didn’t understand Lucien’s dislike, was well aware that every other male in the world seemed to be fascinated by the young priestess. “Don’t do anything. I…how can I be his wife if he won’t let me make my own decisions?”

That pactified something hot in Lucien’s gaze. He merely nodded.

“C’mon. Our secret, just for today.”

It was a secret only until Rhysand showed up. Feyre and Lucien, who had spent every day for a week together, were caught just on their way out the door. Lucien had woven careful spun lies, ones Tamlin only believed because he wanted to. Feyre dropped Lucien’s hand the moment she saw Rhys stroll up the steps, hands jammed in his pockets.

He tsked his disapproval and Feyre wondered if Rhys didn’t want to see Lucien die. “Off for a little more training, little fox?”

Tamlin and Ianthe both turned to look, just in time for Rhys to reach for Feyre and pull her closer. They were so busy staring down Lucien that Tamlin missed how Rhys’s hand curved over Feyre’s hip possessively or the way memories began to flood back in her mind. Lucien’s head snapped to look, nostrils flared. Feyre opened her mouth to scream the word—mate—but they were gone in a choking cloud of star kissed night. 

“Did you miss me?”

Feyre lunged at him, toppling him to the ground inelegantly before Rhys could gather his bearings. Feyre got one good hit against his lovely face, claws cutting against his cheek. Rhys’s eyes went wide as he rolled her off him, too careful not to hurt even when his fingers curled over her wrists. His knee pressed against her chest, pushing until Feyre felt the bones crack.

“That’s a cute little trick,” Rhys murmured, droplets of blood splattering over her face. “Is that what Lucien is teaching you? To become a little beastie—”

She spat in his face. Rhys only smiled, his face healing even as he hovered over her. “Are you angry I’ve brought you back…or angry I made you leave.”

And Ferye, who had come to Spring sobbing, could remember why now. 

“Don’t make me go back, Rhys, please—”

He knew she was remembering. Feyre’s bottom lip trembled. “Don’t take my memories again–”

But they were gone and so was Feyre’s fight. Rhys lowered his face and moved his knee so it was firmly between her legs. Nuzzling his bloodied nose against her own, he asked, “Did you miss me?”

“Why did you make me leave?” Feyre asked again, a tear sliding down her face. He’d interrupted their frenzy abruptly one morning and told her she’d have to go back. Feyre had begged and pleaded for him to stay but in the end, Rhys had left her all the same.

“Oh, darling,” he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Never again. I had to leave–”

“Take me with you,” Feyre whispered. “Don’t leave me behind, not like him.”

She wasn’t sure who him was, only that he never included her. He left her, too. Made her feel alone unless he needed to touch, to taste, to feel. Even her own body was up for debate. Rhys shifted over her, smoothing his fingers against her face.

“If you come with me…you can never go back,” Rhys warned. “Not even for Lucien—”

His name was enough to shatter the softly glowing spell around them. Feyre began to writhe, trying to stitch her two realities together. Lucien was her friend, the only person she could trust, Lucien—

“Shhh,” Rhys murmured, stroking her face. “What magic has your clever little fox woven around you, sweet Feyre? Hm? Tell me.”

A masculine voice shimmered like gold in her mind. Something belonged to her, something that could not be taken. “Train me,” she whispered. “My magic. Train me.”

Rhys continued his stroking. “Is that what your little fox was doing? Training you?”

“I’m not allowed,” she breathed. It was all fragmented, these threads. She had a sense he was plucking memories from her mind, pouring through their time apart. His face was a dark, roiling nightmare at what he found, the stars in his gaze winking out entirely. They were laying against wood floors in a place she’d never been. This wasn’t his moontop palace draped in jade and amethyst. This was some place else—a home, she thought. Rhys scooped her up, holding her in his arms as his nose began to set itself. 

“The High Lord of Spring thinks to tell my lady what she can and cannot do?” he murmured, taking her through an elegantly decorated living room towards a flight of stairs. She felt pacified–calm. She had loved that male once.

Maybe not anymore. 

“He’s worried the other High Lords will learn…”

“Oh, Feyre,” Rhys murmured, setting her atop a black blanketed bed big enough to accommodate the shadowy wings unfurling at his back. “He is afraid of you. You might outshine him, might be more powerful, more lovely, more stunning than anything his simple mind could ever dream of. He wants to keep you small.”

Something clawed at her chest, demanding to be freed from the cage she knew he’d set for her. Rhys stroked at her breasts as if he, too, felt it. 

“I’m going to let you out one day,” he whispered against her jaw. “And show everyone what a nightmare you truly are.”

Feyre whimpered. She didn’t want to go back. “You’ll do as he asked? You’ll train me?”

Rhys’s chuckle was dark and sultry. “Yes, darling. Soon. Tonight is for us but tomorrow is for you. I’ll need your help.”

“With what?”

“The Summer Court has something I require…something only you can retrieve for me. I mean to take you with me. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” she breathed. It was honest, just as honest as the kiss she pressed to his mouth. Feyre moaned at that first taste. She’d been missing this, though she hadn’t realized it. He moaned too, holding her face to take more. 

“This month without you has been a misery,” he told her, grinding his clothed hips against her body. “I have been consumed by my thoughts of you.”

She was sure she’d missed him too, though Feyre simply could not remember. Sliding her fingers through his soft, raven hair, Feyre merely kissed again and again, gliding her hips against him while he gripped her hard. Punishing. He kissed her like she was the air he breathed, like he’d fall apart without her. 

More, more, more. 

She wasn’t something fragile here but something powerful, something mighty. A rock against a weathering storm, unbreakable—unyielding. Feyre reached for his jacket, shucking it off his glorious body with little effort. She had a sense that her whole life had been a series of moments that forced her to be weak, to stay small. She was used to it and yet she loathed it. 

“Yes,” Rhys groaned when her nails dragged down his chest. Flipping them over, he lined her against him. “Take what you want from me.”

Feyre leaned to kiss him, biting his lip so hard she could taste blood. She moaned when the warm, salty copper flooded against her tongue, lowering her mouth to drag a line of it against his throat. Rhys’s hips jerked outside of his own accord as Feyre moved further down his body.

Something tugged against her mind, ordering her to push. Hands against the buttons of his pants, she looked up at him through star tipped lashes. She was there, freeing his cock…and then she wasn’t. She was watching herself pull out that heavy, thick cock. Watching as she yanked off his pants viciously, as she licked the length of his cock, feeling his writhing, hungry need.

Feyre gasped, and then it was all gone. Rhys watched, heavy lidded. “Did you like that?” he asked her.

“How…”

“You have my magic too,” he murmured with a rough sigh. “I intend to teach you to use it.”

“I was in your mind,” she said. “Feeling…”

“Feeling my desire? Seeing how beautiful you look about to suck my cock? You can come in my mind to look at yourself anytime you like. Maybe you’ll finally see what everyone else is missing.”

Feyre sucked the tip of him into her mouth, though she didn’t intend to stay long. His words had started a buzzing in her chest, a seeping awareness she didn’t know what to make of. This magical male had done something to her, though what, exactly, Feyre could not say. Perhaps she did not want to. It occurred to, just before she swallowed his heavy, swollen tip, that Feyre was content to know nothing beyond this. 

The world was big—messy. And she was tired of navigating it. 

“No one takes care of you, do they?” he murmured softly, gathering up her hair. “No one sees how delicate my sweet mate is.”

His words ended abruptly when she swallowed a good third of him, drawing him into her throat. Rhys made a series of garbled noises that shot straight between her legs. She needed more of this, more of those whimpering, pleading noises coming from his mouth. Legs spread wide, wings flared on either side, she thought he looked like some terrible, dark prince splayed out.

Rhys reached for her before she finished, forgetting she’d always meant to straddle his waist. A phantom talon sliced through her pretty dress. “No more pastels,” he whispered, shoving the remnants of the fabric off her body. 

Rhys lifted her, seating her just over his pulsating cock. Feyre jerked from his grip and slid down him quickly, her moan of pleasure mingling with his own. “Ride me, darling,” he begged. “I need this—need you.”

She rolled her hips, sinking back into a familiar, frenzied place. “Mate,” she whispered. That was real. She could cling to that and rebuild her messy world from the ground up on that word alone. The male beneath her, with his thrusting hips and his parted lips. He was real, too. Rhysand. “Rhys,” she whispered, pressing her chest against his body until their lips had crashed together, tongues stroking in time with their frantic bodies.

“Come for me,” he begged. “Feyre, please.”

And she did, shattering around him until the world was nothing but him. Only the beautiful male beneath her, holding her hips while he pumped frantically. Rhys had her on her back, knees in the air, in a moment. 

“I want to see you,” he whispered, spreading out her legs to look at their combined bodies. “All of you.”

“You have me,” she told him, reaching for the edge of his wing enveloping them. “I’m yours.”

He shattered into a thousands roaring pieces, pouring come into her body. Feyre remembered how he’d hoped something might stick.

She hoped that too, clinging desperately to him. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“I won’t,” she swore.

But some small part of her hesitated. 

A beast waited.

~*~

Feyre sent her note to Tamlin. I’m not coming back. It must have said other things, though she hardly remembered. It was becoming a problem. Tugged by strings that didn’t belong, Feyre moved when she was supposed to. Said what she was supposed to say.

Smiled when she was supposed to smile.

She was clawing at those little cords constantly, ripping them apart only for new ones to appear. One day she’d break free and pull it all together. She remembered Lucien, though she knew she wasn’t supposed to. Remembered his name, his face. Remembered his final words. She tucked that glowing memory deep, deep inside herself where no one could access it and forced Rhys to live up to that promise. She had a sense someone else had not.

And Rhys did. He trained her as best he could, forcing her to build a shield in her mind until even he could not access it. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. 

“Very good,” he’d purr before pulling her into his lap for a kiss that made her breathless with need. The bond between them had not released them and Feyre was all too happy for the distraction. Happier still to be cared for in this way. No longer shut out—though of what, she couldn’t say—Rhys included her in his scheming. He wanted the Book of Breathings and he needed her to help him get it. 

Some small part of her knew it was wrong but a darker, much larger part just did not care. The place that governed her mating bond and her missing memories crooned a lullaby. Everything is fine. Don’t worry about that. Sweet, pretty Feyre.

She didn’t want to. Not then, not when every time she pushed the memories of red came peeking back. Memories of death and rot and ruin washed through her until she was gasping desperately for air and vomiting on the floor. Those days saw Rhys sweep her up in his arms and whisper words she just vaguely heard. Sometimes he’d hold her hair while she heaved up everything she ate before he took her someplace quiet and cool.

This is wrong. You are a princess of daylight and life, the shimmering air seemed to murmur. But the twinkling stars up above always had reply just as soon as the sun went down.

Princess of carrion, of rot and death and bone. Join us in the darkness. Welcome home. 

She was excited to go to Summer. Dressed in the softest gown of lavender, her hair pulled off her face with a headband, Rhys brought her and his second, Amren. Amren, who was the shortest woman Feyre had ever seen, with eyes that felt all-too familiar. Like she, too, knew of the horrors lurking.

Amren had mastered them. Feyre had not. Amren’s silvery eyes lingered on Feyre until Rhys put his body between the two women and Feyre wondered if he’d done it on purpose. Rhys had been invited to mend relations between their two courts but Feyre knew she was the distraction. Tarquin couldn’t take his eyes off her, curious about the runaway bride from Spring. 

Feyre didn’t know whose voice spoke for when all of Summer Court turned their eyes on her. “He let me go,” she said, almost breathless with wonder. 

I wish, her traitorous thoughts agreed. 

“It’s over between us.”

“What a relief, then, know we are not harboring a stolen bride,” Cressida said softly, a princess of sea and sand. Feyre was too mesmerized by the blue of her eyes, swimming like the water just behind them. “And that we do not need to bother returning her to her master, as the law demands. And as any wise person might do, to keep trouble from their doorstep.”

“I left of my own free will. And no one is my master.”

Feyre blinked and then blinked again. War. It made her head burn with that blood red and for a moment everything came flooding back, stitched like a poorly sewn tapestry. Tamlin and Rhys, Amarantha and Spring and Night. The magic in her body, the same tasked with protecting her, reared its head to slam Rhysand out just long enough for Feyre to take an actual breath. 

He was teaching her to use her magic…but not this. Not to control him, to control others. And Feyre reached out tentatively before he could stop her, and pushed into Cressida’s mind. 

Everything is fine. Tamlin isn’t looking for me. Summer is safe. I am safe. 

And then those walls she’d so carefully built slammed apart and Rhys was there, shoving her down, down, down. 

She did have a master, at least for now. Turning her head before anyone could realize something was wrong, Ferye looked to her mate. He was speaking, his words smooth and easy, his body relaxed. Master.

He heard her think it, his mouth twitching with a smile. 

That’s enough, Ferye, his voice crooned softly in her mind. Where is my good girl? My sweet mate? 

And it was all gone, then. Feyre blinked again, offering Tarquin a saccharine smile. It was her own and yet felt so foreign on her face that her cheeks seemed to ache from it. Tarquin stared for a moment, head cocked. Did he recognize his humming magic fluttering through her veins? 

He smiled back and Feyre was almost breathless. He was so beautiful. Her fingers twitched to touch, to connect with this tiny little piece of herself and make it whole. 

She didn’t, not until he offered to show her his palace. Only then did Ferye slide her hand into his and revel in the warmth of his skin. He smiled again, telling her of his jewels, his treasure, his trove. It was far lovelier than anything she’d ever seen. He offered her a necklace with so much earnestness and the sweetest smile that for one moment, she wished she’d met him first.

Darkness rumbled through her chest. 

Back in her bedroom, Rhysand was unimpressed with the gift, with the way she so easily drew seawater from her eyes and hands. He was fixated. “You wished you’d met the High Lord of Summer first?”

Feyre didn’t move. 

“Answer me,” he whispered, his voice seductive like the night pouring through the windows around them. Salty air and crashing waves punctuated the silence .

“He is kind,” she said, unable to explain why, exactly, that mattered so much to her. Rhys arched one of those dark, sculpted brows. 

“Why don’t you tell him you think so?”

She leveled a step towards the male before him but a knock on the door gave Feyre pause. Rhys was watching, those starlit eyes glittering with some emotion she didn’t immediately recognize. 

“Open it,” he demanded. Feyre felt pulled, like she couldn’t say no even if she’d wanted to. That was familiar, she thought, reaching for the silver handle.

Tarquin was on the other side, shirtless and draped in a pair of breezy linen pants. 

“This isn’t real,” she whispered, staring into his clear, blue eyes. Tarquin only smiled, brushing icy white hair off his broad, muscular shoulders.

“Isn’t it, though?” came his purring voice. That was Rhysand—she knew it, and yet when he pushed forward, Feyre jumped out of his way. Rhysand ought to have been just behind her but the room was empty now, save for Tarquin and Feyre, locked behind that now closed door. 

Tarquin’s eyes swept through the room, a smirk stealing across his handsome features.

“You wanted to express your gratitude?” he murmured, coming close enough she could touch him. Feyre was desperate to lay her hand against the flat of his stomach, just to see if her magic would react. It was shadow and now water that roiled in her veins even as Tarquin reached for her face, tilting it towards him.

“Tell me the truth, Feyre,” he whispered, his breath fanning over her face. “Do you truly think I’m kind? Or are you just desperate for any attention that you’ll take what you can get?”

“That’s not…I’m not…” his other hand was wrapped around her waist, his thumb rubbing little circles. He smiled.

“Of course not. Tell me, darling. Will you smile for me again?”

“Is that what this is about?” she asked, sliding her hand up his chest.

“Get on your knees,” came Tarquin’s voice, his once kind features shifting into near cruel amusement. “Thank your High Lord for treating you with kindness.”

Feyre looked up in his eyes, hesitating for only a moment. 

This is your game, she whispered in her mind as she sank to her knees.

You want it, Rhys’s voice purred in reply.

Tarquins warm hands came over her own, helping her remove the pants slung low against his hips. The considerable length of him sprang free, hard and thick and already pooling moisture against the tip. For the first time since Tarquin had walked in, Feyre considered that perhaps this wasn’t a game. Maybe Rhys had merely spoken to the High Lord of Summer mind to mind and offered her up.

“I hear you swallow like a dream,” Tarquin murmured, taking a fistful of her hair. “Open that pretty mouth.”

The head of his cock pressed against her lips, wiping come against them. Feyre was in to deep—she opened her mouth, allowing him to push his swollen cock into her mouth with a satisfied breath of air.

“We should pass you around to all the High Lords,” Tarquin grunted, using that hand in her hair to work him over him. “Let them see how good Prythian’s Cursebreaker sucks and swallows.”

Feyre pressed her knees together as he worked her, well aware Tarquin—or whoever he was—could scent the pooling arousal just between. Just like Rhys, her jaw ached the longer she sucked, widened unnaturally in order to accommodate the girth.  Tarquin was unconcerned, his eyes rolling upwards. The muscles of his gleaming thighs were taut, his whole body trembling ever so slightly.

“Do I get to come down that milking throat?” he rasped. “Or should I let you wear it like a necklace?” 

Feyre could only whine in response. She was at his disposal, could not tell him what would please her, if it even mattered. 

“Swallow it,” he demanded, dragging her closer and closer to the flat plain of his stomach. “Tell me if the salt reminds you of the sea.”

He pulled roughly, forcing more of his bruising cock into her throat. Feyre pushed at this thighs for all the good it did. Tarquin might have been made of granite, holding her still as his cock pulsated and twitched, his cock sliding down her throat while she gagged and choked. 

He pulled her off him, mouth popping wetly. “Well?” he whispered, hauling her up to her feet. Feyre was mistaken in thinking it was all over—that he’d come and she could go back to her evening. 

“Did you like the taste?” he asked her, pressing his mouth against her own before she could ever respond. Tarquin backed her up, leading her away from the door towards the turquoise and gold bed centered in the middle of the room. By virtue of his bigger body, his stronger frame, Feyre was swept up in the dominance of the moment, of the messy, exploratory kiss that all but robbed her of breath.

He tasted like citrus, his tongue sliding between her lips to find his own arousal. Tarquin groaned and the sound of his heady desire shot straight to her belly.

“Are your holes mine to use?” he asked, pushing the straps of her dress off her shoulders?

“I…” Feyre was fogged with lust, unsure what to even say. 

Her dress pooled like moonlight at her feet, shimmering like the stars twinkling just outside her window. She reached for him but Tarquin was quick, spinning her so her naked torso was pressed against the unmade bed. One hand rang a slap against her ass before he pushed her lower. She let Tarquin manipulate her body, tucking her legs on either side just beneath her until just her pussy and her ass were hanging off the edge. Tarquin smacked again, harder this time. The bite of pain made her yelp, her skin suddenly burning. 

“I’ll bet you have males begging to eat that pretty pussy. Don’t you, Feyre?”

Another slap.

“Is that what you thought? Sweet, nice Tarquin would get on his knees for you like Tamlin does?”

She sucked in a breath. “Wha–”

He smacked again, the hardest yet. Tears sprang to her eyes though she didn’t move save to look over her shoulder. Tarquin was watching, eyes wholly focused on her gleaming cunt as he stroked his still hard cock. 

“You don’t get to come on my cock, Feyre. You are just a hole for me to fuck.”

Feyre screamed when he thrust into her, so hard she could feel it reverberating in her bones. Another slap against her aching ass was all she got for her trouble. One hand against her spine, the other holding her hips with bruising force, Tarquin pushed Feyre’s face into the blanket.

“Too loud,” he warned, his words just barely louder than the slap of his body. “Don’t want the whole palace to know how greedy you are, do you?”

She moaned into the fabric, her body responding with a flood of slick. Tarquin chuckled darkly behind her.

“What did I say, darling? You don’t come on my cock.”

She didn’t know if she could stop herself. Something was between her thighs—besides Tarquin, of course—teasing and tugging at her aching, swollen clit. Feyre wanted friction so badly, wanted to feel that ecstasy of release that she didn’t question what might actually be responsible for the feather-soft kissing.

Tarquin’s soft grunting drew her back to reality. Her body spasmed around him automatically, wanting to draw him in, liking the force with which he was pounding into her. He kept her pressed to the bed as he pushed, angling her hips up higher until her knees threatened to come off the bed entirely.

“Your pussy grips my cock so well,” he praised. “It seems the Cursebreaker can do more than just suck.”

She whimpered. 

“Wait until I tell the others. We’ll keep you at our feet on a leash, pass you around until that pussy drips nothing but come. Would you like that, Feyre? Birth seven heirs for all seven courts with that pretty, breeding pussy of yours?”

Each word was punctuated with a well-time thrust. She moaned again. “If you finish, I’ll punish you, darling,” his voice purred. “Any moment, now. Be a good girl and keep that ass arched for me.”

His voice wasn’t quite right. Feyre couldn’t move, pinned beneath his broad hand though something shadowy had blocked out the little light from the window. Wings. Massive, membranous wings were folded around her as that lingering scent of citrus and the sea now cascaded over her.

It had never been Tarquin. She’d known that, hadn’t she? And yet it was jarring when she felt Rhysand push himself one last time into her body and spill himself within her, how real the whole thing felt. How she’d been so certain it had been him.

Rhys went still, his hand palming her ass. “You didn’t come.” 

It was his dark, deep voice who spoke, and his broad, muscular body now blanketed against her back. His shadows that had teased but not enough to make her finish.

“You told me not to,” she whispered, turning her head to meet his violet gaze. Rhys dragged a finger through her body, sliding it back into her body along with the release that was dripping out of her.

“You smiled at him,” Rhys whispered, sinking to his knees beneath her.

“That didn’t mean I wanted to have sex with him,” she whispered.

“You didn’t,” he said, his breath fanning against her cunt. “You were fucking me. You merely saw what you wanted to see.”

“Liar,” she replied, daring to say it. “You’re the only person I ever want to see.”

His tongue slid along the seam of her, tasting their mingled arousal. He groaned when he heard her say that, dragging her hips to hover directly above his face. “My pretty mate is so sweet when she wants to be.”

Rhys sucked her clit between soft lips before he began licking wildly, spreading her open and holding her tight against him. How he could breathe, Feyre didn’t know. Maybe she didn’t care.

Maybe Feyre wanted Rhys to feel a little discomfort. 

Grinding against him, Feyre pressed even closer, until she could feel his nose rubbing against her with each new licking pass. Rhys didn’t move at all and if he needed air to breathe he certainly didn’t act like it. He merely continued to lick until he could tell climax was building. Only then did Rhys add his fingers into the dripping wet, fucking her with an obscenely wet sound that made Feyre moan.

“The whole palace has heard how well I fuck you,” he gasped before he returned his taunting, teasing lips to her body. Feyre didn’t care, rolling her hips against him, fucking his hand desperately. This was what she needed. Something that was for her, something that was dependent on his raging erection or need to finish. .

She broke over his face, coating him in her release. Rhys road her through it with a loud, trembling groan that made her stomach clench. “That’s it, Feyre,” he panted wildly, taking one last ragged taste. 

Pulling her off the bed, Rhys held her against him, his face buried in her hair.

“What would it take for you to truly love me?” he whispered between the strands, his wings cocooning around them.

“What?” she asked, his words already fading. She swallowed. “What did you say?”

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

“I said you come so pretty against my face, darling.”

But she was certain that was a lie.

~*~

In the morning, Tarquin smiled just as nicely at Feyre as he had the day before. He didn’t know he’d been the subject of her nightly fantasy though she would certainly never forget it. He was far too polite to say if he’d heard what went on between her and Rhys. Sunlight was peeking through the dark haze that was Feyre’s mind and memories though she didn’t think Rhys was aware of it.

Feyre could feel his purring presence, a cat curled in her lap while that clawed talon waited to pull her around. She didn’t know when she’d first realized but some small shred of herself was hiding in the darkest recesses.

Watching. 

She couldn’t remember what came before, though she was sure there must have been something. All that was gone, tucked away in a locked chest, with a key hanging about the cat’s collar. To get to it, Feyre would have to somehow shove Rhys out entirely. He was over five centuries old and his practice and control far exceeded her own. 

And still, she had managed to go undetected all morning. Rhys didn’t notice when Feyre decided to practice on the High Lord of Summer, burrowing into his own mind to look for the book. Down, down, down, until she saw it, hidden offshore in a place only Tarquin could reach.

And Rhys didn’t realize, when Tarquin placidly offered to take Feyre on a tour of Adriata, that he was taking her to that half hidden structure. 

“For you,” he murmured, unaware of what he truly offered. Feyre leaned up on her tiptoes and gave Tarquin a kiss on the cheek. To him, it was merely another piece of jewelry. A small token of his affection, standing ankle deep in water and sand. 

“You’re so kind,” Feyre told him, smiling wide. “I can never repay you for all this.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, hand on her back. Rhys’s presence was watching, seeing exactly what Tarquin saw. A bustling market place surrounded by people surreptitiously eyeing the High Lord. The pretty necklace in her hand. 

Feyre.

Smiling.

It was thrilling to meet Rhys and Amren just outside the palace. She presented not a pretty diamond trinket, but one half of the Book of Breathings. Amren’s silver eyes narrowed.

“Where did you get that, girl?”

But Feyre was looking at Rhys and his slack jawed expression. When did you get that? His voice whispered through her mind. He was invading again, that claw looking for what he’d missed. She scurried back, waiting for him to dig her out but Rhys swept right over her…missing what was beneath his nose. 

Still, his fogging magic smothered most of her resistance until Feyre was looking up at him, lips parted. 

“He gave it to me,” she said breathlessly. Rhys’s brow furrowed and Amren, clearly satisfied, was the one who answered.

“Must have been all those pretty smiles. We should leave before he realizes the gravity of his mistake.”

Rhys offered her his hand, gleaming like shimmering dusk beneath the beating, overhead sun. Feyre didn’t hesitate to take it, pleased when he pulled her into his chest before winnowing away without so much as a goodbye. Rhys deposited them both mid-air, laughing when Feyre screamed as they plummeted back to Earth. He still held her, his massive wings slowing them until they were airborne again, headed towards his mountainside palace. Clutching at his neck, Feyre didn’t release Rhys until he very gently pried her fingers off him.

“You…you’re a—”

He raised his brows as something familiar rose through her. Some old anger she’d forgotten, buried like a life she’d long since stopped living. It was gone just as quickly as it came, replaced with that softness she so often felt for him. 

“I’m a what, darling?” he murmured, caressing her cheek in his hand.

“You scared me,” she whispered. Rhys had the decency, at least, too seem apologetic.

“So did you,” he admitted, drawing her in for a kiss. “Why don’t you smile at me?”

Feyre blinked. “I…” 

It’s not real, some soft voice in her head whispered. When had she truly last smiled, besides? Years. Her whole life was a blur of suffering, of desperately trying to survive an onslaught of misery she couldn’t hold back. 

Could he sense those thoughts? His thumb rubbed against her cheek, eyes impossibly soft. “No one takes care of you.”

Was that what he was doing? She supposed it was. Rhys bent his knees, pulling her into his arms like she was his new bride. “My soft, sweet mate takes care of everyone. And how do they repay her?”

She pressed her head to his chest.

“They take from her. They lock her away. They refuse her information, training…power.”

“And you?” she asked when they reached the bedroom they shared. 

Rhys halted for a moment, still holding her like she was everything to him. Infinitely precious. Feyre felt it when his grip tightened and his eyes darkened. She expected him to lay her out, to peel her from her clothes and make love to her like he so often liked to do. Feyre wanted that, too. 

“You are my equal, Feyre,” he murmured. Caught by surprise, Feyre let him set her back to her feet. 

“You are my mate,” he added, with surprisingly ferocity. As if she didn’t understand what that truly meant to him. She realized she didn’t when he added, “I’ve been waiting five centuries for you.”

She didn’t know if she’d ever known what it meant to breathe before that moment. Feyre’s heart thundered in her chest as Rhys ran a hand through his inky black hair, his eyes wild and panicked.

“The whole world has a better claim to you than me, but Feyre I would lay the world at your feet if I thought you wanted that.”

The world rumbled for a moment, as if he meant to make the entire universe bow to his every whim. Rhys’s eyes glazed for a moment and then he was reaching for her. 

“Come with me,” he whispered, grabbing her wrist. Feyre trotted obediently after him, that tiny piece of herself watching with curiosity just out of his awareness. What did he mean to do? 

He swept her up, taking her back into Velaris. Like she’d imagined of Tarquin, the bustling crowds all paused to stare at their High Lord, head held high as he walked. Did he notice their eyes?

Or was it so normal he didn’t recognize their awe.

Cobbled streets and brightly colored homes were tucked against the same snow capped mountains as the palace. At the very top, overlooking the city at large, was the iridescent tower that belonged to the priestesses.

“Rhys–”

“It’s not what you think,” he all but panted, long legs moving just a little quicker. She had no say in the matter, not that Feyre would have told him no. They were mated, after all. What was marriage by comparison? Still, marriage, she thought, meant something. That little bit of her couldn’t figure out what. Too much was lost and too little could be risked by digging.

A wide eyed priestess draped in silvery blue met them at the door. She swept into a bow.

“High Lord,” she demurred, bent at the knees. “How can we serve you?”

Rhys’s eyes slid from the priestess to Feyre.

“I mean to make my mate my equal,” he said, his voice raw and dark like the onyx granite of the mountain behind them.

“Swear her in as High Lady of the Night Court.”

#i dont think this is even that bad but geeze i don't want to tag it either #feysand smut #dark feysand #feyre and tarquin sort of? #rhys is just really really jealous #and i am living gratuitously through feyre being so hot all the high lords want her #wish that was me

[shiv--roy]

taika has been so fucking annoying for the past couple of years but goddamn if he didn't bring all of his acting skills to the table for this season of ofmd

#i think it really helps that rhys darby is an excellent performer and a friend of his #obv rez dogs and wwdits are also excellent but i dont think he has a heavy hand in the actual production of those #on another note about ofmd #this person i used to hang with a lot during my first semester of college is a writer for the show #and i am somewhat sad that they kinda dropped me and started hanging out w a more pretentious artsier cliquey group #but i am so so grudgingly impressed when i see that their name at the end credits of some of the shows best eps #i am deeply jealous but like hey good for them #there's a few ppl i went to college with who've blown up in different ways and i'll admit most of them really deserve it #except one person who is coasting off nepo baby success just as much as they were back then!!! #her writing is as horrific as her comedic timing which should almost be impossible when her dad is who he is #truly embarrassing to not inherit even an ounce of his talent!

[rhys-ravenfeather]

A moment of silence for the days where I could actually come up with creative/clever titles for my fanfic chapters.

#rhys-ravenfeather signing on #i've started reading a fanfic lately and only just noticed in the chapter i read today that the author gave titles to their chapters #meanwhile i didn't bother giving titles to the chapters of my own ahit fanfic :P #just chapter one two etc. :P #it's not really something i'm particularly sensitive or jealous of it's just kind of funny looking at it #given that my ahit au/fanfic is probably the one i'm most passionate about #all my creativity went into writing the actual story itself XD #though i come up with creative names for my open rp starters so i'll consider those a half-example? #i guess i could theoretically go back and come up with titles for my chapters and rename them #but tbh i think it's probably a bit late in the game for that... #and again i don't really feel like it's really that big a deal :P #though maybe i'll give the different oto chapters fun chapters when i publish it as a graphic novel #especially given the direction i ended up deciding to go with that story #and hey i didn't give the myth city chapters titles so that could also make up for that :P #sorry this got long--just the dumb thoughts of a writer

[lalacliffthorne]

📃 the basic rules of friendship 📃

Azriel x Reader

summary: the basic rules of friendship. and how to break them.

notes: oh boy. writing this one was pure and utter chaos. it gave me a headache. it did not want to work out. I changed the whole damn plot like five times, because I just wasn't happy with my ideas; they didn't work, they didn't feel right, but I had this specific part that I really wanted to write around, so I couldn't just give it up and call it a day either. then once I finally had it figured out, it still took ages to finish the whole thing, because my brain just wasn't braining - to sum it up, this lil piece of writing basically fried me. but, the last few days, it got easier, I wasn't just staring at the words anymore and what I wrote finally didn't feel blah - and I made it!

so here are the basic rules of friendship. they are long af, and even though they strongly advise against it, there's smut. steamy steamy smut.

______________________________________________________________

the basic rules of friendship

no. 1: friends are there for each other (friends also never get jealous).

Staring up at the male in front of me, I hoped my facial expression didn´t convey my current thoughts.

Someone help me.

" - so of course we went in, and even though it was a bit of a struggle, we managed to get them all." The male sent me a grin, and I felt my lips curve, though it probably looked slightly pained.

Mor had decided it was that time of year again where she tried herself at being matchmaker. She had picked me as target of the night, using the festivities as a clever cover to drag me from one male she thought might fit the requirements to the next.

The one I was talking to now was by far the most pleasant one this evening, which was probably why I hadn't bolted yet. He had even managed to make me laugh a few times, while the few males before that had been closer to making me cry in despair. He was fairly pretty too, with a cheeky smile, dimples and warm eyes. And I really should have been interested, because he seemed sweet, and funny, and actually charming.

But it just didn't click.

There was something about him - no, actually, it was something that wasn't there. His humor wasn't dry enough. He was a bit too reserved. He didn't quite get my teasing.

There was just something missing.

The way he smiled didn't do anything for me; no little skip in my chest, no hitch in my breath. His voice didn't send tingles down my spine, the dimple in his cheek was not quite right, he was a bit too hulky -

Something churned a little in my chest, and I almost winced.

Gods, what was wrong with me?

The air behind me shifted, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I had left my mental shields down and either Rhys or Feyre had caught onto my thoughts and had decided to step in before I went down a rabbithole of possibilties of what could be wrong with me.

But then the male in front of me straightened a little, suddenly looking alert, and a familiar scent washed over me, cool and frosty, like pine woods in winter, and something skipped softly against my ribs.

Quickly looking over my shoulder, my eyes moved up, and up, and my shoulders sank a little when they found the face of the male suddenly towering behind me.

Azriel's eyes were piercing, unwavering and unreadable as usual, and they were fixed onto the male in front of me. Shadows were swirling around him, creeping over his wings and shoulders, some gently brushing over my back like a happy greeting.

The shadowsinger's face itself looked like carved from marble, jaw sharp and set, the muscles in his cheeks shifting with what looked strangely like tension.

"Hey." I hoped the relief didn't vibrate too strongly through my voice, quickly turning back towards the male in front of me with an apologetic smile.

I had to give it to him, he had balls: Even though the Spymaster of the Night Court was staring right at him, unsettlingly quiet and brooding, the male hadn't immediately shrunk into himself.

Though he did look very uncomfortable.

"I'm going to -" He pointed over his shoulder, sending me a soft grin, and I smiled back, again hoping the relief wasn't too visible in how bright it was.

One corner of the male's lips curved. Then he turned around, and I felt my shoulders sag.

"Thanks." I breathed out, turning around to send Azriel a relieved, crooked smile.

The shadowsinger's eyes followed after the male for another second before they turned down towards me, and his gaze lost some of that unreadable coolness, softening. His eyes moved over my face, and he seemed to catch onto something, because his gaze narrowed in, and a slight crease formed between his brows.

And because it was Azriel, he didn't even have to ask.

The words just tumbled out before i could stop them.

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Azriel's lips parted a little. Then his eyes sharpened, his shoulders shifting as his gaze moved up over my head, zeroing in on somebody behind me, and something skipped high in my chest at the way his gaze froze over, becoming steely and quietly raging like a rising tide-

Hastily, I widened my eyes.

"No, no; he didn't -", I huffed and breathed out, turning my eyes towards the twinkling night sky in a half-laugh. "It's not because of him, it's - me."

The dangerous promise in Azriel's eyes vanished with a blink, but the light crease between his brows deepend as his gaze returned to my face. The warm lights dotted all over the House of Winds' terraces threw shadows under his jaw and made his amber eyes glow softly, his dark hair tousled and skin rosy from the cool wind.

"It's just -" I exhaled again, furrowing my brows softly at myself.

"There's this male, who's actually not a jerk, and who seems good and funny and interested, and - nothing. Absolutely nothing. I just kept finding things that were wrong, even though I don't even know what would have been right, and -", I shook my head and looked up at Azriel, frowning gently as something churned a little in my chest.

"Is there? Something wrong with me?"

Azriel stared at me before huffing, and something tipped over in my chest when a soft snorted laugh broke from his throat.

I frowned, feeling something tighten a little under my ribs. "What?"

Azriel's lips were still twitching upwards like I had just made some sort of joke only he understood as he turned his face away, shaking his head a little. Then he looked back down at me. His amber eyes moved over me for a moment, and there was something in the way he stared at me that soothed the soft twinge under my ribs.

Azriel blinked, then he said steadily, his low, deep voice gently tickling my spine: "There's nothing wrong with you." His gaze moved over my face, and something I couldn't place shifted in his eyes, tinging his voice when he added: "He just wasn't what you're looking for."

"I don't even know what I'm looking for,", I grumbled under my breath, but there was a soft skip in my chest, that bit of tightness gone when I looked up at Azriel. "How am I supposed to find something when I don't know what it looks like?"

Az blinked again, eyes resting on mine. "You'll know."

I felt my brows furrow gently at the sound of his voice, a little quiet and distant but so, so sure.

Feeling my lips twitch, I raised an eyebrow. "That's sappy."

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched even as he glared down at me, almost like he couldn't hold back the way they curved at the corners. Then he lightly raised a brow. "Mor looks like she's got the next target."

I cursed softly and quickly slid my hand into the crook of his arm, bumping my shoulder into his biceps.

"Come on, let's go, I need a drink."

no. 2: friends talk about their feelings.

“What the fuck was that?”

The door slammed behind me, and I raised my head just in time to see Azriel turn around, his eyes burning into mine so fiercely, I almost held my breath.

Running a hand down my face, I shook my head, my voice tired when I mumbled: “Can we not –“

“I told you to get out, and you didn't listen, you disobeyed orders –“

“Orders?” I stared at him, feeling something begin to bubble in my chest. “You told me to run and fucking leave you!”

“And you didn't!” Azriel´s voice sounded like thunder, not simmering anger, but loud and deep. Shadows gathered around his feet, and his wings flared when he stalked towards me, blood dripping from the wound in his side, but he didn't even seem to notice. “You came back when I told you to leave, you could've died!”

“You would have died!” My voice was incredulous as I stared at him with wide eyes, and Azriel's jaw tightened as he took one last step forward, his chest almost pressing into mine as he glared down at me.

“Then I would have died.” His voice was quiet again and cold, so cold, but his eyes were whirling with emotions I couldn't decipher as they burned into mine. “But you would have been safe.”

Staring up at him, my eyes blown wide, I felt my breathing pick up as I tried to fight against the way my chest grew tighter with every second. Then I exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Azriel blinked like I had slapped him across the face, but it felt like some kind of dam had broken, because the words just started falling, becoming louder with every second.

“I don't give a shit about being safe if it means you try and sacrifice yourself! You asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?! I couldn't just leave you because I will never leave you to sacrifice yourself like your fucking life means nothing, because it does, it means everything!” My voice broke as my voice rose into a scream, and I felt tears well in my eyes as the ache under my ribs grew and I hit my fist against his chest.

“You're hurt, you would have died!! What the hell is wrong with you that you think I could just leave you for death, you moron, what would I be living for if you died, especially because of me; it wouldn't mean a thing!” My vision blurred as tears streamed over my cheeks. Azriel stared at me like he had never seen me before, frozen in place as I heaved with quiet sobs, my whole body trembling as I tried to fight for air.

“Don't you get it? You're –“ My voice broke.

Everything.

Azriel's eyes pierced mine, emotion whirling in them, jumbled, indiscernable. Then he blinked.

“Come here,”, he mumbled, his voice hoarse, and I breathed in shudderingly, tears streaming over my face when his hand closed around my elbow and he pulled me forward, not caring a bit that he was still dripping blood onto the carpet as he dragged me into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” I could feel his low voice vibrating through my body, quiet and rough when he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and buried his nose in my hair, and I hiccuped, feeling tears stream over my face as I slid my own arms around his middle and clung to him.

“Never ask that of me -” My voice broke, and Azriel tightened his grip, the tension not leaving his frame as he slipped his hand up my back to tangle his fingers in my hair, his thumb slowly brushing over my skin when he raised his head a little to press his lips against my temple.

“I'm sorry,”, he mumbled against my skin, soft but hoarse, and I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, my body trembling with silent, heaving sobs as I held onto the male who held me.

no. 3: friends might engage in the occasional amicable teasing.

That was it.

Stopping in the middle of the street only a few feet away from the entrance to Rita's, I barely kept myself from wincing as I leaned forward, trying to balance on one foot as I started unlacing the straps of my high heels. They were murderously high, and, together with the cobblestone streets and the drinks I had, that meant mortal danger for my ankles and my dignity.

Plus, they were beginning to hurt like shi-

I almost lost my balance, feeling myself tip to the side and how my eyes widened. But then a hand slipped under my arm and steadied me, and my breath hitched a little when my gaze darted up.

Azriel raised a brow at me.

“Oh, shut up,”, I grumbled quickly under my breath, trying to ignore the soft skip in my chest at the way his golden eyes were twinkling almost indiscernably as I slipped out of the first heel.

Groaning happily in relief as I rolled my ankle, I carefully placed my foot on the cold ground, trying not to wince at the ache jolting through it when I shifted my weight onto it.

Azriel kept his hand under my arm, his scarred skin warm in the cool night air, even as I balanced a lot easier, undoing the laces of the second heel.

Slipping out of it, I straightened, breathing out and trying not to squirm at the soreness of my feet when I shifted on the cold cobblestone. Then I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly.

Az was still staring down at me, brows drawn together a little as he narrowed his eyes at me.

I frowned back at him suspiciously. “What?”

Azriel huffed, but his lips twitched upwards as he shook his head and stepped forward, and I felt my eyes widen when he leaned down.

“No, wait –“

The shadowsinger slipped his arms under my thighs and lower back, and a soft squeal broke from my lips when he straightened back up, easily sweeping me off my feet.

My hands gripped his back, and my heart jumped into my throat when Azriel hoisted me up a little to adjust his grip, the motion causing me to slide up and down in his arms. I hastily clung to him and stared at him desperately.

“Are you serious?”

Azriel's eyes were twinkling a little when he threw me a look. “You looked like you were going to hobble the way home.”

I huffed, scowling at him, but it probably looked more like a pout, because the shadow of a crease formed in Azriel's cheek. Then he raised a brow at me.

“All set?”

Grumbling softly under my breath, I leaned forward a little to gather my shoes in one hand. Azriel changed his grip to hold me steady, his breath brushing over my temple and causing something to flutter gently against my ribs, and I tried to ignore the sudden dip in my throat.

Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I pressed my forehead against his shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut.

“Alright, ready.”

There was a soft, amused huff that made Azriel's body vibrate. Then he started moving, setting down the street, every long, steady step sending a soft jolt through my body.

I blinked before cracking open an eye and furrowing my brows in confusion.

“We're walking?”

From my position, I saw only one side of Azriel's face as he looked ahead, but there was a curve to his lips that caused something to swerve sharply in my chest when he threw me a look.

“Unless you want to almost throw up again.”

I raised my head quickly to glower at him.

“That was one time."

"I wasn't actually aware anyone could turn that shade of green before you did." One corner of Azriel's lips tipped upwards.

I scowled at him. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

Azriel still looked ahead, but I saw the crease in his cheek deepening.

“Unlikely.”

I scowled, trying to bite back the stupidly wide smile that was suddenly threatening to break out over my face as I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don't like you.”

“I know. You want to hold on any tighter?”

I lightly bonked one of my shoes against the side of his head and earned myself a glare.

Breathing a soft giggle that bubbled in my chest, I exhaled, slowly melting into Azriel's hold as I loosely draped one arm over his collarbones and propped my chin onto his shoulder. Staring at his profile, I felt something flutter softly against my ribs, my heart skipping steadily as my eyes tracked over his straight nose, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the warm light of the lanterns and his soft looking lips.

The shadowsinger threw me a look, and I could see the amusement flashing through in his eyes.

“What?”

I shrugged.

“You're pretty.” I sent him a bright, cheeky smile.

Azriel blinked, and it almost looked like the top of his cheekbones started to darken a little, like the lightest shade of pink dusted his skin –

One corner of my lips slowly quirked as I softly narrowed my eyes.

“Are you blushing?” I started to grin widely. “Azriel, are you –“

The shadowsinger's grip shifted, and I squealed softly when I could feel myself being dropped for nothing more than a heartbeat.

Hastily clinging to his shoulders, I raised my head to glare at Azriel incredulously only to find him smirking, just the tiniest bit.

I huffed, something flutter harshly against my ribs as I scowled at the shadowsinger.

“I really don't like you."

no. 4: friends spend quality time together.

Diving, I avoided a swing of Azriel's wing, sliding over the mats and raising my head.

My heart skipped high, and I barely ducked out of the way, Azriel's wings almost translucent in the light of the sinking sun when he flared them to keep his balance, shadows whirling around him as he dodged a blow, a strand of dark hair falling into his forehead, muscles working under his sweaty, glowing skin -

Something caught against the back of my heel and ripped me off my feet.

My back hit the mats with a thud, and all the air was pressed out of my lungs, causing me to grunt softly. My heart skipped in its race against my ribs, and I relaxed into the mats with a huff, scowling when Azriel appeared above me, lips curving upwards as he squinted down at me, barely out of breath.

"Didn't we just talk about never letting your guard down?"

Huffing, I rolled my eyes, feeling a bead of sweat run over my temple and how my hair stuck to my skin when I just laid flat on the mats for a second before holding out my hand with a grumble.

The second Azriel's fingers closed firmly around my wrist, I pulled, my foot catching against his chest and using his own momentum to send him flying over my head.

The shadowsinger crashed onto his back with a heavy thud and a grunt, and I whirled around, using his hand to pull myself up and onto his torso, thighs clamping down next to his hips and my whole weight pressing down onto his chest as I pinned his wrists onto the mats right above his head and smiled widely.

But my remark along the lines of Right back at you, pretty boy got stuck in my throat.

Azriel's eyes were barely an inch away. I could count the golden spots in his amber iris, and the dark lashes framing them under dark brows between which a little crease sat that smoothed over slowly. And they were staring up at mine. I could feel his breath, warm and a little uneven as it brushed over my skin, could feel the steadiness of his piercing eyes as they stared into mine and how solid his chest was, pressed against mine.

My heart fluttered wildly; I hastily moved back a little, and suddenly, something in Azriel's eyes shifted, his body going still beneath mine.

I needed a second until I realised why; why suddenly, Azriel's gaze burning into mine looked different, why he had tensed and his lips were standing just a little agape. But then I shifted again, and Azriel grunted softly, his hips twitching.

Right under my ass.

My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widened a little, and I grew still, staring down at the male pinned onto the mats who'd completely frozen beneath me as my heart suddenly thumped in my throat and something twinged tightly in my lower stomach.

"Sorry,", I whispered, my voice soft and a little breathy, and a spark flashed through Azriel's eyes.

The next second, I was pushed around, all the air escaping my lungs when I crashed onto my back again, and my heart simply gave out when my body was pressed into the mats, hips lodged between my thighs keeping me down and Azriel's face only an inch away, dark hair falling down onto his forehead as his eyes twinkled and one corner of his lips rose.

"Got you."

I blinked, something pounding and fluttering harshly against my ribs as my breath hitched and I stared up into Azriel's golden amber eyes, his lips curving and fingers loosely wrapped around my wrists, just lightly holding them to the ground next to my head as shadows whispered, slowly swirling around his shoulders. Then Azriel's lips twitched, and his hands slipped away, pressing into the mats as he pushed himself up and his weight disappeared.

I stared up at the soft blue sky high above, the first stars twinkling down at me while my heart was skipping, missing beats in my chest until Azriel offered me a hand, the twinkle still in his eyes causing me to huff.

no. 5: friends are comfortable with each other (but not overly).

Grumbling softly, I buried deeper in the cushions. There was a heavy weight resting on my waist, and something warm pressed into my back, a body, tall and solid, wrapped around me. A familiar scent surrounded me like a blanket, engulfing me and filling my lungs, and something started to flutter softly against my ribs when I tiredly cracked open an eye.

My sight was blurry with sleep as my gaze slowly tracked over the coffee table and the open doors leading into the garden, the sun already sinking and dipping everything in a golden light -

My heart jumped softly when the tall body curved around mine shifted, the arm closed around my waist tightening, and my gaze slowly focused on the hand wrapped around my wrist, laying on the cushion of the couch right in front of my face.

My mind was still tired and foggy with sleep as from under half-closed lids, my gaze dragged over the long, slim fingers, a palm far bigger than my own, veins running up a tanned forearm and the marred skin, scarred tissue rough but warm against my skin.

A soft, tired sound vibrated through my body, the thighs lodged between my calves shifting. Then I felt warm breath brush over my skin, and as I shivered softly, Azriel buried his nose at the back of my neck and grumbled lightly. Something skipped high in my chest at the deepness of the sound, how raspy it was.

There was a soft tap against my mental shields, and with a huff, I let them down.

"Please don't tell me you two are still napping."

Rhys' amused voice vibrating through my head made me grumble softly into the cushions, and from the way Azriel's lips curved upwards as he huffed softly against my neck, sending another shiver down my spine, the same question had sounded through his mind as well.

"Weren't you the one who told me that with less than ten hours of sleep, I get unbearably grumpy?", I thought.

There was a light snicker in my mind. Then Azriel growled softly. I didn't know what Rhys had said to him, but it made his grip tighten as he scowled into my neck.

There was one last chuckle in my head followed by a gentle sensation resembling a friendly headbutt before the familiar presence disappeared, leaving everything quiet again.

Breathing out, I squinted tiredly, the haze of sleep slowly dissipating.

Shifting on the spot, I started to wrestle myself around. Azriel grunted softly when I accidentally kicked his shin, and a breathy, sleepy giggle broke from my throat, then I buried myself in his chest. Exhaling, I felt Azriel slide his arm around my waist, his hand coming up to tuck my head under his chin. His fingers slipped into my hair, scratching gently over my scalp, and I groaned happily, causing the shadowsinger to huff in amusement.

His thumb lightly brushed over my cheek, and something skipped gently against my ribs, fluttering lightly.

no. 6: friends don't stare at each other (for too long).

Moving down the stairs, I slipped my fingers under one of the thin straps of the black silk dress softly swishing around my legs, pulling it up my shoulder. I could feel the hilts of my knives gently press against my thigh where they were tucked into the legs of my boots, the heavy heels thumping softly on the steps and the golden earrings Mor had lent me clinking softly. The heavy black leather coat Cass had gifted me a few years ago was draped over my arm, daggers hidden in the specially constructed lining.

It was time to charme some people. Maybe kick some ass.

Hopefully the latter.

Turning to walk down the last pair of stairs into the entrance hall, I grinned when Feyre tapped against my mind's walls, and when I let her in, her voice echoed through my head.

"Are you ready?"

Ready as ever.

"Alright, we'll be there and pick you up in a second."

Feeling my lips quirk as I sent an enthusiastic mental thumbs up her way and hearing her laugh, I raised my head.

My eyes met amber ones, and my breath hitched a little, my movement faltering for just a second.

Azriel stilled. Went completely quiet, head turned back to look up at me, eyes flickering over me, and his lips parted. Just a bit, nothing more than a little gap as his gaze slowly dragged down and up again, and he blinked, the crease between his brows smoothing over into nothing as he simply - stared.

"What?", I mumbled, feeling my lips curve in a soft, sheepish smile as I moved down the last step.

Azriel blinked again, gaze sliding over me, and something shifted in his eyes, something I couldn't decipher but that made my breath hitch.

My gaze flickered over him, and there was a strange little hop in my chest. He was wearing his fighting leathers, nothing unusual, black shoulderplates making him look even broader, daggers strapped around his lean torso and onto his thighs.

Tearing my eyes away from his chest, I tried to ignore the way my heart performed a double flip when I found Azriel's gaze still pinned onto me, piercing my skin.

The shadowsinger blinked, and his throat worked a little like he was suppressing the urge to swallow. Then he slowly turned and stepped towards me. Wordlessly, he held out a hand, and I needed a second before realising what he wanted.

Huffing at myself and cracking a grin, I handed him my coat, and Azriel unfolded it, holding it open for me to slide into the sleeves. The lining was cool against my skin as Az slipped it over my shoulders, and I barely suppressed a soft shudder when his fingers, still out of his gloves, brushed against my neck, carefully pulling my braid out from under the heavy leather.

Turning around, I straightened the lapels and raised my head, and my heart fluttered up, getting caught on in my throat like my breath when Azriel reached out.

His fingers brushed against my waist as he pushed the coat to the side, and a small crease formed between his brows when his hand ghosted over an empty sheath. He straightened a little, and my lips parted, something suddenly rising in my chest when he pulled a dagger from one of the sheaths strapped to his chest. The silver blade flashed in the warm light when Azriel carefully pulled my coat to the side and slid it into the lining. Then his fingers brushed over the hilts concealed by the black silk, checking every single one of them as my heart thrummed into my throat and I stared up at him, his face a lot closer with his head dipped for a better view of the lining, brows drawn together in concentration, amber eyes clear and focused.

Sliding his hand against my waist to check the other side, Azriel raised his head; his gaze found mine, and my breath hitched when he slowly straightened back up a little.

With a soft swoosh of air, Feyre appeared in the middle of the foyer, and somehow, I managed to tear my gaze away from Azriel's to look over at her. She was wearing a silky dress similiar to mine, dark like the night sky and with high slits very practical for any sort of well-placed kick.

Feyre stilled for just a second when her eyes moved over Azriel, standing so close to me that his chest almost touched mine and yet not making any move to step back, before finding mine, and something like a light twinkle flashed through her iris. Then she blinked and raised her brows. "You two ready?"

Blinking, I looked back up at Az, and my breath hitched.

The shadowsinger was still staring down at me. I wasn't sure he had even looked when Feyre had winnowed in, and he didn't react when Mor appeared next to Feyre either, wearing a dark red dress with a deep neckline. Both of them looked ready to smile charmingly and, if necessary, press a knife to someone's throat, but Azriel didn't even cast them a glance.

His eyes were on me, and suddenly, it felt a little hard to breathe.

Azriel's gaze cleared just a little, and he shifted, shoulders straightening.

"Give me a sign if you need me." I knew his deep voice was directed at the other two as well, but his eyes didn't stray away from mine, waiting until I nodded lightly. Then he took a step back, and shadows swallowed him.

Feyre cleared her throat lightly, and when I looked over at her with a blink, one corner of her lips had curved upwards, her iris twinkling. But she just raised her brows, and Mor held out her hand, her eyes bright as she beamed at me.

Staring at the two of them for a moment in confusion, I then blinked and shook my head lightly, moving towards them. Mor sent me a wink.

"You look hot."

I nodded. "As opposed to how I usually look."

Feyre lightly rolled her eyes and Mor flicked my forehead, and snickering, I took her offered hand.

no. 7: friends don't kiss.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I raised my head, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs when Azriel raised his head.

He was sitting on the edge of my mattress, wearing only soft looking pyjama pants, his hair tousled and a little damp, like he had taken a shower earlier.

Sending him a soft, cheeky grin, I felt my brows furrow gentle. "Hey."

Azriel's eyes tracked down my body, over the large soft sweater and the too big pyjama pants that both had probably belonged to him at some point, and I shifted a little on the spot. Then his gaze turned back towards my face, and one corner of his lips rose into a small, crooked smile.

Slowly starting to walk towards him, I let my gaze flicker over his face, feeling the curious crease between my brows deepen.

"What are you doing here?"

Azriel blinked. His eyes tracked over my face, slow, a little tired but warm in the soft light.

"Just -" He broke off before huffing and shaking his head. "I don't know. Can´t sleep."

I felt my lips curve and sent him a cheeky smile. "I could read something to you."

Azriel's lips curved, and his gaze moved over mine. "I doubt that would help."

"Hey, my reading skills aren't that bad, alright?" I grinned.

Azriel raised his brows, and I lost the fight against the soft giggle building in my throat.

"Oh, shut up."

The shadowsinger's cheek creased a little. He was still staring at me, and I caught something shifting in his eyes as a muscle in his jaw tightened and relaxed again.

Something shifted in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly.

I could feel Azriel freeze a little. One second. Two. Then his shoulders sagged a bit, and his arms slowly slid around my waist, squeezing lightly. It was funny, like this; with him sitting on the edge of the mattress, the size different was reversed for once, me dropping my head to press my nose against his shoulder and Az burying his face at my collarbone.

Holding onto him for another second, I slowly moved back, feeling my lips rise softly. Azriel's arms slipped off my waist, and his muscles shifted when he turned his head. Then he went still, and when I looked up in confusion, my breath hitched.

Golden eyes stared into mine, lips opened just a bit. I could see the shadow of a few freckles on a straight nose, the softness of his lips. And suddenly, my heart was quiet.

The tip of my nose softly nudged against Azriel's, and his eyes fluttered, the muscles in his jaw working as his fingers dug into the cotton of my pants. Then he lightly raised his chin, and his nose brushed past mine again, causing a tingling shiver to travel over my skin, down my spine and into my fingers, making them tremble as I curled them into his shoulders.

I didn't know if I leaned down or Azriel up.

Didn't know if my hand slipping to the back of his neck was first, or his fingers closing around my hips, dragging me forward a little.

All I knew was that his lips were warm and soft and that they were pressed against mine, gentle but soon almost a little feverish.

That his breath was harsh, trembling when he exhaled against my skin.

And that suddenly, my heart wasn't quiet anymore. That it was rising in my chest like a storm, fluttering more violently with every second until breathing was difficult.

Slowly, Azriel broke away, just far enough for his nose to bump against mine again and his unsteady breath to hit my lips. When I forced open my eyes, something flipped against my ribs, because his were still closed, his chest moving quickly as his finger dug into my hips and he swallowed harshly. Then Azriel opened his eyes, and all air I had managed to get left me. Because the gold in his iris was melting together and his lids were heavy and for a moment, he looked a little bit like he wasn't quite there. But then our noses brushed and his lids fluttered and a soft sound broke from his chest that made the world tip over.

"You -" His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, uneven and more hoarse than I had ever heard it, and Azriel's jaw worked, brows drawing together like he was forcing himself to focus as his eyes found mine, something in them that was strange and pleading and burning when he mumbled raspily: "If you let me kiss you again, I won't be able stop."

My heart skipped once and high and harsh. Then I whispered, soft and a little shakily: "I don't think I want you to stop."

Azriel's cheek muscles shifted and he shuddered, like the thought alone -

His fingers dug into my hips, tugging me closer as he pressed his forehead against mine and mumbled roughly: "If you kiss me again -"

I leaned forward and kissed him breathlessly, and Azriel's grip slipped before tightening as a deep rumble built in his throat and he pushed forward and kissed me back like he'd been waiting for centuries.

no. 8: friends never, ever, under no circumstances - well, you can probably guess where this is going.

My breath tumbled when Azriel dragged me closer, closer until my body curved into his sitting one and he kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him afloat, deep and desperate and causing my heart to tip over in my chest when his tongue dragged over mine and his hand slipped under my soft sweater.

A soft shuddering breath left me when his rough fingers ghosted over my back, trailing up my spine, and my fingers curled into his hair, causing a deep sound to rumble through Azriel's body. His other hand closed firmly around my hips, then he pulled back, and my heart skipped into my throat at the sight of his eyes, glazed over and hazy.

Azriel's lips parted just a little and his throat worked when he slid his hand from my back to my front, fingers pushing up the hem of my sweater, up until it was bunched up under my breasts, and my spine turned to jelly when Azriel turned his burning gaze away from my face and dropped his head to press a slow, open-mouthed kiss against my ribs.

My hand flew up to tangle in the soft hair at the back of his head, my eyes fluttering, and Azriel groaned softly, deep in his throat as his hand slipped up to press against my back, pushing me into him until my thighs were pressed against the inside of his and he leaned forward, lips dragging over my skin as he began to trail hot kisses over my stomach.

My head fell back as something rose in my chest, wild and madly fluttering. My lower stomach tightened, quivering, causing my breath to hitch.

It felt like with every kiss, Azriel pulled the floor out from under me, over and over again, the whole world swaying around me whenever he got closer to where my sweater was bunched up under my breasts, my fingers digging into his hair when he dipped down again.

It seemed like he was trying to taste every inch of my skin, breath heavy and uneven, grip tightening around me when his teeth grazed over the skin right under the seam of my bra, and I whimpered.

A small, guttural sound built in Azriel's chest, and he attacked the spot, dragging my body into his, kissing and biting until I could feel my skin pulse. My eyes fluttered as my head tipped back a little and I felt my lips open, and the shadowsinger pressed a scarred hand flat against my spine, running his nose over the bruise like a breathless apology. Then he raised his head, and my heart skipped, tipping over at the sight of his hazy eyes, honeyed iris clouded, lids heavy and soft lips swollen. A strand of dark hair fell into his forehead, and the way he was staring at me caused my breath to stumble, hitch and flutter, his throat working as he swallowed and tugged me forward, slowly pulling me with him as he leaned back, and my heart tipped over in my chest when he dragged me down into his lap.

I could feel Azriel's grip shift, saw the flutter of his lids as my chest pressed into his, and everything under my ribs coiled when his hot, unsteady breath brushed over my lips, his nose softly nudging against mine.

My fingers curled into his shoulders as I tried to breathe, even though it felt impossible with his scent invading my senses, his chest against mine and his arm heavy on my waist as his palm pressed against my back, gently urging me forward.

My hips rolled down, and Azriel's lids fluttered the same second my lips fell open as I felt his hard cock press against me, his hands slipping down to close around my hips, and I almost expected him to push me away, bring distance between us -

Azriel dragged my hips forward, and I inhaled softly, sharply, something hot zipping through my lower stomach and pulsing when I ground down against the bulge in Azriel's pants. His lips were parted just a bit, his breathing harsh as his nose nudged against mine, lids heavy. Then his grip around my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin, and my breath hitched and stumbled when he started guiding my movements, his eyes fixed onto my face like they were burning through me, hazy but piercing.

I barely bit back a soft whimper when Azriel's hot, unsteady breath grazed over my lips, my fingers digging into his hair as I rocked against him, tantalizingly but deliciously slow. Azriel's nose brushed over mine, his hands shifting on my hips, rocking me down harder, and something twisted harshly in my stomach, a wave of heat washing over me.

Before I could stop myself, I pulled him towards me, and Azriel's lips crashed onto mine.

My heart rose into my throat, fluttering as I felt myself twist around nothing, and I whimpered, curling my fingers into the back of Azriel's neck when he kissed me like I was his last breath, devouring, desperate. His tongue slid against mine as his hands slipped under my sweater, curving around my waist, and something swelled in my chest when his rough warm skin pressed against mine, his thumb brushing over my ribs, up against the underside of my breast.

I moaned softly into his mouth, causing his grip to tighten and drag me closer like I wasn't already pressed flush into his chest. His hands closed around the hem of my sweater and pulled it up, up until I had to break away for him to tug it over my head. My arms slipped back over his shoulders, and Azriel leaned forward, into me, kissing me again, deep and hard as he threw my sweater carelessly into the room.

My fingers dug into Azriel's shoulders when his hands slipped under my thighs. Then he lifted me up, turning to place my back on the mattress, his warm, solid body between my legs pushing my knees apart and causing something in my chest to rise and flutter madly, and a soft groan broke from his chest when his body pressed down into mine.

My fingers curled into his hair, and Azriel broke the kiss to drop his head, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair and dragging my head back as he began to press hard kisses against my throat, his heavy, uneven breath hitting my skin as his teeth grazed over my skin. A whimper fled my throat, and my eyes rolled back lightly.

A deep, rough sound rumbled through Azriel´s chest, and his lips brushed lower, kisses growing more deep, more desperate the lower his rough hands slipped on my sides as he slowly made his way down my torso. My body arched into him as he breathed harshly, kissing and nipping at my skin as he pulled down my pants. Then his nose grazed the rim of my panties, and my head fell back as my insides twitched and Azriel groaned deep in his chest.

His hot, harsh breath brushed over the soaked material, and his nose nuzzled against my hip like he was trying to reign himself in, the tension in his shoulders looking unbearable as his lips ghosted over where my thigh and middle met. Then Azriel's fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down, and a soft groan left him, almost desperate.

Raising my hips to help him shimmy the material down my legs, I expected him to move back up my body. But Azriel didn't. His shoulders pushed my thighs apart, and my heart stilled, simply stopped when without hesitation, Azriel sank to his knees.

My breath caught when his hands closed around my hips and dragged me towards him, and a whimpering sound left me when I felt his nose gently nudge against my skin, an ache spreading through my lower stomach like a weight.

My hips bucked, my fingers digging into the sheets, and with a soft rumbling sound leaving him, Azriel pushed one of my legs over his shoulder and dipped his head.

My lips fell open, my heart stilled, and my whole body became weightless when Azriel slowly ran his tongue through my folds. My eyes flew down, finding his, heavily lidded and hazy, a strand of dark hair falling into his face between my legs, and a deep groan rumbled deep in his chest. Then he dropped his head and dove in.

My head fell back against the mattress, and my back arched.

Azriel moved like a male starving devouring his last meal. His warm tongue lapped at me, running over my clit, pressing down and flicking before his mouth closed over it, and my eyes rolled into my head as breathless moans spilled from my lips.

Azriel's fingers dug into the top of my thigh, his other hand slipping up to press onto my stomach as his eyes fluttered and a moan vibrated in his chest. He sounded more enthusiastic than I had ever heard him; like right where he was, settled between my legs, his nose brushing over my skin as he dipped his head to lap and suck at me eagerly, was exactly, precisely where he had always wanted to be –

His tongue flicked over my clit, and my hand flew up to press over my mouth as a loud whimper broke from my lips. But Azriel's fingers slipped around my elbow, and something flipped in my chest, rising and fluttering violently when he gently tugged my hand away from my mouth, his own sliding down my arm until his rough, scarred fingers slid between mine, lacing them together as his eyes pierced my face, clouded and lids heavy like he wasn´t quite there. Then he ran his tongue firmly over my clit, and I moaned, breathily and drawn as I curled my fingers into the sheets above my head.

The weight in my stomach grew slowly, twisting tighter and tighter, and my back arched as a deep groan left Azriel, like what he was doing right now, fingers laced with mine, eyes hazy and hair dishevelled, was the best satisfaction I could give him. The muscles in his cheeks worked as he sucked eagerly on my clit, pressing his tongue against the sensitive spot, eyes never leaving my face even as they fluttered, and I felt my lips part at the sight of him.

My fingers dug into the sheets as I could feel myself pulse around nothing, the pressure in my lower stomach slowly building as whimpers left me and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as whispered curses broke from my lips and my breath heaved, and Azriel's hum vibrated through me. Then his tongue ran over my clit and he sucked, hard, obscene sounds filling the room as he kept pushing and pushing –

The knot in my stomach collapsed and my back arched off the mattress, hips bucking as waves of pleasure crashed over me, my insides twisting and exploding like stars and loud whining sounds breaking from my lips as my eyes rolled back.

I felt Azriel's soft moan more than I heard it, sending vibrations through my body and causing my hand to fly down and dig into his hair. My hips jerked and rolled as my thighs twitched, sharp twinges of pleasure causing my whole body to spasm, but Azriel didn't stop. His tongue lapped at everything he could get, eyes fluttering as another groan rumbled through his body, making me whimper, and he moved, fingers digging into my thigh, keeping it wrapped over his shoulder as he pushed closer, sucking harshly, tongue swirling, and I could feel my stomach twist and turn as another knot built, even tighter and bigger than before.

My mouth fell open, my head pressing into the mattress; Azriel gave a soft sound, maybe an encouragement or a plea, and the world simply slipped away, bursting into a million pieces as the knot exploded, crashing down into a wave so violent, my body shuddered.

My insides tightened, tightened with pleasure so blinding, I couldn't breathe, no sound leaving me as I twitched and writhed, and Azriel kept going, kept sucking my clit into his mouth, tongue pressing against it and flicking over me until my trembling fingers curled deeper into his hair, because it was too much, too good, too much -

My insides twisted, twitching as my knees shook and a breathless whimper left me, and I dug my nails into Azriel's scalp and tugged, tugged harshly until with a soft rumbled growl, the shadowsinger pulled away.

My heart missed a beat, another.

Azriel's pupils were blown, eyes heavily lidded and a little far away when he raised his head, licking his swollen lips. His mouth and chin were glistening as he slid his hands off my thighs, and my breath hitched.

The bed dipped when Azriel pushed himself to his feet to move up my body, his arms pressing down next to my head, his bare chest brushing over mine and his knee pressing into the mattress between my thighs. His nose softly nudged against mine, like a silent question of you alright, and something tipped over in my chest, rising and fluttering.

Quickly, I slipped my hands into his hair and pulled him down, and Azriel groaned softly when I pressed my lips feverishly against his. His body sank into mine when he kissed back, deep and desperate.

My heart skipped against my ribs, and I wrapped a leg over his back, because he still wasn't close enough, not where my middle was pulsing -

The shadowsinger went rigid under my touch when I dragged him down, down until his whole body pressed into mine and I could feel -

Azriel caught my hand, grip tight around my fingers as he breathed heavily, his voice hoarse as he mumbled against my lips: "Are you sure -"

A moan slipped past my lips, soft and pleading as my insides turned, something hot washing over me as I nodded into the kiss, maybe a bit too frantic, too eager, but it didn't matter, not with the groan leaving Azriel's throat, rumbling through his body in what felt like pure relief and desperation.

I tugged at his pants, feeling them slip down his hips and over his legs as Azriel pushed my thighs apart. His lips dragged over mine, then I could feel the tip of his cock nudging against my folds.

My breath gave out, an ache spreading through my body as I whimpered, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he moved in the spot, trying to find an angle with him kneeling on the side of the mattress -

A soft, impatient sound left him; his hands slipped under my backside, and Az lifted me up.

My breath hitched, my arms quickly sliding over his shoulders when Azriel straightened, lips crashing against mine as my chest pressed into his, and I moaned when I could feel him rub up against me as he turned around.

My back hit the wall, and I whimpered, Azriel's tongue dragging over mine as he pushed closer, dragging my thigh up his side as his tip brushed through my folds, way easier like this for him to -

My heart got caught in my throat. My lips fell open, and my heart rose into my throat as I felt myself stretch around Azriel's cock, his hard length pressing at my walls he slowly began to push in.

Azriel dropped his forehead against mine with a strained grunt, his back muscles flexing as my fingers dug into the back of his shoulders, harsh breath hitting my skin as he slowly began to work his way in.

Whimpering softly, I shifted my hips, because he was big and I felt too tight and -

My eyes fluttered, a quiet sound leaving me when my walls closed around him, pulling him in, and Azriel's grip tightened when his hips settled against mine. His hand pressed against the wall over my head he breathed heavily against my lips, nose nudging against mine, and I whimpered, tugging him closer.

A soft groan left Azriel, and his hand slid down to the side of my neck, tilting my head back to kiss me. It was messy and breathless and I whimpered when his tongue slid against mine, his teeth sinking softly into my bottom lip and pulling lightly. His nose nudged against mine, then Azriel slipped his hand down to grip the back of my thigh, pulling it higher up his side, and I felt my lips part when it caused him to slide inside of me.

Azriel pressed his forehead against mine, out of breath as his throat worked, and I curled my fingers into his hair, nodding frantically as my insides tightened, and my head tipped back against the wall when Az slowly pulled out. Then he thrusted back in, and my lips fell open.

Slowly, little by little, Azriel took me apart. His lips dragging over my throat, heavy breaths hitting my skin, hot and ragged, his fingers digging into my thighs as his slow, deep rhythm shook me to my very core. With every thrust, the world seemed to tip a little more, until there was nothing anymore, nothing but him, body rocking mine into the wall, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust. His arm gripped me tighter, then his hand tugged down one strap of my soft bra and his palm closed over my breast, causing a whimper to break from my lips that turned into a moan when Azriel's lips latched onto my nipple, a groan rumbling deep in his throat when he bit and sucked on my skin, rough palm squeezing and tugging at my breast until my insides tightened around him, squeezing as I shuddered and dug my fingers into his hair, dragging him back up, and Azriel moaned hoarsely into my mouth as our lips crashed together. His hips snapped forward, and my hand flew out to grip the mantlepiece as my own rolled down to meet his next thrust.

Azriel's shoulders trembled as his fingers almost slipped off my thighs, and a sound left him that caused my chest to rise when his cock hit a spot so deep inside of me, I lost my breath. Lost my grip, felt my stomach pulse, and Az groaned against my lips when I dug my fingers into his neck and started meeting his hard, slowly quickening thrusts.

My lips fell open, my eyes fluttering as little by little, that familiar tightness began to form in my lower stomach. Only it felt even brighter, hotter and more pulsing than before, with Azriel buried deep inside me, hitting that spot that made my body writhe with every hard snap of his hips. I knew he could feel it too, the way my insides wound tighter with every thrust, fluttering and pulling him in, his grip bruising as he breathed harshly against my neck, deep, hoarse sounds leaving him somewhere halfway between moans and whimpers, and maybe those sounds alone would have done me in. But then his nose dragged up my cheek, and Azriel pressed his forehead against mine as my fingers scratched over his scalp, his ragged breath hitting my lips as his lids fluttered over his eyes that looked like melted amber.

His hand slipped between us, and my breath caught. Simply stopped when Azriel's rough thumb brushed over my clit, slow and hard, and the world fell apart. Became exploding galaxies and stardust as waves of pleasure crashed over me so intensely, I felt my body tremble and shake beyond measure, my eyes rolling back as my sight went blurry, and Azriel's thrusts faltered. His hips snapped once, twice before pushing in deep, then his head fell forward and lips opened soundlessly as his body shuddered.

no. 9: friends don't fall in love with each other.

When I woke up, Azriel was gone.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I quickly sat up, my gaze moving over my clothes haphazardly strewn over the floor, the crinkled sheets and the window behind which, the sky was still a deep black, with galaxies twinkling in the far, far distance.

I couldn't have been asleep for long.

A little bit of pressure built in my throat, a gentle ache forming in my chest, and I quickly slipped off the mattress, picking up my sweater and tugging it over my head as I padded towards the door.

The townhouse was submerged in peaceful silence, the moon shining through the windows onto the stairs the only source of light as I soundlessly moved down the steps.

On the third floor, there was faint light shimmering out from under the door to the library, and my breath got caught in my throat.

Swallowing softly, I carefully opened the door and slipped through. Gently closing it behind me, I started to quietly move past the shelves until I caught movement over at the window, and my heart did a flip against my ribs when I came to a slow halt.

Azriel was with his back to me, slowly wandering from side to side, his bare feet making no sound on the hardwood floors, his shoulders tense, wings shifting and muscles working under his skin as he ran a hands through his hair. Shadows were pooling around his feet, completely quiet for once, just gently brushing against his ankles when he leaned forward, pressing his palms onto the window sill and dropping his head.

Something tightened a little in my chest, and I pulled up my shoulders, whispering softly and a bit hesitantly: "Az?"

Azriel stilled for a moment. Then he looked over his shoulder, and his eyes found mine, amber in the warmth of the fae lights.

I tried to fight against the soft skip in my chest and stared at him.

Azriel blinked before straightening slowly, his deep voice sending rushs of soft tingles down my spine when he mumbled: "Are you okay?"

I nodded, feeling one corner of my lips rise carefully as I fiddled with my sleeve and my eyes flickered back and forth between his.

"You?"

Azriel's gaze wandered over my face as he slowly turned to look at me, eyes moving over mine, almost like he was looking for something. Then he nodded lightly.

Feeling the curve of my lips deepen, I shifted a little on the spot, mumbling softly: "You don't look like it."

Azriel blinked again, and his throat worked a little, something shifting in his jaw. The tightness in my chest grew a little as I stared at him, feeling my throat close up.

I knew that look, knew how it meant he was in his head.

"Th-this doesn't have to change anything." I quickly shook my head, taking a step forward as I stared at him. "We can just forget about it, if you -" My eyes darted over his face, something tightened sharply in my chest, and I blurted hastily: "I'll get over it; I can push it away, I mean I think I have for centuries, I can pretend, and it'll go away, and we'll just -"

I broke off, my eyes darted up, and my heart did one mighty flip.

Because I had just realised what in my hurry to make Azriel's doubt go away had slipped from my lips.

And because Azriel had straightened. His lips parted as his eyes rushed over my face, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow.

Shit.

"What?" Azriel's voice was hoarse as he stared at me, and I nearly winced.

"I don't know;", my voice rose to a panicked, high tone as I widened my eyes and quickly raised my shoulders, "you looked so in your head, and I know we messed up, but I can't lose you, and if you think this was a mistake or you don't like me like that, I -"

The shadowsinger stared at me, and suddenly, his eyes brightened. Started to shine like amber held into the sun, and his shoulders sank like a tension of centuries had flooded from his body. His lips parted a little more as he stared at me, and suddenly, the shadow of a crease formed in his cheek.

"Push what away?"

Something started rising in my chest, fluttering wildly as Azriel's eyes pierced mine and the golden spots in his iris started to dance.

Azriel stared at me. Then he began to slowly walk towards me, iris bright and twinkling. My heart tipped and tilted, and I swallowed, my gaze darting around the room.

Rough fingers gently closed around my chin, and my breath got caught in my throat, simply stopping when Azriel mumbled: "No, no, come on, sweetheart." His thumb and forefinger gently forced me to look up, up until I met his bright eyes flickering over my face, his deep voice tickling my spine and something shifting through his gaze, careful, anxious, when he said softly: "Push what away?"

I felt my lips open, my heart pounding harshly against my ribs, and my brows arched on their own accord.

"Oh, come on; really?" My voice rose desperately, and in any other situation, it would have been hilarious.

"What do you want to hear; that kissing you made the fucking world stop? That you probably ruined me for every godsdamned male out there, because there's no way anyone could ever make me feel that way again? That I was too stupid to realise I've fallen for my best friend like a complete idiot, even though you make my heart beat out of my chest everytime you just look at me? That you're everything? Tha-"

Azriel leaned down, and the world tipped off its axis when he kissed me, his hand slipping to the nape of my neck to tug me closer, fingers tangling in my hair. Then he started to smile against my lips, slow and wide, and my breath caught when he dipped forward and kissed me deeper.

Digging my fingers into his sides, I tried to keep my heart from fluttering out of my chest as something rose so violently under my ribs, a soft sound broke from my throat when Azriel's tongue slid against mine, and a slightly shaking exhale left him.

Gently brushing his thumbs over the side of my neck, Azriel slowly pulled away, his nose nudging against mine when he mumbled roughly against my lips: "If it makes you feel any better, you definitely ruined me for everyone I'll ever meet."

A trembling breath left me, and I pulled my head back to stare up at Azriel, that flutter in my chest growing when I saw the light in his eyes when he stared back down at me.

"You -" My voice gave out, and one corner of Azriel's lips quirked a little.

"I?" His voice was a little hoarse as his eyes tracked over mine, and he swallowed softly. "Am in love with you."

My breath caught in my throat.

Azriel's eyes moved over my face, and I could feel a gentle exhale leaving him as his hands pulled me closer until I gently bumped into his chest and he dropped his head, staring at me, looking like he was trying not to swallow as he mumbled lowly: "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. And I'll probably still love you when we're nothing but dust under the sky. The only reason I didn't tell you sooner was that I was scared to lose you if you didn't feel the same."

I breathed out and closed my eyes as my heart rose in a wild flutter and a warm thrum built in my chest as my lips started to curve into a ridiculously wide, desperate smile. "We're so stupid."

I felt Azriel's soft huff more than I heard it. Then his breath brushed over my face, and the next second, his hands slipped under the underside of my thighs and lifted me up.

My legs locked around his waist like instinct, my breath hitching as I held onto his shoulders, and my heart skipped when my nose almost bumped into Azriel's, his eyes bright as he stared at me.

"Remember when you asked me how you're supposed to know what you're looking for and I said you just know?" His low, deep voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed and somehow managed a nod.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, then he dropped his head, and my breath caught in my throat, my eyes fluttering close when he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I was thinking of you." Azriel's quiet voice vibrated over my skin. "Because you became all I ever wanted, all I could see when I realised you were what I had been looking for my whole life."

My fingers curled into his hair, and a soft sound left Azriel's lips the same moment my heart rose into my throat.

"Sappy,", I whispered, my voice breaking a little, and Azriel chuckled against my lips before he pulled back, and something tipped over in my chest at the way he stared at me.

I blinked before looking down at his arms holding me up, chest pressing into mine, and something rose under my ribs.

"Now what?"

Azriel's lips curved, and my heart stumbled and skipped at the way his golden eyes twinkled when he raised a brow.

"Now I'll take you back upstairs and we'll do some more things that will ruin just thinking about anybody else."

no. 10 - the golden rule: friends make their own rules.

(and occasionally realize they aren't friends at all and they're idiots.)

@waytoomanyteenagefeels @ailyr92

#azriel #az #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel/reader #az x reader #az imagine #az/reader #acotar x reader #acowar #acotar #acomaf #lalacliffthorne

[obliviouscxnt]

His Shadow pt.2 Azriel x Reader

a/n: all the feedback from the last fic is insane! I can’t even express the joy all of the comments bring me, the kind words mean so much!!! I'm so happy this concept is liked, I definitely want to explore more with it:)) I hope you enjoy!! <333

1.8k words

synopsis: azriel makes a deal with himself to get his shadows back

Warnings: angst, fluff

pt.1

He’d gotten so used to you being there, so comfortable with the shadows that always surrounded him. 

Now that they were gone—now that you were gone—he was left with an inescapable feeling. Loss. 

It felt like lead in his body. It twisted, and turned, weighing itself down on his ribs. Aching at every little thing he began to notice, the little things you did for him. The things he’d taken for granted. 

He missed the way your darkness covered him like a protective blanket. Missed the ease it brought him. Without it, he felt bare. 

He missed your voice, your whispers. If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough he could almost hear it. Almost. He’d never taken the time to memorize it. Never took the time to see beyond what was on the surface. Why hadn’t he? 

How did he disregard you?

You, the first to show him compassion, apart from his own mother. You, who suffered with him in that cold keep, locked away. Unable to grow, to learn, to live. 

You were there for him, with him. 

How could he have overlooked you?

He holds on to your words, the idea that you would answer if he called brought him only a fraction of the comfort you gave him daily. 

You weren’t really gone, he kept telling himself. He’d see you again. 

When it was necessary. 

No longer would you whisper a good morning to him when he woke, or a goodnight when he slept. No longer would you be there, just to be with him. Just to rest on his shoulders, or weave between his fingers. 

He’d used you, like a tool. Like you were just another weapon in his arsenal. 

The pain in his chest swelled, twinging as the image of misery on your breathtaking face invaded his mind. The awful things he’d said, the hateful accusation he’d made. 

You cared so greatly for him, for so long, only to receive cruelty in return. 

How had he ever thought your absence poetic? 

Being away from him was a physical struggle. The need to be there for him, to comfort him, to apologize, and to express your faith in him was undying. You were surprised you’d lasted a full day. 

No matter how he treated you, no matter how much it hurt, he’d always be everything. 

Yet you kept hearing his words. ‘Are you jealous? Is that it?’ Kept seeing that angry glare he’d aimed at you, and how it melted away when you’d taken form. ‘Because I don’t give you enough attention?’

You kept remembering the change in his eyes, in the way he looked at you. Like he’d just then realized you had a mind of your own, that he didn’t have to think for you. 

You’d thought it would make you happy. To have him really see you. 

It didn’t. 

You felt anger and sorrow. Angry you practically had to spell it out for him. Angry the most observant person in the Night Court, if not all of Prythian, had never spared you a second glance. Sad that you had to look like him to get his attention. 

You'd given him every opportunity, you'd shown him your capacity for emotions countless times. He ignored it every single time. No, ignore wasn't right.

Ignorant.

Ignorant was the better word.

Perhaps it was your fault for expecting more of him. 

In the beginning, his neglect hadn’t even mattered. You didn't realize he treated you any differently. That is until you saw him interact with Rhys and Cassian, and then eventually Mor and Amren. 

With them, he was… still distant, closed off in a way. But he smiled, he laughed, he joked. He empathized with them, got angry for them, or sad, or happy. He loved them.

With you, it was just, find me this… bring me here…  go listen to them… keep me hidden… 

He never smiled at you. 

It was your own fault for expecting him to think of you as anything other than a servant. 

That’s what you are, right?

The need to grovel at his feet came back. You felt ridiculous. You lived to serve him. Without him you wouldn’t even have a life. 

You were such a fool, living darkness throwing a fit over some hurt feelings.

He was the only reason you were able to feel anything at all. He gave you meaning. He was your purpose in life, not the other way around. He had no obligation to you, he didn't even have to call on you. The fact that he did was a gift in itself. Just like the pain you felt was a gift.

Without him, you’d just be a regular shadow. 

That should be enough for you. 

So when you heard his call, when you felt that irresistible tug on your soul, you answered. 

You answered though you knew he had no reason for it. He wasn’t in danger, he didn’t want to go anywhere, didn’t need you to spy on anyone or find anything, he was just calling you. 

You answered because no matter what you said, no matter how you felt, he would always be everything. 

Azriel waits for you. Standing in the center of his room, shifting his balance from his right leg to his left. 

He couldn’t keep his hands still, they ran through his hair, adjusted his shirt, got stuffed in his pockets only to leave them a moment later and rub at his neck. His arms cross in an effort to keep them still. 

He was anxious, and restless, and nervous about messing up, but most of all he was angry at himself. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if you ignored his call, even though you said you couldn’t. You’d probably found a way, after all he’s done he wouldn’t blame you. 

It would hurt like hell, but he’d understand. Why would you bother giving him a second chance? 

He’d never even asked you for a name. 

Did you even have one? Do shadows need names? They obviously have a language, one he was able to speak and understand. Did you have a family? A people? Were you born or did you just appear one day? 

These were all things he should’ve known already. Things he should’ve had the mind to be curious about. 

He was too focused on himself and everyone else.

The lights dim, announcing your presence. 

His arms uncross, falling at his sides. You really came. 

Swirls of darkness slip into his room, slowly inching toward him. The way they move is lethargic. It makes him sick.

He speaks when you make it within a foot of him. Pushing past the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

The shadows stop. Gone was the mighty spymaster. All that remained was the boy who cried out to you on that cold night several centuries ago.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “You don’t have to accept my apology. I don't want you to. I know I haven’t earned it. I just want you to know that If I could go back and change everything I would.” The words were nothing but the truth. He wished more than anything to go back and treat you right. To erase all the hurt he put you through.

His heart jumps when you continue toward him, slithering up his body, encasing him in your energy. 

He feels you curl around his ear, and then he hears your voice. That airy tone reverberating through his head. A sound only he could hear. Only he could appreciate. One he hadn't until he knew what it was like to lose it. 

“I forgive you.”  

Azriel wanted to weep at those words. For you. For him. For what he’d done to the two of you. For what the two of you could’ve been if he’d just sacrificed a little of his time to be with you. Like you always had for him.

“No, you don’t,” He began, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” 

The lights flicker, once, twice, then he feels it. Your hand.

His gaze trails down to watch your smokey fingers lace with his. The feeling of your skin touching his had his heart racing for other reasons. Very different from the chill of your shadows.

He lets his hand curl around your own. Squeezing as he went on, hoping you could hear and feel every last drop of his sincerity. “I could apologize to you every day for the rest of our eternal lives and I still wouldn’t deserve it.” 

You step in front of him, meeting his stare. The emotion it held stitched something back together inside of you, something that'd gotten torn apart years ago.

“I will do everything in my power to change that. I promise.” His thumb rubs circles on your hand. “I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am worthy of you. That you chose right.”  He felt his body tingle with each word, the sensation traveling down his arms, his chest, and his back. Ink undoubtedly marking his skin with a visual reminder of the deal he’d just made with himself.

To strive to one day earn your forgiveness. Your loyalty. 

You reach out a hand resting it on his face, so faintly it barely even touched him. Afraid you were overstepping.

He leans into it, covering it with his own, holding it there.

Your mind drifts back to when you met him.

His small voice, crying out for anyone. 

The strength of the Gods couldn’t have kept you from him.  

You didn’t choose wrong. You knew that. It didn't matter if he believed it or not.

“I swear it.” He vows, bringing you back to the present. His hazel eyes so intense, so sure, burning into your own. You couldn't help yourself.  

You kissed him. 

His lips connect with yours and everything stops. Everything fades away until it’s just you and him.  

He knew he’d never stop chasing the feeling it gave him. Something so simple, so easy, like breathing or gravity. Something he couldn’t live without. Not now that he’d had a taste. 

One of his hands land on your waist, pulling you closer. The other leaves your hand to find purchase on the back of your neck, angling your head to deepen the kiss. 

It was euphoric, he wanted to get lost in it, in you. 

You pull away when his tongue brushes over your bottom lip, needing a moment to breathe.

Your eyes remain shut for a moment, stuck in that feeling. When you finally pry them open you study his face, taking in every detail, committing every single bit to memory. 

He's breathing heavily, scanning you with a hunger you’ve never seen before. Eyes darting all over your face, repeatedly drifting back to your lips as if he too was struggling with restraint. 

Then he smiles. Pure elation on his beautiful face. 

The sight was divine. 

You copied the action, smiling wide. You didn’t care if it looked or felt unnatural. You were just happy. 

Happy to be his shadow. 

taglist <33: @sidthedollface2 @mischiefmanagers @theravenphoenix26 @leeknows-wife @fxckmiup

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x shadow!reader #azriel fanfic

[fever-fluff]

Cat's Out of the Bag, Claws and All

Synopsis: You’re sick of Cassian and Rhysand sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong. And Azriel’s tendency to let things slide when it comes to himself isn’t helping. Word Count: 4k (not proof read)

“I just think you’re becoming a bit…”

“A bit what, Cass?” Azriel was not in the mood for this. Sitting in Rita’s, in a booth right to the back while his two brothers pestered him on his love life was not how he wanted to spend the night after he’d returned to Velaris. You had been absent from his bed when he’d finally made it back in the early hours of the morning. Though he wasn’t worried. You had duties to attend to for Rhys as one of his foreign relations advisors, normally starting as soon as you woke in order to enjoy your evenings free of work to spend with him- even if he was the one still doing paperwork.

“Don’t you think she’s a bit too… extreme?” Azriel snarled at Cass’ blatant insult to you. But he held his hands up in peace, Rhys cutting in before he could do more damage. “What we’re trying to say, Azriel, is that it seems like you aren’t yourself lately. You’ve been showing up more recently, which is not a bad thing and we’re happy to see more of you. But it’s the reason of these increased showings that has us worried.”

Azriel supposed it was true. He had been showing up more – to social events that is. He was always present when it was just their inner circle, but the regular accepting of invitations to social events that didn’t need his presence was a new thing, something that you had gently insisted on since the two of you had become so close.

He was never one for meaningless interactions and had been pushing himself outside of his comfort zone for quite some time now by giving in every time you looked at him, pleading with those eyes of yours. He could never quite say no when you asked, and begged him, so nicely. But he nodded all the same to the two that he understood what they were trying to say, “I guess. I honestly didn’t think it was such a big deal. It makes her happy.”

“That’s the thing Az. Sure, it makes her happy. But does it make you?” Cass was trying, really trying not to say the wrong words and have this blow up in his face. Azriel thought for a moment, of all the times he’d watch you interact with others he didn’t even know the name of, never mind their importance to your work, while you linked your arm around his and had him trail along. He was always uncomfortable in the light, always wanting to slink back to the shadows. But you were the opposite, always blooming so lovely in the presence of everyone you deigned to offer your time to. He sometimes wished he could coddle you away from all their adoring eyes and have you all to himself. But he would never cage you like that.

“Not particularly. I do it for her, but sometimes I would rather sit at home while she goes about her work.” His admission was quiet, feeling that if he said it too loud it would carry on the wind and into your ear as you slept.

“What we’re trying to say, brother, is that spending your life with someone is all about compromise. You need to tell her when you don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” Since when has Cassian ever been so wise and all-knowing? He’d bet five gold marks Nesta had whipped that piece of sense into him after he’d thrown another of her books out the window, insisting on ‘a lovely stroll through Velaris’ instead. Azriel knew he was just jealous of the new male protagonist in her recent book series, garnering all her attention throughout the day.

But Cassian’s words had stuck in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Had he been compromising on his comfort for your own? You’d never pressed the issue with him, but he supposed he’d not put much of a front up against it in the past, agreeing almost immediately every time you’d asked for his company.

“You know I respect her and the work she does” Rhys had ordered another round as they settled in for the night of drinking ahead, “she’s one of the best at her job that I’ve ever seen, placating Eris is a testament to that. But she is intense, she has to be. I don’t want that to jeopardise you or your happiness with her in any way in the future. Putting up boundaries with her now is the best way to do that.”

Azriel knew his brothers had always had his best interest in their hearts when it came to things like this. Rhys’ intervention between him and Elain on Solstice years ago was a testament to that. He would have been hurt in a way he would never have come back from. Elain and Lucien’s bond was one of the strongest he’d ever seen – even rivalling that of Rhys and Feyre’s once given the chance. Then he’d met you. You had courted him from the minute you’d met, and he’d preened under the attention he’d longer centuries for. You weren’t his mate; no bond had snapped for him in the time he’d gotten to know you. But he’d worked past that and found that someone choosing to be with him purely of their own volition made it much harder to doubt whether he was worthy of you or not.

So, as they drank on, Azriel let their words mill over in his mind, finally agreeing with their concerns, and decided tomorrow he’d tell you how he really felt about all the parties you were asking him to attend.

Waking up to a hungover Azriel was a rare sight, but an amusing one none the less. You’d gone to bed last night early after reading a note he’d left, saying Rhys and Cass had asked him to drinks to catch up after being away for three months. You were upset, naturally, as you hadn’t seen him either during that time. But Azriel was a people pleaser, and he’d accepted their invitation with no qualms. So instead of wallowing in self-pity of not spending the first night with him back falling asleep in his arms, you had invited Mor and Feyre over to take your mind off it.

They’d left soon after midnight, Feyre wanting to get back to Nyx seeing as his father would be away most of the night. But all those sour feelings had left the second you’d awoken curled into his strong, tanned arms this morning.

Trying to shift in his hold, you’d felt him curl further into you with a groan, wing casting over the two of you to block the ray of sun peering in between the curtains. You laughed, sending a small gush of magic to pull it closed, cutting the bright light off. His hum of appreciation vibrated against your neck while you reached to play with the tresses of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. It was getting long again – which you preferred on him – but he’d cut it soon now that he was home.

“Good morning, love” you’d never tire of the purr the name elicited from the Illyrian warrior beside you, and it rumbled lowly as he reached into your touches further. “How were drinks with Cass and Rhys?”

“Long. Too long. Wanted to come home to you.” his voice, gods his voice. You loved it, the deep tones in the morning unlike anything else you’d ever heard.

“Yeah? I should have realised I’d need to rescue you, nab you back to have you all to myself.” One thing you’d realised in pursuing the Shadowsinger was his need for directness. His heart had been torn so many times that it wouldn’t beat for anything else. And you’d been more than happy to provide.

The morning was slow, full of sweetness and adoration you’d both been missing in his absence. Neither of you had been pressed to rise before noon until your stomach had grumbled its dislike of the lack of food. And so, you’d found yourselves sat at the small table in front of the windows overlooking Velaris, coffee and pastries in hand.

Azriel had woken from his drunken haze, and appeared caught in his own world, more so than usual as you noticed him missing the handle of his mug, for the second time. “Something on your mind, my love.”

His sigh was enough to know you wouldn’t like what he had to say, and your mind wandered to unpleasant thoughts of Rhys already assigning him to another mission far from home. “I swear on all that is good if that High Lord of yours assigned something else to you last nigh-”

“He hasn’t. And don’t forget he’s your High Lord also.” Azriel hated when you spoke against any decisions made by his family, which was rare. You were on the same page as them, mostly. But there were some things you disagreed strongly on. Not always living in Velaris had given you another taste of the world, and it faired well for you in your work here. But there were times when it caused temporary rifts between you and your friends, and you weren’t inclined to change if it could be solved with words instead of blades. But when it involved Azriel, you found yourself more and more inclined to picking up something sharp and slicing it into anything that wanted to steal him from you.

“We were… talking. Last night. About a couple things.” Azriel was not as sweet with words as his brother, but to see him lose them completely was new altogether. Putting the pieces together from the non-existent puzzle he’d left for you, you felt your breath hitch slightly, “About us?”

“Yeah…” you didn’t like this Azriel. The unsure and unconfident kind. He had a silent strength you’d admired since the first time you’d met. You’d fallen in love with the male that wasn’t this, and you hated seeing him act like anything lesser than he was.

“Azriel. Whatever it is, please speak to me about it. I want to know.” You’d moved from your chair, coming to sit on the side of his as you laid your hand next to his, letting him decide whether or not he wanted to take it. But the warmth that encased yours was comfort enough to know it wasn’t something that would break the two of you.  

“I – don’t want to go to the – social events anymore.” Your brows pinched in confusion, where was this coming from? “Care to tell me why?”

“I’m not a fan of them. At all really. And I realised I was doing something that wasn’t making me happy. It made you happy, which I’m glad, but I can’t do it anymore. S’ too much.”

You watched Azriel retreat into himself at the admission, but you said nothing as you saw his gaze flicker over the room until it finally landed on you, searching for any anger, or hurt. “If you think I’m angry, I’m not. I understand what you mean, and I’m glad you could tell me.”

“You are?”

You huffed a laugh, “Yea, I am. So long as they’re your thoughts and not your brothers, right?” he nodded, “They are.”

“Okay, no more unnecessary social outings, for you at least. I’ll still have to attend them, considering.” He nodded again, “of course, I wouldn’t assume otherwise.”

You kissed him lightly as you made to get ready for the day, the conversation ending quicker then it began. These mornings were all you really had alone with him, both your professions taking up the rest of your days and swallowing the majority of the daylight- and twilight.

He’d winnowed soon after from the garden after kissing you goodbye, seeming lighter now that he’d voiced his discomfort, and you released a sigh you’d been holding since.

There was a party in three days, one you’d assumed Azriel would attend with you. But now that he’d expressed his feelings about them, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Instead, you’d prepare yourself for the emotional and verbal onslaught to come without the Shadowsinger by your side.

You hated these things. Really, really hated them. being in a room full of fae looking to raise their status, their family name in the long list of nobles was always a tiring feet to be around, but it was a necessary evil to your work. Mor stood beside you in all her ethereal glory, and the pair of you looked nothing more than astounding. Emerie was somewhere in the crowd of people, charming her way through each table she rounded. You were sometimes envious of the support she lends to Mor at these times, the two made a good pair in these places, balancing the other out that lead to progress you would only dream of making in such short time.

But it seemed tonight all you would find for yourself was concealed and blatant admissions of fae asking about your seemingly juicy availability.

“Ladies, it’s an honour to have received an invitation to such a grand celebration, pray tell” the male who’d sauntered his way over to the two of you leered in you direction, “has the lovely lady finally been freed from her cage? Should I thank the Shadowsinger for his decision to set you free from you confines that is the Court of Nightmares?” You blanched at his obvious attempt but concealed it under a smile too easy that it felt tight, “I believe you’ve been fed the wrong fruit from the vine my lord, Azriel and I are still quite the pair. I do hope you don’t mean to sully his name when he is not here to defend himself?” your sinister pout had the blood leeching from the males cheeks, and he stuttered himself into a stupor until he could find his feet to walk quickly away.

Sighing, you grabbed a fresh glass of wine, the last going sour from the interaction. Mor’s head leaned to yours unceremoniously, “Mother, that’s the fifth one in the last hour! How often does this happen?”

“Any time Azriel isn’t with me. When he’s accompanied me in the past it stopped a lot of this for the most part. But with my reputation among the courts here and abroad, anyone will try to get their claws into the person holding the most honey pots.” You were feeling the effect of it much sooner than ever before, the mental strain making your mind lag. You’d really hoped Azriel would have been here tonight, but you couldn’t lean on his strength every time.

“That’s why you’ve been bringing him along…” something seemed to click with her. “You know he hates these things. But you wanted him here for support, for you.” You nodded without hesitation, confused as to why her face seemed so stricken by the knowledge.

“There’s something I have to tell you” Mor’s tone was sullen. As she explained, you listened and felt anger wash over you in gulfs. Oh, you were going to murder someone, and soon.

The following weeks after Azriel had admitted his feelings to you were…odd, to say the least. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. you had been the same as ever to him, loving and oh so understanding when it came to his every need. You didn’t press him to attend the gatherings you had to, opting to inform him instead of your departure. While you were gone, he would catch up on all the paperwork he had waiting, and by the time you came home, his arms would be open and waiting for you to fall into.

But something was still off. He felt it in the way your shoulders slumped more than they usually would after socialising all night. It was still taxing to you, but you had always smiled after when he had attended them with you. Now, you barely had enough energy to lift yourself from his hold, falling straight to sleep once he’d guided you to bed.

Those nights, when you’re too tired to tell him about your day, and instead just curl up against his side, Azriel thinks about the moments of when you’d first met.

Your connection to him was almost instantaneous, you’d follow him everywhere you could. The idle chatter you started with had eventually turned to long and deep conversations, sweeping him along into the early hours of the morning.

Your first kiss, when you’d found him after a more draining mission. You’d helped him bathe, nursing the tension from his back and mind with loving but firm touches to his skin. He’d turned to you in a burst of confidence and captured your mouth with his before he had anytime to think himself out of it. You’d melted into him almost instantly, and the rest had been a blur of tangled limbs and sheets.

The weeks after had been full of secret touches and longing looks, until Cassian had caught the two of you in a heated kiss after venturing to the kitchen for some late night tea. Always the one known for having loose lips, the whole house had known before Azriel could’ve knocked him unconscious, but you had laughed and squeezed his hand in reassurance, letting him know that you didn’t mind being claimed by him, if he were okay with you claiming him. No, he didn’t mind that at all.

Gods, he had been in heaven ever since. Having someone to come home to, to reach for in the long family dinner when before he had to watch the mated couples around him stare adoringly at one another. He now had someone to call his own, and he was so glad it was you.

But you seemed to be getting worse as the weeks rolled on, and he couldn’t quite understand why, until Rhysand pulled him into his office.

“She’s taking a leave of absence from her position.” Azriel’s world spun on the wrong axis as he processed the words coming from his brother’s mouth.

“She hasn’t spoken to you about this?” he shook his head, mind spiralling as to why you’d do something like this. You loved your job, more than anything. It gave you a purpose, something to give back to the world.

Cassian ventured in not long after, seeming to already know what was going on, “you’re not communicating again. Azriel, this is gonna really affect your-”

“Affect his what, Cassian?”

The three of the bristled at the sharpness of your tone. Azriel cast his gaze over you. Your eyes seemed darkened by a tiredness that hadn’t been there until a few weeks ago. Even your posture, always one to hold your head high, looked slumped against Mor and Feyre, who stood behind you.

“I was just saying that you both should talk a bit more about-”

“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of comments on what me and my mate should talk about.”

Azriel stopped.

Everything stopped.

Your- your what?

You sighed, your admission seeming to go amiss amongst the thoughts swirling in you mind, but Azriel couldn’t comprehend how you’d said something like that so…so… casually.

“Azriel, Can I speak to Rhysand and Cassian – alone?” he didn’t feel himself answer, but Mor and Feyre seemed to understand and guided him into the hallway, where the three of them waited with baited breath to hear the onslaught you’d ensue. It wasn’t a secret, how much you detested some of the decisions they made in this court. Hels, you had even come to Eris’ defense more than once during the time of the alliance to put him on the Autumn throne. But this was different, and he knew it deep in his bones.

Mate. You’d called him your mate. But there was no bond. Nothing had snapped in all the time you had known each other. He loved you, infinitely. but that had been a choice you had both made in all that you had gone through, not for some fate woven between you.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in” it was Feyre, “I think we should sit down, get some tea while we wait until they’re finished.”  

So the three of them walked away from the voices on the other side of the door, and made for Feyre’s studio.

“You two need to butt out, now.” You were fuming, white hot rage consumed you as you looked to the grown males in front of you. But they weren’t acting like that, not in all the time you’d known them.

“You-you called Az your mate?”

Shit. Had you? Oh gods he was probably going insane with the thoughts in his head. No wonder he hadn’t answered you. How were you going to explain hiding something so profound from him for as long as you’d known each other.

“What of it.” you were snapping now. You don’t ever snap. That was your charm, ever the collected one, no matter what. But gods they had stuck their noses where it didn’t belong. And you detested it.

 The statement had seemed to shut the two of the up quite quickly, so you continued, happy for the lack of interruption. “I understand you’re looking out for Az; I do. But this is getting to the point where it’s ridiculous. Have you ever considered the weight in which Az holds your words? They’re like gospel to him.”

“We were just trying to help, nothing more.” You snorted as the High Lord’s words. Feyre and Mor have known of your secret since you met Azriel, but it seemed the two of them have truly kept it privy to your circle of three.

“Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong does more damage than good?” you were breaking now, the emotions you had welled up the past while cresting. “I wasn’t asking Azriel to those gatherings because I wanted him out of his comfort zone. Gods, I know he detests them.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I needed him. It’s not easy listening to fae ask about your hand in marriage while your mate sits happily at home.”

You took a breath as the two said nothing more. “I came here to tell you that my leave was because I was overwhelmed. It’s a lot sometimes, even for me. And I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Az without interruption since we met. I was going to tell you both today, about… the predicament. But it seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag, claws and all.”

Gods, how were you going to explain this to him? You’ve kept him in the dark for months. He’ll never forgive you.

“We-acknowledge our misstep. We truly didn’t mean to hurt you, or Azriel. And for that I apologise, for us both.” Rhys’ face was sullen enough for your anger towards the two wash away, and you nodded. “Believe me, you’re not the one who’s hurt him.”

With nothing else to say, you made for the door. Cassian’s voice stopping you just as you reached for the handle, “Just, make sure you get him to listen. He’ll go into his head, and its not a good place.”

You nodded.

 “I know.”

There will be a Part II

#acotar #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel acotar #mor acotar #fem reader #azriel x female!reader #feyre archeron

[azrielsdove]

Cold Hearts Pt. 2

Warnings: Some graphic violence, angst

Pt. 1 Here | Pt. 3 Here

***

You cried until the sun set that night. You knew you hadn’t been that nice to the Shadowsinger, but you didn’t think you had given him such a poor impression. You never imagined that he would ever say anything to you like he did tonight.

The worst of it all was that he was right.

You were cold to everyone, never really letting anyone get that close. Feyre had gotten the closest, but you backed off as she started falling for Rhys, letting her work through her feelings.

Rhys. Your greatest friend. Even he had distanced himself from you, distracted with his beautiful High Lady. You couldn’t blame him, you knew he deserved a love like that. After all he had gone through, the least you could do was give him time with her.

Azriel had clocked your jealousy.

Yet it wasn’t in the way he thought. There was never anything romantic between you and Rhysand. He saved your life, and you were forever grateful to him. You were jealous in the same way you were jealous of Cassian and Nesta. Of Amren and Varian.

They had love.

Something you knew would never be yours. Not after what happened the last time you thought you found it. You felt the pain as if it had happened just yesterday, the trauma of it all still fresh.

You weren’t supposed to be out here. You were very aware of just how bad it would be for you if you got caught. You couldn’t help the draw to learn, though. You wanted to be strong, powerful, brave. You watched the Illyrian soldiers train all day in between your chores, amazed at how deadly they were. You wanted to be like them.

So you began sneaking off, late into the night. You would go to the edge of the wood, practicing the moves you had seen them do. For the first time in your life you felt in control. You felt like you could be more than a docile little Illyrian wife.

You had been lucky, your wings had not been cut. Your father wasn’t a kind man, but he didn’t think they should be cut unless there was reason. If you were trying to run away, or train….well. You made sure he would never know. You were very careful.

Then you met Gannon. He was dark and handsome. He was kind to you. You fell fast, and you fell hard. He told you he was going to ask your father to take you as his bride, and for the first time you saw yourself as the perfect Illyrian wife. With Gannon by your side, you thought you would live a happier life than most. He had never said anything about you still having your wings, allowing them to exist as you did.

You decided to trust him with your secret. You brought him into your little corner of the wood, showing the makeshift weapons and little training ring you had created over the last couple years. You turned to him with a broad smile, hopeful for his reaction. He had wrapped you in his arms and swung you around, laughing. “My little Illyrian soldier!” He had said, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

You were truly happy.

Or so you thought. A few nights had gone by since you showed Gannon your training area, and he had agreed to meet you tonight to help you further. You could hardly feign sleep, excitement bubbling in the tips of your toes. Once you were certain your parents were out for the night, you crept out of your house and ran to the wood. You burst into your training area, spotting Gannon right away. He opened his arms for you and you ran right into them, wrapping yours around him.

This was bliss.

Then you felt the blade, slicing up through the base of your exposed wings. You cried out, Gannon holding you to him tighter. “Hush now, my little Illyrian soldier.” He whispered, the words not nearly as sweet as they had been a few days prior. You heard a cold laugh from behind you, realizing you weren’t alone. The other male shoved a piece of leather into your mouth, muffling your screams as Gannon severed your wings.

He moved slowly. So, so slowly. You felt every millimeter of your wings rip away from you. You realized the other male with you was your father. “You were told only well behaved females got to keep their wings. It was a grace I had given you, out of the kindness of my heart. And you betrayed me. You disgraced this family, you undermined me.” His words were cruel, cold.

One wing dropped to the ground.

You screamed against the leather as Gannon began on the second one. “Did you really believe I would take a wife who thinks she knows better than me? Females do not train. You’re lucky i’m considering still taking you after this.” You were shaking in his arms, vision beginning to black out at the pain. You were ready to welcome the sweet release of unconsciousness when Gannons blade stilled. One cruel hand slipped up under your chin, pulling your face up to look at him. “No, you will stay with us for this. You deserve to feel the pain after what you have done.” You cried as his blade resumed the destruction of your remaining wing.

The second wing dropped to the ground.

You let the tears flow silently, your back aching where the wings used to be. You felt your father come up behind you and rip the back of your nightgown open, not caring that the fabric rubbed against the open wounds. You smelt the fire before you felt it, screaming in panic as you realized what was going to come.

He was going to burn the remaining pieces on your back.

The fire touched the already pain-filled nerves, your hands digging into Gannons chest. You forced yourself to look into his eyes, wondering why, why did he do this? You had loved him, you had trusted him, and he has ruined you. You screamed against the gag in agony, sobbing as the fire finished its job.

You were done for.

Your vision grew black again, your body failing in Gannons arms. No, you were on the ground now. He had dropped you. Your eyes were open, but you couldn’t see anything. You heard a shout from your left, the sound of fighting. You hoped whoever it was would do you a mercy and kill you.

You felt the darkness wrap around you. You prayed to the Mother that this was her gift to you, willing your heart to stop beating. Two strong arms picked you up, cradling you against a hard chest. You didn’t even have it to care who was holding you, didn’t even care if they were friend or foe. You just let yourself fade into that darkest night.

The memory had the tears streaming down your face harder than before. Rhysand was the one who found you that night. You’ve never asked what happened to your father and Gannon, and he never mentioned it again. Rhys brought you here, to Velaris. He called in his best healers and they tried to help the scarring as much as possible.

Their efforts were futile. You were left with a heavily scared back, the most prominent of which were two large ovals, dark on your skin. All that remained of your beautiful, perfect wings. A daily reminder of when you thought you had found love and happiness. You can admit that you have kept to yourself in your years here. You understood why Azriel would see you as so cold. Rhys has been the only one who could get you to trust him, and even that had been a long battle.

When he had been taken Under the Mountain, you felt the same despair you had the night you lost your wings. You were scared without him there. You knew Cassian and Azriel were good males, but you struggled to be around them. They reminded you too much of Gannon. When Azriel had approached you to offer to train, you wanted to decline. You wanted to slam the door in his face and lock yourself behind it.

You couldn’t do it though. Not to Rhys. You had heard the message, the same as everyone else. You knew it was important for you to be trained, to be able to help Velaris if it was ever needed. It was the least you could do for the city that kept you safe.

Training with Azriel proved to be rather enjoyable. You started to like the Shadowsinger, not that you would ever show him that. You knew it was best to keep your heart close, no one could hurt you that way. You began feeling strong again, powerful. Training with an Illyrian solider was much more beneficial than just training like one.

And then he had touched you. He put his hand on your back and you lost control of yourself. Panic had taken over your body, your mind. You barely even remembered what was said between the two of you. You had looked at Azriel and seen Gannon. You ran from the training ring that day, locking yourself in your room and falling apart. It was all too much.

You went to Cassian after that, asking him to train you. He thankfully asked no questions and agreed. You didn’t know what Rhys had told the others of you, if they knew what happened or not. They were all perfectly cordial, but you never stuck around to get to know them any better. Maybe it was time you did, time you started trying to be friendly again.

When Rhys came back from Under the Mountain you were the first one to him. You had held him so carefully, the same way he had held you the night he found you. He had cried that she was his mate, the Cursebreaker. That she was his mate and she loved another. You lead him carefully to his room, staying there with him that night. You let him cry and yell and talk when he wanted, treating him how he had treated you. You knew as well as he did that there was no cure for a shattered heart.

You were happy when you heard Rhys was bringing Feyre to Velaris. You weren’t happy about the why, but you knew she would be better off here with him. You grew close to Feyre rather quickly, even going so far as calling her a friend. You were quieter than the others, and you knew what it was like to be heavily traumatized. Although really, everyone knew that feeling at this point.

You thought back to what Azriel said in the library, his words spinning round and round your head. You have always acted like I disgust you, always glaring at my hands. You hadn’t realized the way you were looking at him. You felt a horrible shame creep up your spine, realizing you had become what you feared. You didn’t glare at his hands because they were ugly. You didn’t even know you were glaring at them. When you had first seen his hands, the scars all over them, you could only think of your own. The scarring on your back. How easy it was for you to hide them, how much harder it was for him.

You were scared of anyone looking at you the way you had been looking at Azriel. You felt a new wave of tears at the realization, guilt beginning to eat you alive. You decided in the morning you would go find him, when hopefully everything is calmer. You finally laid down and closed your eyes, falling into a restless sleep.

***

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON PT. 1!!!! And THANK YOU to that wonderful anon for submitting this idea!!!! I know this is a little short, but I had to end it there to make pt. 3 work! I am probably going to continue to write tonight, soon our dear reader and az will get to talk 👀. Please keep sending comments and requests in!!!!

Also, I live in Alaska so I work off AKDT timewise. I also have a toddler so some days may be slower than others depending on her mood!! Thank you all again, I truly appreciate every comment, reblog, and like more than you know <3

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader #cold hearts

[spacerockfloater]

The way people switched on Tamlin the moment Rhys was introduced is diabolical.

“Tamlin never really loved Feyre, it was all a trick from the start���: It is stated that Tamlin was disgusted by the idea of forcing someone to fall in love with him and considered it slavery, but ended up being so in love with her that he ultimately lets her go and choses her freedom and safety over that of his own people. Rhys confirms that Tamlin loved Feyre too much. And he loved her truly. Not because he had to. Tamlin treated Feyre with dignity when she was engaged to him. He introduced her as his lady, to be respected and cherished by all. And she really was loved his people, too. Rhysand uses her as his lap dog to scare Hewn City and parades her as his whore.

“Tamlin never did anything for Feyre, he just used her”: He improved her and her family’s life in every aspect and offered her everything he had.

“Tamlin had sex with someone else in Calanmai”: Out of duty and responsibility because he didn’t want to force Feyre, who still wasn’t sure about her feelings, into it. All of the High Lords perform the Calanmai. Lucien says so. How convenient that this is never brought up with Rhysand. He surely does perform it as well. All the theories in here, “Lucien doesn’t know what he’s talking about/ This is a SC ritual only/ He probably just passes the duty on to someone else” are just a way for people to villainise Tam and glorify Rhys again. All of them inaccurate. The Calanmai is canonically performed by every High Lord. There’s no evidence that proves otherwise. As the son of one High Lord and the ambassador of another, Lucien would know. He is 500 years old. It’s just more convenient for SJM to never bring this up again because it raises the question of “Who was Rhysand fucking all these years?” and it makes her favourite character look bad. And once he is engaged to her, Tamlin flat out refuses to do it. Let’s be real for a second.

“Tamlin didn’t help Feyre under the mountain”: He literally could not. He was bound by a curse. He was forced to be Amarantha’s consort and a consort cannot oppose you. His powers were bound. Alis warns Feyre that Tamlin will not be able to help her. Stop acting as if he didn’t want to help her. He decapitated Amarantha the moment he got his autonomy back. Claiming that there’s no proof that Tamlin was under the influence of a spell when he literally didn’t break the curse and Amarantha’s magic didn’t allow him to use his powers is crazy. And even if he tried, he could never provide actual help. We see this when he begs Amarantha for Feyre’s life. Him showing he cares about her would only make Amarantha more jealous and vicious towards Feyre.

“Tamlin made out with Feyre instead of helping her”: He couldn’t help her run away. No one could do that. She would never make it, Amarantha would find her. In fact, Tamlin specifically could not help her in any way. He could only assure her he still wants and loves her. And she wanted that just as much. Rhys abused her physically, mentally, verbally, drugged her and much worse. And he enjoyed all of it. If he didn’t want to raise suspicions, he wouldn’t have placed a bet in her favour. Rhys is a masochist, SJM just decided to mellow him down in the next book so that we’d all like him over Tamlin.

“Tamlin ignored Feyre’s wishes and only wanted her to be his bride, he didn’t let her be High Lady”: Both Tamlin and Feyre were bad communicators going though trauma and Tam had a whole court to care for. Tamlin was unaware of how Feyre felt because she barely spoke up once. Rhys knew because he literally lived inside her head and had all the time in the world to focus his attention on her since his court suffered zero consequences during Amarantha’s reign. And Tamlin simply told her the truth: there’s no such thing as High Lady. Even her current title is given to her by Rhys, the magic of Prythian has not actually chosen her to be High Lady. The title and its power are decorative. And she said she didn’t want that anyway.

“Tamlin locks Feyre up and uses his magic to harm her”: He locks her in his humongous palace to keep her safe, after she just came back from the dead and his worst enemy is kidnapping her every month, while he runs off to protect his borders. Rhysand lock Feyre in a fucking bubble. Tamlin loses control of his magic. He doesn’t want to harm her. That’s not abuse. Abuse is intentional. Feyre and Rhysand lock Lucien and Nesta up. They lock the people of the Hewn City up in a cave. Feyre loses control of her magic and harms Lucien’s mother. Double standards I guess.

“Tamlin is a bad and conservative ruler”: Tamlin is such a beloved ruler that his sentries literally begged to die for him. Feyre had to fuck with their minds to finally turn them against him. They were his friends. He was so progressive that the lords fled his court once he became their ruler because he wouldn’t put up with their bullshit like his father did. He loved all of his people. He is against slavery. The Tithe was just tax collection. Rhysand practically rules over just one city, while ignoring Hewn City and Illyria. He treats 2/3 of his realm like shit and everyone except the residents of Velaris hates him. He collects tax, too, but we conveniently never see this. He ranks the members of his inner circle (my 1st, my 2nd etc.) and reminds them every moment that they are his slaves first and anything else second, while Tamlin treats them equally and even gives Lucien an official title by naming him Ambassador.

“Tamlin conspired with Hybern”: He was a double agent and his short lived alliance, two weeks all in all, not only didn’t harm a single soul, but ultimately saved all of Prythian as he was the only one who brought valuable information to that meeting. He dragged Beron to battle. Rhysand’s alliance with Amarantha harmed thousands and only helped save one city, Velaris.

“Tamlin is responsible for turning Nesta and Elain into Fae”: No, that was Ianthe, who got the info from Feyre. Tamlin was fooled by her, just as Feyre obviously was, or she wouldn’t have trusted her. Tamlin was disgusted by that act.

“Tamlin is less powerful than Rhysand”: Rhysand himself says that a battle between them would turn mountains to dust. Tamlin killed Rhysand’s dad, the previous High Lord of the Night Court, in one blow. He is just as powerful as Rhysand. SJM again just wants us to believe otherwise. And he is smarter, too. He was the only one not to trust Amarantha. And he was a good spy for Prythian against Hybern.

All of these takes are cold as fuck. SJM was testing the waters with ACOTAR and she made sure the main love interest, Tamlin, was insanely likeable, so that the book could be a satisfactory standalone story in case she couldn’t land a trilogy deal. She didn’t know it would be such a big hit. But once she realised she could turn this into a franchise, she had to figure out a new story to tell. She may claim otherwise, but there’s just too many plothotes to convince me. And in order to make her new main love interest seem like the best choice, she had to character assassinate the old one. There was no other way. ACOTAR Rhys was too much of an evil monster to be loved by the majority of the audience. But Tamlin was introduced to us as such a heroic and passionate man that is literally impossible to turn him into someone despised by all. Feyre’s relationship with Rhysand reads too much like cheating on Tamlin. That’s why anyone with basic analytical skills is able to realise the flaws of the narration.

#acotar critical #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #anti sjm #sjm critical #tamlin #tamlin week #pro tamlin #he deserves the world #tamlin my beloved #anti amren #anti rhysand #anti morrigan #anti ic #anti inner circle #anti feyre archeron #anti feyre #anti feysand #anti night court #pro spring court #anti cassian #pro lucien vanserra

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Cassian: So... I've seen you've been spending a lot of time with Rhys recently.

Feyre: No, Cassian, it's not what it looks like. I swear.

Cassian: Oh really? So no reason for me to be jealous?

Feyre: No! You're the only one for me.

Cassian: Is that so?

Feyre: I promise. Rhysand and I are just bonded, okay? He's my mate.

Cassian: So there are no best-friend-feelings involved?

Feyre: You are still my one and only best friend! He's just the love of my life, nothing more!

Cassian: But I'm still the platonic love of your life, right?

Feyre: Of course!

Rhys:

Rhys: What the-

#cassian #cassian acotar #cassian x feyre #rhys #rhysand #feysand #incorrect acotar quotes #acotar memes #funny acotar #acotar #acowar #acosf #acomaf #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #acotar funny

[flickering-chandelier]

What You Mean To Me

Pairing: Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Cassian is fed up with Rhysand x Reader beating around the bush and helps them get together.

Word Count: 2.5k

You would certainly not consider yourself to be a jealous person. In fact, you rather prided yourself in your ability to keep a level head and look at a situation from every possible angle, giving people the benefit of the doubt before you would jump to conclusions.

And really, there was no reason for you to be jealous. The High Lord had taken you in when you had nowhere else to go, and he admittedly had become your closest friend. You knew he cared for you in his own way. But, that was just it. You were friends… nothing more. Although he flirted with you shamelessly, you knew he didn’t mean any of it. You were endlessly polite, unable to bring yourself to even attempt to flirt back. 

Yet, as you watched him mingle at Mor’s favorite club in Velaris, watched how heads turned as Rhys walked through the crowd, saw the twinkle in the eyes of every woman he talked to…let’s just say that you were keenly aware that every eye was on him and that he hadn’t so much as glanced in your direction for the past thirty minutes.

“He’s not interested in them, you know,” Cassian said as he settled in beside you, passing one of the drinks in his hand to you.

“Hmm?” you said, finally tearing your gaze from Rhysand, stirring your drink absently with your straw.

Cassian snorted. “Rhys. He’s not interested in any of those people flocking him.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference, gingerly taking a sip of your drink. “Okay?” 

“Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been watching him all night, like you always do when we’re out and about,” he said, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

“I do not-”

“You do,” Cassian cut in. “Just admit to yourself that you’re in love with him, will you? I think you’ll be way less miserable. Even better, admit it to him.”

You gaped at him, your mouth forming a small o as you tried desperately to form a response that wasn’t humiliating. “I am not in love with him. He’s -- he’s Rhys, he’s my best friend.”

“Your best friend who saved your life,” Cassian offered, smiling cockily.

You drew your mouth into a thin line. “Well, yes. Of course he means a lot to me. But anyway, I’m not miserable.”

You turned away from him, frustrated, and faced forward, where you practically had a front row seat to watch a beautiful High Fae whispering in Rhys’s ear, his smile sensual, his hand at her waist.

Cassian looked at you thoughtfully for a moment. “You look pretty miserable. You look like you hate that woman he’s with. And I’ve never known you to hate anybody.”

You sighed, turning to face Cassian once again. “I don’t hate her. I… I think I’m mad at myself.” You thought about all those times Rhys had flirted with you, given you that lazy, sexy smirk… and you had done absolutely nothing, too scared to admit to him or yourself what those little moments had done to you. You paused, not wanting to admit it, but knowing that Cassian had opened the door for you to finally talk about your feelings for the High Lord. “I think you may be right. I think I may love him. But what does it matter? I can’t do anything about it.”

Cassian seemed taken aback. “What -- are you blind? What do you mean you can’t do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do? He’s the High Lord, and he and I are so different. He would never want me.”

“Once again, I raise the question, are you blind? Have you not noticed the way he looks at you? How often he looks at you? Or how often he flirts with you? Or how angry he gets at me when I flirt with you?

You shook your head, swirling your straw around again for a distraction. “You’re out of your mind. He hasn’t looked at me once since we got here! And he’s angry at you all the time, that has nothing to do with me.”

Cassian laughed. “You don’t think maybe he’s unaware that you’re interested? You’ve never once entertained his flirting, never tried to tell him how you feel. I think he genuinely has no idea if you see him that way or not. Maybe he’s trying to give you space to come to him, when you’re ready.”

Twisting in your seat again to face away from Cassian, you glanced up and noticed that Rhys was staring right at you, his expression unreadable, and the woman talking to him seemingly forgotten. You quickly glanced away, not knowing how to feel anymore.

“Trust me,” Cassian leaned in, his breath tickling your ear, “I’ve known Rhys for a long time. He wants you. He wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything.”

“I--” a blush rushed to your cheeks as you stared at Cassian, completely lost for words. It couldn’t be true, could it? But you knew Cassian would never lie to you, especially not about something like this.

“You better pick your chin up off the floor, because he’s on his way over,” Cassian whispered to you, his smile teasing.

Before you could do anything, Rhysand was before you both, his eyes shooting between you and Cassian. His smile was easy but his eyes had a hint of something else, like he wasn’t sure what to make of the two of you right then. 

“Cassian, what have you been saying to the poor darling to make her blush like that?” Rhysand said with the hint of an edge to his voice, his violet eyes fixing on you.

“You know me, Rhys, always stirring up trouble,” Cassian grinned,squeezing your shoulder for a moment before standing up and downing his drink in one gulp. “You know what? I think it would be best if she told you all about it on her own. I’ll see you guys later,” he said, shooting you a wink before sauntering off.

Rhysand watched him go before his eyes landed back on you. “If you need me to beat him up, just say the word.” 

You laughed, feeling slightly nervous about being alone with him for the first time you could remember. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

He gazed down at you, and took your hand in his, gently pulling until you were standing. “Dance with me, darling?” he purred, just as a slow, beautiful song started playing.

“Of course,” you said quietly, trying not to flush as he led you to a quiet corner of the floor, gently guiding your body close to his.

Rhysand’s touch was gentle, as it always was with you. He had a hand at your waist, idly running his thumb back and forth over the thin fabric of your dress, while his other was holding yours. He was so much taller than you and he was holding you so close that when he spoke you had to crane your neck to look up at him. 

“Are you alright? You seem… upset,” he murmured, gazing down at you with those twinkling eyes.

You felt your cheeks warm, remembering what Cassian had said, remembered Rhysand’s hand on that woman’s waist only minutes ago, and cursed yourself for it. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to sound like it was true. “I’m just a little tired, I think.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure? You know you can tell me anything,” he murmured. 

You tensed, your fingers tightening on his hand, his shoulder. You averted your gaze, unable to stomach the way he could read you like a book. “I don’t know if that’s true,” you whispered, barely audible over the music and the crowd, but you knew he had heard it.

The look he gave you was of pure concern. “What do you mean? Have -- Have I done something?”

Quickly, you shook your head, eyes daring to meet his again. “No! It’s just... You’re the High Lord. You’ve got a whole court to worry about. You shouldn’t have to worry about me.”

Rhys scanned your face, his eyes softening. Quietly, so unbelievably quietly he said, “you have no idea, do you? You have no idea what you are to me.”

“What--” 

Before you could finish, he asked, “Will you go for a walk with me?”

You hesitated, trying to read his expression. He looked almost like he was in pain, like if you said no, it would be a tragedy. “Okay,” you said, tentatively, almost a question.

Smoothly placing his hand on the small of your back, he guided you through the crowd to the door. Cassian caught your eye and grinned, his eyebrows shooting up into a question as his gaze flicked to Rhys. You swore you could feel Rhysand roll his eyes next to you.

Once you were outside, you took a deep breath of the crisp night air, and looked up to the sky, watching the stars twinkling, trying to ground yourself before whatever was about to happen.

You felt Rhysand’s eyes on you as he took your hand, wordlessly leading you through the City of Starlight. It was unusually quiet tonight; you two were the only people around as he stopped on the bridge looking out across the river and perched his elbows on the railing, gazing out.

It took you a moment to work up the nerve, but you settled in next to him, your arms almost touching, but not quite. 

After a few moments of silence, Rhysand murmured, “you were so broken when we met. You were so alone, and all I wanted was to give you a home. It broke my heart every day to look at you during those first months.”

Try as you might, you could not think of anything to say for a long moment. Eventually you settled on, “you did give me a home, Rhys. And a family. You saved me. You gave me everything.” 

He let out a humorless laugh, still gazing out at the river. “I wanted to give you more,” he said quietly.

You felt your breath catch. “What do you mean?”

Finally, he turned to face you, his eyes on fire like you’ve never seen them before. “I need you to tell me the truth. Please,” he said, his voice wavering in a way that nearly broke your heart in two. He sounded like the words hurt him. “Who am I to you? Am I just your friend? Just your High Lord? Is that all I’ve ever been?”

In this moment, there was no trace of the vibrato and easy smugness that he always wore around. He was vulnerable, pleading, and it made you wonder how many times he had wanted to ask you that question. You knew you could be ruining everything, but finally you whispered, “No. I-- I never wanted you to just be those things.”

He took a step toward you, his hand gently tilting your chin up to look at him. He murmured, “What is it that you want, darling?” 

The breath rushed from your lungs. You felt like you were drowning as he looked down at you, his eyes so intense, his breathing uneven, yet still remaining so gentle where he touched you. “I want…” you gulped, trying to find the courage necessary to get the words out. “I want you.”

Rhys’s eyes widened, his breath stopped entirely. Without another word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him as he leaned down to kiss you, tentatively at first, as if he didn’t want to scare you off. You let out an involuntary noise, almost a squeak, and after a moment, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. 

He groaned quietly, and as his tongue slipped into your mouth, it all clicked into place. You felt it, the tug between the two of you, as if your very souls were connected. Because… maybe they were.

With a jolt, you took a step back, your hands sliding down to grasp Rhysand’s considerable biceps. He looked slightly terrified. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” He asked, eyes raking your body as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

You could barely get the words out, feeling like your throat was constricted. “Are you… my mate?”

Rhysand’s expression of pain and concern turned into a slow, seductive half smile that you knew so well. “It’s about time you caught up.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as he pulled you to him once again, gently brushing your hair out of your face and gazing at you with so much love, you felt like you might collapse. 

You looked at him as he steadied you, a silent question in your eyes.

“I’ve known since the moment I saw you. Felt the ground shake beneath my feet, felt the tug in my chest immediately, like nothing else mattered anymore. Nothing but you.”

You couldn't help it. You smacked his chest and he let out a soft grunt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes softened again, tinged with pain and maybe a little guilt as he looked at you. “You had never had a choice in anything before you met me. I didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t deny me. And you had so much to deal with… I didn’t want to add to your plate or confuse you. I just wanted you to heal. And I hoped and dreamed and wished to the stars that one day you would figure it out. That you would love me back.” 

Suddenly, tears burst from your eyes, running down your cheeks. He brushed them away with his thumb, so gently you wanted to cry even more. “I always loved you back,” you choked out. 

He grinned, pulling you into him tightly, kissing the top of your head with a contented sigh. “It sounds like we have to make up for a lot of lost time then,” he purred. 

You tilted your chin up to kiss him, wishing you could do it forever, and realizing with a start that you had your entire immortal life ahead of you with him. With your mate. 

As you pulled away, you mumbled, “Cassian is never going to let me live this down.”

Rhysand growled, his hands tensing on your waist. “He’s the one that pushed you into my arms tonight, is he?” 

You nodded, relishing the feeling of his arms around you, and wondering if you would ever get used to it. “Did he know?”

Rhys seemed to contemplate for a moment. “I think he figured it out. He knows me too well. I didn’t tell him, though. I didn’t trust him to keep his mouth shut,” he smirked. 

The two of you gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment, and Rhys smirked, giving you a look that could only mean he was undressing you with his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Cassian anymore,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on your lips.

“Me either,” you breathed.

Rhys laughed seductively, gripping you tightly, before unfurling his wings and shooting you into the sky in one movement, no doubt racing you to the townhouse to do what he had been dreaming about for so, very long.

#rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand acotar #rhysand one shot #acotar x reader #ACOTAR x you #acotar #cassian #Cassian acotar #ACOTAR fic #ACOTAR fluff #acotar one shot

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Part Six — Azriel x Reader

Note — Tumblr still isn’t allowing me to tag some of you. I’ll keep trying but if you haven’t already, make sure you check in settings that your username is able to be searched/tagged! Mwah 💕

Summary: Reader seeks comfort after the events in Fenlaros. Lines are crossed that can’t be uncrossed. Actions come with consequences.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: Some violence. Things get fiiiilthy. 18+, NSFW, smut, minors dni.

It’s not clear who punches who first, because fists are flying left and right. The male in front of you lands a harsh hit on your cheek, the metal of a ring catching your skin, but there’s no chance to register the burst of pain, because you’re being shoved, and you’re shoving back, and your knuckles are pummelling into another male’s face while his friend sends a punch straight into your gut.

It’s that impact that winds you too much to move. You’re doubling over, trying to draw breath while the fight continues around you. The same male goes to hit you a second time.

But he doesn’t have a chance as Rhys comes lunging at him and knocks him to the floor. Your friend is as flawless with his fists as he is with steel. The Fenlaros male doesn’t stand a chance against him.

This is…this is bad. If you can somehow round your friends up and get out of there before it gets any worse, you may be able to escape the repercussions. A fight like this between two camps could carry a punishment anywhere from revoked privileges to an outright flogging. You’d really rather not face a disgruntled Lord of Windhaven upon your return.

Through the brawl, you’re searching for both Azriel and Cassian. You’ve lost sight of them both completely. And you know they can hold their own, that they’re some of the best fighters in all of Illyria, but the four of you are vastly outnumbered. Even the trio of your closest friends have limits, and being dogpiled by a group of males out for blood surely brings them close to theirs.

Someone grabs the back of your shirt, and with your breath having returned to you somewhat, you round on them, ready to defend yourself once more. However, it’s Cassian who looms over you, hair tousled and shirt wrinkled.

He yells at you over the noise, “This is getting out of hand! We need to get out of here!”

Thank gods he’s choosing to be sensible for once. You suppose even Cass knows when a fight is worth having.

“I’m trying to find Az!” You shout back. “I don’t know where he—”

“Kaeda already pulled him out. Let’s grab Rhys and go!”

Now is a really, really inappropriate time to feel jealous.

And yet jealous, you are.

And maybe even a little hurt, too. Did Az even try to find you before making an exit with Kaeda?

You banish the thoughts, allowing Cassian to wrench you through the people and mostly avoid getting hurt, besides the odd wayward fist that isn’t intended for you. The second he spots Rhys, still fighting with the male who winded you, he’s grabbing him firmly by the collar of his shirt and leaving no room for protest.

“We’re getting out of here before this turns really bloody.” He tells him loudly.

Rhys doesn’t put up a fight. He nods, straight on board with the exit strategy. His wild, alert gaze swivels to study you. “You’re alright?”

“Fine.” You nod. “Let’s go.”

It turns out the exit strategy is to just shove through hordes of people until you find a way out. Rhys is keeping hold of Cassian and you’re keeping hold of Rhys, and the three of you create an aggressive little train that wends through the chaos until cold air washes over you, and you’re spilling out onto the front path. You can hear the distant whoosh and thwack of the Fenlaros lot having no choice but to turn on each other.

“Y/N!”

You turn, just in time to see Az pushing away from a wall, Kaeda in tow. She carries a bloodied dish rag that she was clearly using to dab at his bust lip, but she falls back as Az strides over to you.

“I was looking for you everywhere.” He grabs your chin in his hand, turning your head to the side. “Your cheek is cut.”

You stare back at him, waiting for him to say something — something that even vaguely resembles an explanation as to why he started all of this.

“We should really get out of here—”

“Does it hurt?” He interrupts Rhysand’s interjection, his touch gentle despite the ferocity in his gaze. His thumb brushes over your cheek.

You’re too pissed off to care about his concern.

“I’ll live.” You snap, shoving him away from you. “Azriel, what the fuck?”

“My sentiments entirely.” Cass mumbles.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You continue. “You were the one who said coming here was nothing to be worried about, and then you start that? Have you totally lost your mind?”

“My sentiments entirely.” Rhys echoes.

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw ticks. He takes a step back, swallowing hard. “Sorry for being protective—”

“Possessive, more like—”

“It’s my fault.”

Both your heads snap round as Kaeda steps closer. She stares between you, wide-eyed. Doe-eyed. Looking like she stole the last slice of cake and has a litany of evidence stacked against her.

“He was being protective over me.” She says, and you freeze. She angles herself towards Azriel. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that Thedis and I have history. I don’t know why I did. I’m sorry, I—I didn’t think you’d react like that.”

Oh.

Oh.

That’s—that’s not what you thought was happening.

Clearly, you and Kaeda have two very different understandings of what went down.

You study Az closely, waiting for his reaction — to see if Kaeda is right, and it wasn’t you he was starting a fight over at all.

He stares at her like she’s spoken in a foreign tongue. He opens his mouth.

“Shit.” Kaeda swears suddenly, looking past him. “Shit, that’s my father.”

Each of you swivels around to see the colossal male striding down the path towards you, two slightly — very slightly — smaller males flanking either side of him. His long hair falls about his head in unruly waves, and there’s something ruggedly handsome about his face that kind of makes you want him to smother you with his ridiculously huge bicep. Everything about him is dark. His eyes and his beard and the whorls of Illyrian tattoos that cover the expanse of his neck.

This…this is a male who could snuff out a family of six just by looking in their direction. And his gaze zeroes in entirely on Azriel.

Cassian yanks you closer by the back of your shirt. “Let’s go—”

“He’s going to want to speak with you.” Kaeda turns to Azriel. “You’re the only shadowsinger around here. He knows who you are. He’s intrigued by your power.”

Az continues to watch his approach. And then he squares his shoulders. “Fine.” He doesn’t even glance your way as he says, “I’ll see the rest of you back in Windhaven.”

You don’t like this. Not one bit. Who knows what the male might do to Azriel? You want to say something, to protest—

But Kaeda links her arm through his, and you know there’s no point. This isn’t your fight.

“Don’t get yourself into even deeper shit.” Cassian says, lifting you into his arms.

Kaeda doesn’t seem worried. She rolls her eyes at that. “He’s not going to hurt him.”

You can’t help staring at her. She seems so sure, so unbothered. Not just by what her father might have in store, but by the entire situation. She seems almost…smug.

Az did start an entire fucking brawl over her, after all.

You can’t meet his gaze as you cling to Cassian. Too much has happened in a short space of time. It makes you feel…full. Uncomfortable. You need some space from Az to process what exactly just occurred.

And it seems like your wish will be granted. It’s clear, as he steps closer, that Kaeda’s father has no interest in the rest of you. His cat-like eyes follow a shadow that coils around your friend, and you could swear his lips want to smirk. Like there’s some inside joke the rest of you aren’t privy to.

“Go.” Azriel says, and neither Rhys nor Cass need telling twice. They don’t seem particularly concerned.

Your gaze snags on Az just as Cassian’s arms tighten around you, and he shoots into the skies with an unpleasantly steep climb. Rhys does the same.

And as Kaeda and Azriel become smaller the higher you go, you’re just able to glimpse Kaeda’s father stopping before him and shaking his hand. It’s then that you look away.

This isn’t for you to worry about. It’s—

It’s between him and Kaeda.

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

The thing about flying — or, in your case, being flown — is that it’s invaluable for moments of pensiveness. There’s no better time to face your thoughts than when the clarity of the sky stretches all around you.

But that can also be really fucking dangerous. Because you think. And then you think some more. And then suddenly, you’re thinking about anything and everything all at once, thinking about ifs, buts, maybes, thinking yourself into a bad mood.

And that is precisely what you do.

You are pissed the fuck off.

So pissed off, you want to scream into the void, at the shifting landscape below. You’re pissed off with Azriel, with his actions, with your entire situation.

He has never been as stupid, as reckless, as he has been recently. Never did you think you’d see a day where Cassian was the more sensible of the two. You’re used to Az being the mediator, to always approaching situations with a rational mind.

And yet these days, he’s a ticking time bomb. You don’t know who he might have a problem with, and clearly you don’t know why, given that you so wrongly assumed his protectiveness — possessiveness — flared up over you.

Of course it was Kaeda. How stupid you are.

Lust is one hell of a blinding light.

Every few seconds, you tell yourself you’re not going to think about it. And then a few seconds after that, you’re straight back to that constant screech of AZRIELANDKAEDAAZRIELANDKAEDAAZRIELANDKAEDA.

If this is who he’s becoming because of her…you’re not sure that’s a good thing.

By the time Cassian is setting you down in front of the cottage, your mood is absolutely foul. You feel sobered by the situation. You may as well have not had a drop of alcohol at all.

Rhys doesn’t stick around. He tells you and Cass that he’s going to Velaris — he wants to explain what happened in Fenlaros to his father before the High Lord can hear it from anyone else. And so it’s just you and Cassian traipsing into the cottage, freezing cold and fed up that the night went how it did. Your stomach is starting to ache where the male punched you, the cut on your cheek starting to sting.

You head straight for the kitchen and begin turfing through the cabinets, looking for a half-empty bottle of whiskey or a snack or something. You slam each cabinet door closed, but it does nothing to alleviate your irritation.

Cassian lights a fire, his eyes watching you closely. Perhaps he can sense that something is brewing in your veins. And he’d be right about that — you’re just not sure what it is.

Finally, you sit up on the kitchen counter and settle on biting into a stale bread roll. It’s dry and tasteless, but it occupies your mouth and stops a scream from escaping.

“I want to clean that cut on your cheek.” Cass strides over to the kitchen, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Only in your heart. “No.” You lie.

He nods, and just like the other night, he begins gathering medical supplies. He’s getting good at this. You kind of want to tell him not to bother, to just let the cut sting, but you’re brooding too much to get the words out.

You swallow down your last, dry bite of bread, and you comment, “I knew going to Fenlaros was a fucking terrible idea.”

Cassian chuckles. There isn’t much that fazes him. “In hindsight, I don’t know what we were thinking.”

“With your cocks, probably.”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, and then his hands are on your knees, parting your legs so he can slot himself in between. You don’t protest; he’ll only start a mother hen routine and threaten to bring you to a healer instead.

He wets a rag and begins to gently dab the gash on your cheek. It hurts, but not enough. Not bad enough to drown out the thoughts of the night’s events. You go through them from start to finish, and you have to suck in a deep breath just to stop yourself from punching something.

Why had Kaeda suggested such a stupid fucking thing?

And okay, you can’t put the blame entirely on her; it’s mostly your jealousy that stokes your anger. You, Azriel, Cassian and Rhys are all fully autonomous adults. Any of you could have shot the idea down and refused to go.

But it just…it just sits funny with you, weird in your chest. Something about it feels…gross.

Again — probably your jealousy talking.

But the entire thing had been a shit show from start to finish. You should have known, from the self-loathing thoughts that were pelting you on the way there, that you should never have gone. And your failure to listen to your gut only worsens your mood.

“You push that brain to think any harder and it’ll explode.” Cassian murmurs, his warm breath fanning your face. “You can share, if you like. I may even be able to dredge up some wisdom to impart.”

You bite down on your lower lip. “Why would Kaeda’s father want to speak with Az?”

It surprises you that the question makes him smile. “I wouldn’t worry over that.” He says. “I imagine he’s more interested in speaking to Az because he’s fucking his daughter than because he came to a rival camp.”

You almost flinch at the words.

Of course, you know that by now, Azriel and Kaeda have probably taken that leap and slept together. But torturing yourself with your thoughts is different to hearing it said aloud, and by someone so close to Az, too.

It hurts. And you want to scratch away at the feeling. It might just be what tips you over.

Cass studies you for a moment, reading the change, the tightening, in your expression. He knows there’s something — but thank the gods he doesn’t know what.

He turns his attention to your hand — your knuckles must have split when you threw a couple of good punches — and he begins to clean it gently.

“Here I am again, eh? Playing healer. I should get myself an apron.”

He’s trying to make you laugh, but you can barely force your lips to twitch upwards. He drinks in your pathetic attempt with a sympathy that you can’t stand. And, sensing that humour isn’t going to be enough tonight, he tries a different approach.

“Talk to me, Y/N.” He pleads softly, dabbing gently at your hand. “Please…”

You frown. You’re thinking and feeling too many things at once to make sense of them. Running through the entire night over and over. You’re not sure which of those feelings will rear its ugly head when you try to speak.

But you open your mouth, and the words just spill out.

“I really fucking hated myself tonight.”

Cassian pauses momentarily. And then he continues his treatment to your wounds. “Y/N, fights break out every other hour—”

“No. Not because of the fight. It wasn’t that.” You swallow a lump down. “It was the flying.”

“…the flying?”

“Being carried by Rhys while the rest of you flew so freely. Knowing I’ll never be able to do that. I’m Illyrian, and yet I’m always going to be confined to the ground. I hated myself—”

“Y/N—”

“I really fucking hated myself, Cass. And to be confronted by that fact every damn time I take my shirt off…to see the fucking hideous remains of my wings—”

Your words are cut short when Cassian’s huge hands grab your face and force you to look at him. It stings the cut on your cheek, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he stares at you fiercely.

“No. Cut that out right now.” A muscle in his jaw moves. You’re looking back at a lesser-spotted serious Cassian. “There is no part of you — not one part — that comes even close to being hideous, scars or no scars. You’re brilliant. Inside and out. You’re fucking beautiful, and I love you, and I won’t have you hating yourself. Particularly not at the hands of your piece of shit father.”

For a moment, you’re so stunned by the impassioned speech that you don’t know what to say. Thanking him wouldn’t be enough. And you think you might want to cry, but tonight, crying wouldn’t be enough, either. Nor would screaming. You just…want to feel something different. Something good.

Something worth feeling.

You stare back at Cassian, and your throat bobs.

And it might be against your better judgement, but you cover his hands with yours, and you haul your mouth to his.

You can’t exactly explain it, but he has a mouth as rugged as his general appearance, something rough and untamed and just…Cassian. It’s exactly what you need in that moment. You kiss him as if you’ve kissed him a thousand times before.

You feel the moment’s hesitation on his end. It’s rare that anything is able to knock him silent, but this most certainly does. After a pause, he rips his mouth away from yours, and he stares at you, wide-eyed and flushed, reading your face as if in search of an answer to an unspoken question.

But his internal battle isn’t a long one. He seems satisfied with whatever conclusion he comes to. And then he’s surging forward and kissing you back, hard.

What follows is not slow nor tentative.

You and Cassian love each other dearly, but there are no illusions that this is anything but needed pleasure. He’s not reciprocating because he’s spent hours daydreaming about this, or because you mean more to him than any other female.

Cassian would fuck a tree if a stirred branch waved in his general direction.

And that is absolutely fine. That is exactly what you need.

He wrenches your legs further apart and yanks you to the very edge of the counter, just so he can get closer, kiss you harder. His hand snakes up the nape of your neck and bunches in your hair, strands of it tangling around his fingers, and he tips your head back, his mouth scorching hot and hungry on yours.

This is not something you’ve ever thought about, because he is just Cassian. He’s the male who pisses you off by leaving weapons lying around under couch cushions, who sings loudly at the top of his voice first thing in the morning, who fights like fighting is going out of fashion. Since the first day you’d met him, when his eleven-year-old self had looked you up and down and challenged you to an arm wrestle, he’s always just been Cassian.

You’ve always needed him in some impulsive, temperamental way — someone who keeps you on your toes, even if you complain about it sometimes. But now, you need him in a different way.

You part your mouth from his, just long enough to rip your shirt off and chuck it vaguely over his shoulder. Cass watches as you unclasp the bandeau that covers your breasts, and that’s being thrown away, too, and now your top half is naked, and Cassian is growling. It’s not even that he hasn’t seen these parts of you before, but you’d think it was the first ever time, going by the way his eyes darken, and a thousand sinful thoughts flit over his face.

“Fuck.” His voice is deeper. Both of his hands cup your breasts, and he kisses you again. “I love these.”

You smile, and you lock your legs around his waist, and you both groan as you yank him as close as he can get, and you’re grinding the centre of you over the bulge in his breeches. That, alone, feels too good — the length of him pushing through the barrier of your clothing. It’s not enough. You need more. You need him inside you.

Cass seems to echo the sentiment as he growls and finally yanks you fully off the counter. “No screwing around.” He says through gritted teeth. “I need to fuck you.”

His hands are at your breeches, and he’s ripping them open, and you’re so wet between your legs that you have to rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. Cassian notices, of course, and one side of his mouth tips up into a smirk.

“Turn around.”

You do.

You’re happy to be commanded. You don’t want to be in charge, don’t want to teach.

You want to be taken, and you want to be taught.

His rough hands shove your breeches all the way down, and then he’s seeing to his, ripping at the buttons and stays just enough to pull the hard length of him out. You turn your head to drink in the sight, but he doesn’t allow it.

He slams your front against that counter, and then he’s at your back, the head of his cock brushing against you as he murmurs into your ear, “How do you want it?”

You think your mouth might be watering. “Hard.”

“Hard?”

“Hard.”

“Brace yourself, then, sweetpea.” He grabs your hands, plants them firmly on the counter, calluses biting into your skin. His teeth graze the shell of your ear as he asks, “Are you ready for me?”

You couldn’t be more ready if you tried. You moan, pushing your ass back against him. His chuckle is felt through every inch of you.

He moves one hand down, drags it down your body, slots it between your legs. Your hips give a little jerk as he mops up some of your wetness with his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, you’re ready for me.” There’s a smirk in his voice. His fingers land on your clit, and he nips your ear again. “Good girl.”

You open your mouth — to say something, or to beg, you’re not sure. But there’s no chance.

The head of Cassian’s cock is guided to your entrance. You gasp at the mere feeling of it bumping against you, teasing the opening.

And then he fucking thrusts all the way in, hard enough that you slam once again against the counter. Medical supplies go flying onto the floor.

And gods, it feels too good.

There’s a tiny bite of pain, yes, but it’s pleasurable — more a feeling of fullness. He’s pushed all the way in to the hilt, and the guttural noise that leaves him might just be enough to make you come. It’s animalistic, the way he groans, almost a snarl.

“Hard?” He repeats, withdrawing slightly.

You gasp, your head tipping back. “Hard.”

“Thank the Mother.”

You yelp as his hand suddenly smacks against your ass cheek, and then he’s spreading you open and thrusting in again.

He is not gentle.

He is not soft or tentative or even kind.

This is how Cassian — the much-feared Illyrian — fucks.

And you like it, want it, need it. You push back against him to remind him he doesn’t need to be gentle. Forget about the fact that you’ve always known each other, that you have a fondness for each other.

Fuck me, you communicate silently. Ruin me, and make me forget who I am.

He growls, as if those very thoughts reached him mind-to-mind. And fuck you, he does.

You’re slammed again and again against the counter, hard enough to bruise and leave marks. His balls slap against your skin as he damn near rams into you at an unstoppable force. He’s grunting and snarling and panting. His hands suddenly clasp both of your arms, and he pulls them behind your back, holding onto them and thrusting faster.

“Fucking knew,” he growls, “that your cunt would feel like this. That you’d squeeze my cock like this.”

He slows just slightly — just enough to roll his hips and make sure you feel every single inch of him stroking the inside of you. The shout that leaves you doesn’t even sound like you.

“You like that, sweetpea?” He chuckles darkly. He pushes in to the hilt again, and you moan — a mistake that comes with a penalty. His hips still. “Give me your words, sweetheart. I want to know how much you need my cock.”

“Cassian.” You grit your teeth. “Fuck me.”

He withdraws. Slams into you again. And then the rhythm picks up, the pace fast and raw and unbeatable. Gripping onto your arms gives Cass the perfect leverage to take you exactly as you want him to take you, as he wants to take you. He can’t possibly go any faster, reach any deeper.

Heat coils in your lower belly. You meet every one of his thrusts by bucking against him, and it spurs your body on. You can feel something brilliant building beneath your skin and firing through your veins.

And when he lets go of one of your arms and dips his hand between your legs, his fingers immediately finding your clit, you’re not at all sure that you won’t just explode.

As you feel the head of his cock hit deep inside you, unable to go any further, as the pads of his fingers circle your clit, the noise that leaves you is unlike any other noise you’ve ever made. You’re vaguely aware of a sudden surge of wetness between your legs that drips down your thighs. Cassian made you squirt.

He half-laughs-half-groans, and his teeth nip your ear. “Sweetpea,” he bites out, “who knew you were such a filthy girl? Is this what I’ve been missing out on?”

You can’t speak — words fail you. You’re utterly incapable of doing anything but making your breathy little noises, your fractured moans, as Cassian pounds into you. His ministrations at your clit don’t even falter, even as he lets out a noise that hints at his own release being close.

“Come for me again.” Your wetness still drenches his hand, you know, but it’s not enough — he wants more. His finger presses down hard on your clit, and at the exact same moment, he lands a harsh kiss on your neck that turns into a suck. He slams into you so hard that you have to grip the counter to stop yourself being winded for the second time that night. And you erupt.

You hear the exact moment the walls of your cunt clamp around Cassian’s length. The noise he makes is one that you need to commit to memory, keep for a cold, lonely night when it’s just you and your hand. You’ve never heard anything like it. You never imagined he could make a sound like it.

“Oh, gods, yes,” He damn near whines. His hand is suddenly at your back, and he pushes you down, bends you over until your cheek is pressed to the countertop. He fastens that hand at your shoulder, the other at your hip, and then he’s on the homestretch. “Oh, fuck!”

He thrusts, and he thrusts, and he thrusts — and then he goes still, his cock exploding inside you.

He grunts through every spurt, his fingers biting into your skin. You’re not sure you can move as your cunt continues to contract around him, draining him of every last drop. The counter and Cassian’s hands are the only things holding you up. If he steps away now, your legs may just buckle and drag you to the floor.

So in contrast to the wicked noises you were both just making, near-silence sweeps in, broken only by you both gasping for breath. You close your eyes, your brow furrowing. Press your forehead against the surface you’re currently slumped over. You can’t remember how to…how to exist outside of pleasure.

You are well and truly fucked out.

You’re almost content to just stay there, gripping onto the counter for dear life. But then Cassian finally slides out of you, pulling his seed with him. It drips down your legs, into your underwear. A shudder leaves you.

“Shit, that was—” Cass breathes a laugh. “Gods. Why have we never done that before?”

You manage your own weak, sated chuckle, and finally try to stand up straight. “Because friends aren’t supposed to fuck friends senseless.”

“No,” he agrees. Pauses. “But, like…it doesn’t have to make things awkward, does it? We’re both adults. Capable of sharing pleasure and…and carrying on as normal…”

Oh, bless his heart.

Non-committal Cass is now worried that a casual rearranging of your organs might turn into you falling in love.

“It’s not going to be awkward, Cass.” You snort softly. “I’m just not sure I can move.”

He stares at you. And you stare at him.

The laughter hits you both at the same time. It’s laughter of both relief and release. An acknowledgement that you both feel a darn sight better now than you did when you first walked in. The night isn’t weighing on you so heavily, now.

Is that bad? Perhaps.

But you can fuck people, too. Why…why should you regret it?

“Here.” Tucking himself back into his breeches, Cassian yanks his shirt off, handing it to you. “You can use this to clean yourself up. I’ll run you a bath.”

He turns, but you’re stopping him with a hand on his arm. “I don’t want special treatment just because we fucked. Just…be normal.”

One eyebrow quirks up. “I planned to run you a bath after I cleaned your cheek. We just got a bit…sidetracked. I’m looking after you, Y/N — as your friend.”

You study his face. He’s open, sincere — not pitying. Good.

“Okay.” You tug your hand away. “Thank you.”

He dips his chin, and then he’s strolling away again. He stops at the bottom of the stairs, turning back to look at you.

“I love you.” He says. “Just…don’t ever doubt that.”

You’re not sure you ever could. He’s one of the few constants in your life.

You nod, suddenly not sure you can make eye contact. “I know. I love you, too.”

He, too, nods. And then he disappears, and you’re listening to his boots thudding against each step of the stairs.

You wipe yourself down, tug your breeches up. Slump back against the counter. Drag a hand over your face.

You kind of just want to sleep, be unconscious, before the weighty thoughts begin to shove their way in again.

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

The summons comes early the next morning, before the sun has even arisen.

One of Lord Devlon’s cronies comes to pluck you and Cassian from the cottage, lead you to the Camp Lord’s study. Azriel is already there when you arrive.

You meet his gaze as you sit down, trying to look for some clue as to what might have occurred in Fenlaros after you’d left. All he seems interested in is checking you over, surveying you for what injuries you have as a result of the night before.

You’re not all too sure if your stomach is tender because of the punch you received to your gut, or because of how thoroughly Cassian fucked you against the kitchen counter.

 Probably best not to linger on that thought for too long.

You’re sandwiched between your two friends, waiting for Lord Devlon to actually grace you with his presence. Where Rhysand is, you can only imagine — probably dealing with his father’s wrath.

You glance down at a slight, sudden pressure you feel at your leg. Azriel presses his thigh into yours, and you lift your gaze to meet his.

“You’re not too hurt?” He speaks quietly.

You shake your head. “You?”

“I’m fine. All good, Cass?”

With his typical, swaggering nonchalance that will most certainly land him in deeper shit, Cass grins and stretches his arms above his head. “Just peachy.”

“Az.” You coax the shadowsinger’s gaze back to yours. “What happened with Kaeda’s father?”

Perhaps you’re being a tad dramatic, but you’d lain awake pretty much all night, brooding on the fact that you’d fucked Cass whilst Az was being subjected to the gods knew what. Your thoughts had snowballed into preparing you for Az to return beaten black and blue — or not return at all.

But he looks…fine. A little roughed up from the brawl, but otherwise fine.

He opens his mouth, leaning closer, and that’s when the door flies open.

The three of you stand up immediately. Tuck your hands behind your backs. Bow your heads.

Lord Devlon saunters into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. His footsteps are loud and purposed as he strides to his chair.

“Sit.” He says coldly.

You take your seats once more. The Lord’s eyes skate over the three of you for a pensive few moments, before settling entirely on you. It makes you uncomfortable.

“So.” He sits back. “Who wants to take a stab at why I’m not very happy this morning?”

The three of you keep your mouths clamped shut.

“I’ll give you a clue. It’s not so much to do with a piss-poor night’s sleep, as it is to do with the fact that three of my fucking soldiers,” his lip curls as he looks you up and down, “and their little plaything,snuck off to a rival camp and picked a fight.”

“She’s not our—”

“Did I give you permission to speak, Azriel?”

The ticking in Az’s jaw is slight, but it’s there, as he stares forward. “No, my lord.”

“Then keep your fucking mouth shut until I do.”

Your friend bows his head once more.

“Can any one of you explain why, exactly, you not only travelled to a rival camp without my orders, but why you then decided to stoke tensions between our two camps? Because, you know, that’s their territory. They were well within their rights to defend themselves and not one of them is being punished for it.”

None of you are sure whether he actually wants an answer. It’s best to just…keep your mouth shut.

“None of you have anything to say?” Devlon’s eyebrows flick up. “Fine. How about I offer you my theory? Because I’m seeing a running theme, here.”

You can feel his hard, intense stare bounce from Azriel, to you, to Cassian. Back and forth and back and forth.

But it always returns to you.

It might be in that moment that you realise there’s another layer to this, that you stupidly hadn’t considered. One that’s really going to get Devlon and his cronies grinding their teeth.

You’re female.

And it’s bad enough for males, his soldiers, to behave like this. But you? A mere, docile female? Someone who should be focused on housekeeping and finding someone to breed with?

A female stepping outside of her place is more or less considered a crime by Illyrians. And you don’t have a Camp Lord father to get you out of that very deep shit.

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” Lord Devlon addresses you. He knows your name. He’s a cat playing with a mouse.

You meet his gaze and nod. “Yes, my lord.”

“The blacksmith’s daughter.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Hm. The thing is, Y/N, I am here to raise armies. To oversee the training of their soldiers. As Camp Lord, that is my duty.”

You grit your teeth, bite your tongue. You hate the condescending tone that is so fucking typical of Illyrian males. It’s patronising. Offensive. He’s stating blatant facts and explaining them to you as though you are a child.

But you simply dip your chin in acknowledgment, because playing your part is the only way the three of you are getting out of here with a slap on the wrist.

“I cannot afford for my soldiers to be distracted from their training, or be seduced into making trouble for themselves.” The way he looks you up and down, in that moment, makes you feel oily. “I need my soldiers to be prepared. If war came tomorrow, do you honestly think I could send these two out onto a battlefield?”

These two. He says it with such dismissal, such contempt, that you find yourself balling your fists at your sides. He’s always singled your friends out, tried to break them. He may have to tolerate Rhysand — his father being the High Lord and all — but the tiny slither of acceptance he has for Rhys does not hold up for Azriel or Cassian. He sees them as useless. As nobodies. He’s waiting for them to lose their lives in training or combat so he can be rid of them for good.

It boils your blood.

Before you can stop yourself, your lip curls. “I think they’re two of the best soldiers in Illyria, and you’re damn well lucky to have them.”

Devlon sneers back at you. “I’m sure you would say that. If only to keep them in your bed.”

Beside you, the arms of Cassian’s chair creak as he squeezes them hard. “My Lord—”

“If either one of you speaks without my permission again, I will string you up by your balls. Understood?”

There’s a pause. And then both Cass and Az are sitting back in their seats. Offering quiet, affirmative responses.

“So.” Devlon focuses on you once more. Anger mottles his cheeks a reddish hue. “Considering every time these two land themselves in shit, you are at the centre of it, I see only one appropriate course of action. I will not have you leading them astray. Be it pointless fighting or the absolute colossal fuck up of last night, you are always the common denominator. That stops today. This instant.”

You stare at him. You’re not entirely sure what he’s getting at, but something lurches in your stomach. You swallow down a lump in your throat and grip hard onto your chair.

“As soldiers under my command,” Devlon’s eyes flit between Cassian and Azriel, “I forbid you — and Rhysand — from having any more involvement with her. You will not spend time with her. You will not speak to her in passing. You won’t even look at her. If I find out you do, you’ll regret it.”

All three of you shoot up in your seats, alarmed looks passing your faces. “You can’t do this.” You’re the first to spit.

“Oh?” Devlon cocks an eyebrow. “This is Camp Windhaven, is it not?”

“Yes, but—”

“I am Lord of Camp Windhaven, am I not?”

“Obviously—”

“Then I absolutely have the authority to give such orders, and thus, consider them given. Starting today, your involvement with my soldiers ends.”

“My Lord,” Azriel’s tone is pinched, panicked, “you don’t understand — she’s living with us right now. Her father kicked her out of his home. She has nowhere else to go.”

“Do you think I give a shit about her domestic situation, Shadowsinger?” The Lord snaps at him. “I’m here to oversee the training of Windhaven’s soldiers. Not to get involved in pointless family drama.”

“But where am I supposed to go?” You can’t help it — you slam your fist against the arm of your chair. “What am I supposed to do?”

“That isn’t my problem.” Devlon shrugs. He stands up, planting his hands on the desk between you. He leans over with a glower. “But you better run home with your tail between your legs and begin mending relations with your father, because if I detect that there’s even a hint of involvement with you and my soldiers, I will make you regret it, girl. Do not cross me.”

He tucks — no, slams — his chair under the table. It’s a dismissal. You’re not allowed to respond.

You’re silent, too stunned to think, speak, breathe, as Devlon strides to the door and rips it open.

“Get the fuck out, all three of you.” He orders, and you stand numbly from your chair. “You two,” he directs his attention to your friends, “I want your asses in the training ring immediately. Go.”

They don’t want to, you can tell. They hesitate, but ultimately, there’s no other choice. They have no authority. They’re mere soldiers in training. This is their career, their life’s work, on the line. They can’t meet your gaze as they file out of the door, and you don’t blame them.

“And you?” Devlon stops you as you try to follow, gripping onto your shoulder hard. He may as well pick you up by the scruff of your neck like a boisterous pup. “You’d better heed my warning, Y/N the blacksmith’s daughter.”

He shoves you out of the room. You throw your hands out before you slam into the wall.

“Stay. The fuck. Away.”

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[offthepages]

And so, the stars aligned. Pt 6

Azriel x Archeron!sister Reader

Summary: Lunch with Tamlin goes about expected. And Azriel is a jealous man. Warnings: None!

Ageless and Minors DNI

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Masterlist

Requests are open! a/n: I forgot to link the dress and stuff for part five- and maybe it's cringe to do that. But I am cringe, and I am free... and very bad at describing clothing. So here's the dress, and makeup

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After Tamlin, the ball was a blur. Truly, so much wine and dancing had your head spinning in a way that you had never experienced before. It left you feeling light as a feather, as giggly as a school girl. Much to the Inner Circle's delight because you found them hilarious. Cassian was making jokes left and right, making you laugh so hard you had to hold onto Azriel for stability. In your drunken state, you missed the way his gaze softened as he looked at you. Watching you with your sisters, which the only one who remained sober by the end of the night was Nesta. But Cassian drank in her stead. Leaving you Feyre, and him up to no good. However, Azriel hadn't let you leave his side since Tamlin had asked you to lunch. Even when you tried to lose him, his shadows were far more protective of you than he was. It was sweet to see the way the tendrils wrapped themselves around your waist and pulled you back into his side. You would look up at him with a pout. "Azriel!" You'd whine. "Tell them to let me go!"

He took a sip of his drink, trying to hide his smirk. "Sorry, princess. They have a mind of their own." He was even more satisfied when you looked at the shadows surrounding the two of you.

"You big meanies. I'm not gonna pet you if you keep acting up!" You drunkenly scolded. Azriel quirked an eyebrow when the shadows slithered away from your finger. Chuckling lowly, he wrapped his arm around your waist. And the Illyrian took pride in the way Tamlin's gaze hardened as he watched the two of you, He debated a gentle gasp as you reached one of your delicate hands reached up and touched his face. Pulling the shadowsingers gaze down. Watching you talk about something you just saw, learning that you were more observant than you let on.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

But now, he found himself arguing with a brick wall it seemed. “Y/n, I understand you have pure intentions but you can not sleep in my room.” He tried to explain softly, gently. His hands on your shoulders. Willing every part of him to behave because there was nothing he’d love more than to have you in his bed. Even just holding you for the night would make his heart soar. To be the last thing you saw, and the first thing.

“No!” You huff, arms crossed as you looked up at him. Rosey cheeks, your hair mused from dancing, your pout undeniably adorable. “I wanna sleep in here. Because you are nice, and you are warm! Mor snores!” You throw your hands up, loosing your balance as you flop onto the bed. “See the bed wants me here.”

Azriel laughs softly. Shaking his head, he knew he loved you. He really did. And normally he’d be flattered his mate was so sweet. But now, now it was an issue. Because he had to defy all of his primal tendencies to oblige your every wish. He scoops you up gently. Your head falling to his chest, lightly your fingers caress the tattoos of his that peak out. Azriel suppresses a shiver. “Come on princess. Let’s get you to bed.” He whispers, crossing the hallway. Earning snickers from the rest of his family. All of which he glared at, only stopping when he reached your room.

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The morning was spent nursing your hang over. Feyre, you and Cassian curled up on the couch being babied by everyone. Well- Rhys, Azriel and Nesta. Azriel had even gone as far as giving you some of the headache powder he got from Elian. You could have kissed him.

But now, you were back in your bedroom getting ready for lunch with Tamlin. Nesta brushing your hair, and she was much less gentle than Feyre. She didn’t care about delicately brushing out the snarls, she would just shush you when you protested. But eventually your hair had been braided into one large braid down your back. Mor placed flowers in the braid as Nesta worked on your makeup again. Dolling you up, despite your protests. “Stop wriggling, Y/n.” Nesta chides as she grabs your chin to force you to look at her. You huff, “I don’t want to look good for Tamlin!” You protest again. Trying to move away before Nesta forces you back. Her blue/grey eyes looking at you with an intensity that would have made anyone else wither.

“You have too. Looking like a goddess while you chip away at his frail little ego will just make It hurt worse. And that’s what you want. You want him to know that he can’t have you. But this is what he’s missing.” She explains, barely giving you time to recover as she brushes on a light pink eyeshadow, adding a golden shimmer on top of it.

In the end, you wore a simple pink gown. Something that was sweet, innocent. Like the princesses in the fairytales you read with Azriel. Your shoulders laid bare, the sleeves were short- frilly. The sweetheart neckline doing little to hide your frame. The front corset, designed with small intricate roses on it. You spun, the dress poofing upwards. You hated to admit it. But you would be happy to break Tamlin’s heart in it. In this dress you looked as if you belonged in the Spring Court. So to deny his offer? It be poetic. Nesta wore a simple gown with you as well, her’s a more diluted green. She’d looked out of place next to the vibrant colors of the spring court. But you and your sister descended the stairs, everyone waiting for you once again. You smiling softly at all of them. Azriel’s eyes never left yours. You could have killed him, and he would have thanked you. Truthfully. You looked like a day dream walking down the stairs. Smiling at them like you weren’t about to walk into the lions den. He would have followed you blindly anywhere. Gladly. With pleasure.

“Are you ready?” Rhys looks at you with a strained smile. You give a little nod.

“As ready as I can. I can deny him again right?” You anxiously ask Rhys, you knew he wanted an alliance with Tamlin. And your brother in law might be a snake sometimes, but you were almost positive he wouldn’t force you on dates. Rhys shakes his head, “No. You won’t have to see him again after this. Unless you want to. And if words fail you again, that’s why you have Nesta.” He gives a nod to your older sister. Nesta takes your hand and gives a little squeeze.

Smiling appreciatively up at her, you felt ready to have this lunch. Tamlin wouldn’t get to you.

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“You look beautiful, Y/n.” Tamlin bows, taking your hand and placing a gentle kiss on it. You have to stop yourself from recoiling at his touch, but the cooling feeling of Azriel’s shadows wrapping around your ankles again helps calm you. Keep you grounded, quickly flicking your eyes up to where Azriel told you he’d be- tucked away in the shadows of the garden. You smiled. The shadows gave you a gentle squeeze back. Azriel, already wanted to kill Tamlin. But seeing the way he made you recoil? It made his blood boil. The only saving grace for Tamlin touching his mate was the fact Azriel knew you wouldn’t be going home with him.

“Thank you.” You murmur as he leads you to sit. A small intimate lunch. Just his seat, yours and Nesta’s. You had to force another smile at him as you sat. “Your Court is lovely.” You speak gracefully. “I hadn’t expected it to be so lush when we arrived.” Tamlin smiled and nodded.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” He allowed the servants to come up and give you a plate of food. Small salads and sandwiches. All things that were light. “I suppose I have your sister to thank for that. After ruining my Court…and letting it go to ruin. I looked at it only to realize that I was still running it the way my father had. And I didn’t need to. So, I took control back and let myself rebuild.” He explains to you, and you can see the sparkle in his eye as he does. He was truly happy, and he meant the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m glad.” You offer, “I didn’t agree with her actions…but sometimes there is necessary evils that must take place for peace to prosper.” You give Tamlin your own gentle smile.

And conversation continues from there. Nothing out of place, or out of pocket. Tamlin even spoke to Nesta a few times, though Nesta just responded with pointed looks.

Azriel approved.

But all said and done, Tamlin was a gentleman. You could see how Feyre fell from him, how you could have fallen for him. But every time that thought crossed your mind, the shadows that curled around your ankle tightened. And at one point when you leaned down to try and brush them away- getting lost in your day dream of what life would be like here. They appeared as shackles. Reminding you what Tamlin had done to your sister. You didn’t finish your food.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed at the way you pushed away the plate. He noted that you’d have to eat more before you out to the ball tonight.

“You had quite a bit of fun at the ball last night, no?” Tamlin asked, looking at you over the rim of his wine glass. Your cheeks heated, looking away from him as you nodded. A small chuckle from him pulled your gaze back. “No worries, that is what the night was for. I’m just glad you enjoyed yourself. You got home alright?”

Nesta scoffs. “If you’re implying that we’d let her wonder your courts drunker than a skunk you’d be wrong.” You lightly kick her shin. “She went home with us, slept alone in her own bed. You needn’t worry about her maidenhood or anything of the sorts.” You felt your face heat again at her words as you shuffled uncomfortably in your seat. You felt exposed, embarrassed…you didn’t want to be here anymore. The feeling unknowingly being pushed down the bond. Azriel gritted his teeth, but kept quiet. Trying to push a sense of calm down the bond to you.

The cooling sensation of shadow washed up and down your leg. Gently trying to coax your fears down. You could have cried in relief to feel something so normal. But that relief was quickly taken as Tamlin stiffed. “I simply wanted to ensure she was safe. I implied nothing about her maidenhood. Nor do I care if it was intact or not. Feyre’s wasn’t.”

You felt a surge of anger from deep within. “That is my sister.” You say sharply. Glaring at Tamlin. “And my High Lady. Be careful how you speak of her.”

Tamlin’s eyes bore into yours as his nose wrinkles in disgust. “Tell me y/n. Would you require me to crown you High Lady?”

You felt the shadows grow still at his question. Azriel held his breath, if you had said yes? Did that mean you wanted to be a high lady? Something he couldn’t give you? Nesta’s eyes watching you intently. “I would require nothing of you.” You say simply, nodding your head to him. “Because I will not be with you- nor should a partner require another partner to value them. You shouldn’t have to ask for those things. If I truly mattered to you- and you say you have changed. Then making me a High Lady would be no different than seeing me as your equal.” You look to Nesta. “I wish to leave.”

Nesta’s mouth curls up into a smile. She stands and looks at Tamlin. “Thank you for your kindness.” Before offering you a hand, and you quickly take it. Not looking back at Tamlin. Azriel had never more proud.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As soon as you were out of ear shot from Tamlin, Azriel appeared. Taking you in his arms and holding you tightly. The shadows wrapping around you two, and from your place- buried in his neck you felt his wings wrap around you too. ”You did such a good job…” He whispers into your hair. He reveled in the way your shoulders unclenched and held onto him tighter. Your whole body practically falling into his, soaking up his warmth and comfort.

”I wanna go back to the cottage.” You whisper. Before you know it, your feet are off the ground. Moving through shadows as you winnow back.

Azriel doesn’t let you go. Bringing you back up to his room, in his defense. Nesta motioned her head to do so, so he figured she’d go fill in Rhys. Opening his door, he gently laid you on the bed. Going to back up and let you rest- but you reached out to him. “Don’t go…not yet.” You whisper as you look at him with pleading eyes. And he is a weak man. Especially after seeing you with another male today. He had no choice but to crawl into bed with you, tucking you under his arm as he runs his thumb over your temple. “Thank you…” Your voice is soft, your eyes closed as you relax further into him. Azriel prays to the Mother that you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He says quietly. Using the shadows to pull a blanket up and around you too. “I didn’t do anything.”

You shake your head, sitting up a little to look at him. “The shadows. They gave me strength. Reminded me that I wasn’t going to be free with Tamlin when my mind wondered. Your shadows gave me the strength to speak my mind. So thank you.”

Azriel smiles at you, cupping your cheek as he looks at you with a sincerity in his eyes. “My shadows didn’t give you anything you didn’t already have. You are strong Y/n. Don’t forget that.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Now, I can feel it in my old bones. You need a nap.” He pulls you down into him. Laughing quietly at his actions you settle in for a nap. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: The next part will have another part at the ball!! I wasn't sure if I should have added it to this part or not...but let me know what you guys think! If you wanna be added to the taglist- click here! taglist: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92 @lana08 @stained-glass-eyes0708 @oucereeng @persephonesalvatore @fightmedraco @juniperberriesaries @whatdoyxumean @harrystyke21 @tenshis-cake @5onedirection5 @bubybubsters @its-sam-allgood @natashachelsea @brieflyclassymortal @thecraziestcrayon @cherryinsalemverse @sourapplex @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @waggel36 @oucereeng @bunnyredgirl @kookie4life @mybestfriendmademe @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @mp-littlebit @caticorn61 @prettylittlewrites @lilah-asteria @thewulf @st4r-girl-official @nightsbite @nickishadow139 @dee-writes-smut @naturakaashi

#azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #nesta archeron #tamlin

[marvelsmylife]

We’re going to be ok

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: when word gets back to Azriel that you’re planning on leaving the night court after the kitchen incident, Azriel will stop at nothing until he convinces you stay and confesses why he’s been avoiding you.

A/n this is part two to Jealous Mate. I made a movie reference in this part. Five points to anyone who catches it and writes the movie I’m referencing.

*Correction* There are actually two references in this part. One is a movie reference the other is a book reference.

Part one

Azriel refused to be around you for two weeks after the kitchen incident. He was too ashamed that he just left without saying a single word to you. He knew what he was currently doing was making things worse, but he couldn’t face you after he heard you say you were giving up on him. It wasn’t until Rhysand called him into his office to scold him for his actions that he realized how badly he messed up: “Rhys, I know-.”

“No, you don’t know,” Rhysand cut Azriel off: “You avoiding your mate is causing nothing but problems within our inner circle. Do you ever plan on talking to her?” Azriel was so ashamed of his actions that he refused to speak. 

Taking his silence as an answer, Rhysand spoke up again: “Very well. Since you won’t give me the decency to respond. Then this news I’m about to tell you won’t bother you.” Rhysand inhaled sharply before adding: “Y/n is leaving the night court. She asked if she could stay at the day court with Helion, and he happily agreed. If you’d like to say goodbye to her, you better do it fast. She’s at the house of wind packing as we speak.”

The color drained from Azriel’s face at the news you were leaving the night court. He couldn’t believe that he had driven you to not only leave the home you shared but also drive you out of the night court entirely. “You can’t allow her to leave !” panic was laced in Azriel’s tone: “She belongs here with us, with me. I’m her mate, and I’m not allowing this to happen, Rhysand !! !”

“She has free will. She can do whatever she pleases. Let her go and let her live her life in peace.”

Azriel felt his chest tightening at Rhysand’s words. He knew Rhysand was right, but he couldn’t let you go, not when he’s yet to tell you how he truly feels about you. “No,” Azriel said firmly: “I’m not letting her leave. At least not until I talk to her.”

Not giving Rhysand a chance to respond, Azriel fled to the house of wind to see if he could catch you before you left.

Luck was on his side. Your smell lingered in the house when he arrived and immediately walked towards your room. He had no idea what he was going to say. He was never really good with words. Not bothering to knock, Azriel entered your room and noticed that more than half of your stuff was already packed. “Can I help you?” you asked while you packed your clothes. 

Azriel remained silent as he looked around and spotted something from the corner of his eye: “Is that?” Azriel swallowed hard when he noticed a pressed flower on your desk.

You looked toward where Azriel was staring and sighed: “The rose you gave me when I first moved in? Yes. Yes, it is.”

You were about to throw it in the trash when Azriel stopped you and took your hands into his: “Please don’t go,” Azriel begged: “I know I haven’t been a good mate, but I can’t let you go.”

“Azriel, don’t.” you said firmly: “You’re being mean.” There was hurt in your eyes when you registered what Azriel had said, and all Azriel wanted to do was comfort you. “You do not have the right to ask that from me. Not when I’ve tried to get close to you, but all you’ve done was push me away.” You tried to get out of his grip, but he only held you tighter. “Do you know how excited I was to meet and get to know you when we first met? I was so excited to share everything about my life and was eager to get to know you, but after the first week, you started to ignore me. I just wanted to talk, but you wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence while we live together,” you paused for a moment, trying so hard not to cry in front of Azriel but failed miserably. “Look, if you’re not going to put any effort into our relationship as mates, then I’m going to leave because being around you while you ignore me hurts me physically, mentally, and emotionally ! ! !”

It was Azriel’s turn to feel the way you’ve been feeling for the past couple of months, feeling rejected, and he’ll never forgive himself for making you feel this way for so long. “No! !” Azriel looked at you in disbelief: “I just- you can’t go. I’ve been avoiding you because I thought you were better off without me. You deserve better than me. I-” Azriel paused to contemplate if he should continue explaining. “I didn’t want to accept the bread you made with Cassian because if I did that would’ve meant you accepted the bond between us, and I didn’t want you to feel shackled to me for the rest of your life. But seeing you pack and saying you’re leaving makes me want to be selfish and tell you to stay. Stay with me and I promise I’ll be a better mate. I’ll eat whatever you make so I can accept the bond.”

“Azriel-“ you paused: “I didn’t and still don’t care about your past. You can’t allow your past to dictate your future.” Azriel knew you were right, and he was going to tell you when you continued: “Look, I’ll stay, but I’m not going to bake or cook you anything, not yet. You have to earn my forgiveness, and maybe then I’ll accept the bond in the future.” 

“I’m ok with that. I’ll wait a thousand years if I have to, just as long as I still have you in my life.” You found yourself crying again at Azriel’s words.

Azriel looked down at you and wiped away the tears that were running down your cheeks: “No more crying, especially over me,” before he placed a kiss on your forehead: “You’re ok. We are going to be ok.”

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

[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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[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 8

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Rhys and Cassian talk about Under the Mountain. The twins, Rhys and Cass meet the bone carver where Y/N sees someone unexpected, the IC goes out for dinner and two familiar faces come to greet Y/N. Cassian gets jealous.

Content Warnings: broad allusion to the S/A of Rhys. Mention of death by childbirth, unwanted touching from a stranger in a bar setting.

A/N: This is a chapter that i'm really happy about! I'm excited to share but this is also where I'm going to warn that we're no longer going to follow canon exactly. Big moments will happen in the same order but i'm adjusting time lines and some canon moments to fit what I want. I hope you liked this chapter as much as I do. I'm also close to 500 followers and that's crazy. Thank you for reading and giving my stories some love!

Word Count: 6.5

Unwavering Masterlist, ACOTAR Masterlist, Chapter 7

Rhysand’s POV

I opened the door to peek inside, and my heart swelled. The twins were curled up on the bed together Y/N’s arm protectively over Feyre. Their faces were so peaceful, not a worry on their features. I smiled and closed the door. Turning to walk away, I jumped as Cassian was leaning against the wall arms crossed, “Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, unapologetic snoop.” I flipped him off and he chuckled. “Everything okay?” His tone turned serious.

I smiled, “Yeah, they are sleeping together.”  I paused as Cassian raised an eyebrow, “I mean they are asleep on the same bed. Don’t make it uncomfortable, brother.”

Cassian feigned offence placing a hand over his heart, “Rhys, how you wound me so!”  I rolled my eyes, as my brother’s face grew serious, “Do you think they are going to resolve their issues?”

I tucked my hands in my pockets, “I think they have already begun.” I looked back at the door and could hear the two rustling in bed before they settled. I nodded my head toward my study. Cassian held his arm out letting me lead the way. When we got into the study Cassian sat on the couch. “Cassian.”

“Rhysand.” He counters his elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward, hands clasped together, his siphons gleaming in the fae light.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, “I have a confession to make.”

Cassian brows furrowed, “By all means, Rhys, leave me in suspense.” He chuckled his laughter died in his throat at my face, “Shit, what is it?”

“There is something about that night that Y/N defended those girls, I never told you.” Cassian gave me his undivided attention. I held my hand out and Cassian rose from his seat, tucking in his wings he gripped my hand, and I took him to that night:

Cassian.

This girl reminded me of Cassian. Even as Amarantha cinched her wrist together, Y/N kept her chin up, her eyes met mine noticing aware her twin was on my lap her head on my shoulder. My hand remained on her waist. Amarantha had Y/N pinned to her. It’s like I could hear him chuckle, “Where the hell did you find these two human women, brother?”

Breathe. I’m sorry Y/N, I cannot help you.

Those girls didn’t deserve to see the cruelties of this world just yet. Try to keep their innocence.

Cassian would have said something similar with that same stance that same glint in his eye. I gave her a nod, and for the first time in 49 years I could not reign in the memory of my brother or the hope in my chest of seeing him again. Maybe these two human girls would be able to break this curse. Then I can go home and tell him about her. I can’t afford to think that way and I chug the rest of my wine.

 “Eris Vanserra, please step forward.” My blood ran cold as the heir of the Autumn Court’s name came out that witch’s mouth. My gaze drifted over to the red-haired male step up as Amarantha forced Y/N to her knees and pressed her forehead to the floor.

I gripped her sister tightly as she began to wiggle, “Darling, dance for me, will you?” I whispered in her ear. She drunkenly giggled and got up to begin to dance. I could feel Y/N’s pulse quicken, Breathe. Through your nose. I could see she obeyed as Eris lifted her to her feet. I fought against gritting my teeth keeping my mask of cool indifference. I focused on Feyre as her hips swayed positioned right between my legs. My gaze drifted back and saw that Eris put a collar of flames around her neck and he was guiding her by a leash of flame. The crowd separated as he approached me.

Feyre spun and saw her sister and smiled, “Y/N,” she grinned not realizing her sister was in the grips of a viper and yet she still held her chin up high a challenge in her eye. Again, I could hear Cassian’s voice, “You need to keep her safe, Rhysand. Keep her alive so I can meet her.”

I pulled from the memory and Cassian sat in the chair across from mine, his face unreadable and his shields were locked up tight. “Cass, it was the second time I let myself think of you. The first is when she defeated the worm, and she gave a dramatic bow to the crowd as Feyre threw a muddy bone to Amarantha. When Y/N ran up to those girls I allowed myself to think of you and the hopes of coming home so I could tell you about them. Y/N did something dangerous without ever knowing.”

Cassian took a deep breath, “What was that?”

“Hope,” I lifted my hand and a decanter, and two glasses appeared I poured two fingers worth in both glances and handed one to my brother, “She gave me hope that we would make it out of this, that we would be able to come home. And when I dropped Feyre into her cell, I made it back to my room and cried. I cried so hard I vomited I let out 49 years’ worth of missing you, Azriel, Mor, even Amren.” Cassian chuckled, “This one human girl unraveled me all because she reminded me of you.”

Cassian smiled and gripped his hand in mine, “Well you did make it home, brother, and you kept you promise too spiritual me.” I snorted as he continued, “She’s wonderful Rhys.” He released my hand, and I watched as his eyes went distant, “Is it possible to fall in love with someone from the first time you’ve met them.”

I tilted my head, “What?”

Cassian sat up straight, flaring his wings, and his cheeks turned a shade of red against his tan skin, “What? Did I say that out loud, mother above.” He drinks the alcohol to the dregs and sets the glass down. “I enjoy her company. Is all I’m saying.”

I chucked, “Someone have a little crush, brother?”

Cassian leveled me with a glare, “Shut it, you prick.” 

“I mean, Y/N, is funny. Kind.”

Cassian interjected, “Extremely kind.”

I grinned slyly, “She’s also beautiful.”

Cassian exhaled and his face morphed into a lovesick teenager’s, “The word beautiful doesn’t hold a candle to what she is.” Cassian blinked and looked over at me. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” I chuckled and stood having this sudden feeling of being dirty I plucked lint from my shirt and Cassian’s brow furrowed, “You’ve been doing that a lot since you’ve been home.” There was an underlying question that caused me to straighten my spine. “You don’t have to talk about it, Rhys, but I am here, if you want to.”

He stood and walked out of the study leaving me as my thoughts drifted to those haunted

Reader’s POV

I could feel eyes watching me as I slept and I jolted awake, Feyre doing the same to see Amren at the foot of the bed. “Don’t you knock.” I muttered rubbing my eyes. The morning sun filtered in the room.

Amren threw an amulet onto Feyre’s lap, “This is on loan. I expect this to be returned.”

Feyre looked at the jeweled necklace and looked at the tiny female confusion on her face. “What is this?”

“It’s, what helped me get out of the Prison, girl, you’ll need it today.” With that she left. Feyre and I exchanged glances and I simply shrugged sliding off the bed.

“Y/N,” I turned as my sister slid out of the bed as well, “Would you come with us today? To see the Bone Carver.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Rhys purred as he leaned against the door, Feyre threw a pillow at him, and he ducked in time that it flew in the hall. Rhys smirked and tucked a hand in his pocket.  “Such a violent little thing.”  I rolled my eyes.

“You two make me sick.” I muttered at the same time Feyre asked, “Don’t you knock.”

Rhys looked at me, “Do you want to come join us today?”

I nodded, “Sure, whatever I can do to help.”  I walked toward the door, Rhys blocked the door, I crossed my arms.

“Want Cassian to come?” Rhys lifted a suggestive brow.

I pursed my lips, “He’s a grown male, he probably has other things to do.”

Cassian popped up behind Rhys, “It just so happened that Rhys cleared my Schedule, Princess.” He gave me a wink and I fought the butterflies flittering in my stomach.

“A group adventure it is.” I looked at Rhys, my smile falling as I noticed the dark circles sunk in his eyes and stars gone and he looked distant.  You, okay? I reached out into his mind.

Rhys met my stare, Never better.

Liar.

High Lords can’t afford to have breakdowns in the time of War, Y/N.

I snorted. Someone better inform the High Lord of the Spring that.

Rhys laughed and placed a kiss on my cheek, “You are something else, Angel.”

My face didn’t change. If you need to talk, I’m here. You need to heal too. War or not.

Stars flickered back into his eyes, and he nodded as I moved to get to my room. The sound of boots was the only indication that I was being followed. “Something I can do for your, General?” I didn’t bother to turn around as I asked the question.

His hand gripped my wrist gently, “I wanted to see if you were okay.” His eyes drifted from my face to my chest.  His face tilted as he gently pushed my hair behind my shoulder. I had to remind myself to breathe as he tugged the tunic to reveal the new tattoo there. “Well, hello,” he purred as his eyes flicked to mine, my toes curled, and I had to fight my arousal by his sensual tone. “This wasn’t here a few days ago.”

I took a deep breath and centered myself trying to ignore how him rubbing his thumb against my tattoo caused my whole body to thrum in response. “Feyre and I made a promise to one another. The tattoo appeared not long after that.”

Cassian nodded, letting the silence blanket the hall and I was able to take a good look at him. His eyes had a warm kind glow to them and being this close little flecks of green poked through, and one eyebrow had a slit going through where a white scar laid bare. His face had stubble on it as if he hadn’t shaved yet and I yearned to cup his face to feel it against my skin. My eyes drifted to his lips full and as tan as his skin. My mind wandered as I thought what it would be like if I pressed my own to them. What would he taste like. Cassian shifted eyes widened and I hadn’t realized how close our faces had gotten. I took a step back and cleared my throat, “I should probably get ready.”

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck and a blush fell onto his cheeks it made him look boyish, “Good idea,” his voice was husky and slightly strained, and he tucked his lower lip behind his teeth. He was beautiful in every sense of the word.

 I turned forcing myself to look away from him and headed to my room when his voice rang out, “Princess,” I turned my head back he opened and closed his mouth and opened once more, “The prison is cold make sure to bundle up.” He looked pained as he said it, almost embarrassed.

“Thank you, General.” I winked and continued to my room all the while settling the erratic beating of my heart.

***

Cassian was not lying about it being cold. Rhys had winnowed us to the side of the mountain where the cold air pierced my skin. I wore my leathers with fleece line leggings and a long sleeve tunic underneath, but my teeth were still chattering. Cassian shuffled in the bag he brought with him and pulled out his leather jacket. There were patches on the back that were able to detach when he wears it to accommodate his wings. The wind caused a few of the loose strands from his bun to fly into his face though as he approached me, he seemed unfazed by the cold as he held up the bag. “Here, Princess.”

I slipped my arms into the leather sleeves, and he raised the jacket to my shoulders. Warmth encased my upper body as his jacket falling to my knees. Cassian’s hands gave my shoulders a squeeze, “Thank you.”

Cassian leaned in close his warmth seeping into my bones as he whispered, “You’re welcome.”

We made to the entrance of the building and Cassian interlaced his hand in mine and gave it a comforting squeeze. Rhys was the one that broke the silence talking to Feyre, “Do not let go of my hand. No matter what you hear or what you see. Do. Not. Let. Go.” Feyre nodded.

Rhys turned to me. Not like you would want her to let go of your hand. I smirked as Rhys leveled a glare my way, the only indication that my statement got to him. “Same with you, Y/N. Don’t let go of Cass’ hand.”

I lift our entwined hands and open my hand up as Cassian’s still clamped down and go as far as shaking our arms causing the male behind me to chuckle, “I don’t think he would let me. If I want to.”

“Not a chance. Not here.” Cassian murmured.

“Amren-“a hand clamped over my mouth muffling the rest of my sentence and  I tried to wriggle from Cassian’s grasp fighting against how his body pressed against me makes me feel.

Rhys sighed, “We don’t mention her near or in the prison.”

Cassian released my mouth and I shoot him a glare. “Why?”

The General spoke this time, “The prisoners here do not take kindly to her escape. If they know we know here it could get messy, fast.”

“Next time just say that.” I punched his shoulder, “No need to manhandle me.”

He kissed my cheek, “Sorry, Princess, won’t happen again.” He leans in lowering his voice, “Unless you ask me to.”

Heat crept up my face as he straightened to his full height, and I tried to ignore how the words left a pool of heat in my belly, I punched him again, “Shameless flirt.”

Cassian laughed, “Keep it up, Archeron, and your punches could actually hurt me one day.”

I scowled as we entered the prison my humor dying as the darkness consumed us. The low fae lights didn’t help with lighting the path before us. Though Rhys and Cassian led us like they knew the place backward and forward.  I could feel Feyre’s tension as badly as my own as we turned this way and that. Every turn reminded me of the path Under the Mountain but before my mind could wander too far into those memories there would be a squeeze of my hand. Like the male beside me knew where my mind was going and wanted to bring me back to him.

After a few minutes we reached the cell of the bone carver. Feyre looked back at me, and I gave her an encouraging nod.  Rhys led her into the cell, and I stepped closer to Cassian our hands still entwined, and he curled his wing around me giving me extra warmth. We stepped inside and moved around, and I lowered my head finding my feet interesting.

Feyre and Rhys had begun their musings but the metallic smell from the power this creature possessed was making it hard for me to focus. I drowned out the conversation picking up key words. The book of breathings and Like calls to like but everything else was drowned out I tried to focus on Cassian’s hand in mine and how he was rubbing his thumb along the side of my hand. Back and forth back and forth, before I knew it, I was matching my breathing to the slow movements his thumb was making to center myself.  The cell fell silent as I finally adjusted to the cell.

A female voice flooded my ears, “Look at me Y/N Archeron.” I looked up and was taken aback by the female before me. She was beautiful. She had one hazel and one Blue gray eye that looked so much like Feyre’s she had long dark hair braided in a crown atop her head a few wavy pieces that strayed from the updo framed her face highlighting her pointed ears. Her tan skin was clad in leathers similar to the ones Cassian and Azriel wore. What really caught my attention was her wings, they too were like Azriel’s and Cassian’s broad and beautiful even when tucked tightly behind her. She smirked, “Step closer, child.”

I attempted to take a step, but Cassian’s hand stayed firm in mine gently pulling me back to him. I wouldn’t move back to him I wanted to get a closer look at the female, she had a slender face, freckles kissed her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She looked so much like Cassian, but then there was that smile and it looked so similar to the one my twin and I share. Was this a relative of Cassian’s?  She was beautiful.

Her laugh was boisterous, “Who do you see when you look upon me child?”

Don’t answer that. Rhys voice flittered into the spot of my shield for him.

“I don’t know.” I answered honestly.

You’re a great listener, you know that?  

Cassian once again gently tries to tug me back to him. As the Bone Carve paces like a wild animal in a cage, “I wonder, what secrets does the human Archeron twin keep. Tell me one secret, Y/N Archeron.”

“What do I get for sharing a secret with you?” I asked and tried to release my hand, but Cassian refused to let go.

“Oh, clever girl,” The females wings fluttered, “A secret for a secret then and as a sign of good faith I will go first.” She met my gaze, “There are ancient creatures that roam these lands, Legend states that they were extinct in the first war. They were not, they just went into hiding. They want to come out and play again.”

Rhys swore, and I looked back and saw Cassian’s face paled as he muttered, “Dragons.”

The female looks back at Cassian, “Indeed, Prince of Bastards.” Something made me bristle at the implication of the title and the sneer on her lips. She turned back to me. “A deal is a deal.”

Rhys stepped in, “No we’re leaving, your insight has been very helpful.”

He turned and my sister was made to follow, Cassan gripped my arms releasing my hand and turned me away but wiggled out of his grasp and took the opportunity of his mistake stepping toward the Bone Carver, “A secret of any kind?”

She smiled and bowed her head, “I am partial to the darkest secrets, but I will accept any, Y/N Archeron.”

“Y/N,” Cassian’s tone was laced with warning that I promptly ignored.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “I am responsible for the death of my mother.”

***

We returned to the Town house in complete silence it wasn’t until we were in the dining room that Rhys debriefed Azriel, Amren, Mor. About what the bone carver said about the Dragons and the Book of breathings. I just listened as they talked about half the book being at the summer court and the other half with the human queens. I could feel eyes on me, but I proceeded to ignore his gaze and focus on Rhysand.

“I want to keep this between us for now. I have a plan to test Carver’s theory that Feyre can sense these objects. Like calls to like but I will need a few days to do so. I’ll send a letter to Tarquin and see if he will allow us to make a visit there. That leaves the human queens.”

I mutter, “Nesta and Elain could help.”

Feyre nodded, “We could use their manor as the meeting point. They could be our Correspondence with them since they reside in the Human lands.”

“You both willing to go back and talk to them.” Rhys looked at me.

“You did give us the job as your human emissaries, Rhys. I’ll do what I must.” Feyre nodded in agreement.

‘Alright, send word to your sisters tomorrow and see if we can set up a time to meet. However, I think tonight we have earned off. Let’s go out to dinner.”

Everyone cheered, even Amren had a sly grin to her face as they exited to go get ready, Cassian, Feyre, Rhys and I stayed in the dining room. I met Cassian’s gaze his lips were in a tight line and his arms were crossed over his broad chest. He was stunned at my confession at the prison, but he didn’t say a word, he had just grabbed my hand and led me back out, holding it tightly to keep me grounded.  His eyes went vacant for a moment and when they went back to normal, he looked to Feyre and grinned “Feyre, let me escort you back to your room. Maybe that way I can talk you into fighting lessons. With me.” He held out his arm for her to take and winked, and my heart sunk. He was flirting with her. I mean I guess this was the first time I’ve seen him interacting with other women in the court. I had been so wrapped in my bubble that I never noticed that he was a natural flirt.

Feyre smiled and looped her arm in his and he walked out leading her upstairs. Rhys was facing the door looking out at Velaris, I pushed out of my seat, “What did you mean today?” Rhys asked turning to face me, “When you said you were responsible for your mother’s death.”

I shrugged, “What I said is what I meant, Rhys.” His brow furrowed. “Can we not talk about it? Please.”

Rhys sighed and walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, “Fine, but we have to talk about it.”

I pulled away, “Like how we have to talk about how Feyre is your mate?” His face paled as he dropped his arms. “I’m human, I’m not dumb, I noticed your behavior changed. She doesn’t know does she?”

Rhys shook his head, “No,”

I shook my head, “When did you find out?”

“When we said goodbye after we beat Amarantha.”

Shock rocked me, “You were going to let her marry, him…”

Rhys bit his lip, “I was going to respect what she wanted. I wanted her to be happy. Then she called out for help, Y/N, she was begging for anyone to save her. I felt it down the bond.”  

I nodded my head, and I cupped his cheek, “Don’t keep her in the dark forever, Rhys, she’ll hate you for it.” With that I walked to my room to get ready for dinner.

***

We arrived at the restaurant, and everyone was dressed to the nines, and I opted for black silk pants and a sapphire blue corset top and a leather jacket. Put my hair up in a ponytail and placed a matching sapphire blue bow and some comfortable slippers. I walked down and Azriel shared an amused look, “Well Archeron, may I say blue looks ravishing on you.” He kissed my cheek. It was then that I noticed I matched his siphons. Everyone laughed as a blush crept up my face and I glanced at Cassian. He looked bemused but still made sure to extend his arm for me to take to escort me to the restaurant though it was apparent he kept us a good distance from the shadow singer.

Even at the dinner table Azriel sat by the window and I was making my way to sit next to him, Cassian guided me to the end of the table on the opposite side. “Cass, he doesn’t bite.” I murmured.

Cassian pulled out my seat for me and gently pushed me in, “Yes. He does. And he is a sore fucking loser.”

Azriel snorts, “I’m sorry she chose blue instead of red, brother.”

Rhys buts in, “She is allowed to wear whatever she wants, in whatever color she wants. Just because she wears a color doesn’t mean she is swearing an allegiance to either of you.” The kind restaurant owner came and brought our food and handed us a goblet for Amren. “Thank you, Nicolette. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

The older female bowed her head, “Likewise, Rhysand. I hope everything is to your liking.” She looked to Feyre who was dressed in another radiant midnight blue Top and matching pants. “Its an honor to meet you Cursebreaker,” her gaze reached mine, “You as well Y/N Archeron. I hope you enjoy.”

Simultaneously Feyre and I said, “Thank you.” She smiled and left.

We all began eating and I looked over to Amren, “You don’t eat.” Not a question.

“Very observant, girl.” Amren snorted swirling the goblet in her hand.

“Are you not high fae?” I asked curiosity getting the better of me.

Rhys interjected, “She is in a way.”

“I do not know what I am completely, I did take form in a high fae body I chose this body.” Amren said in a tone telling me that that was all the information she was willing to give. I took a note and began drinking out of my own glass.

Azriel leaned his elbows on the table there was a mischievous glint in his eye, “Y/N, tell me. Did you have any lovers back in the human realm?” I choked on my drink; a fit of coughing erupted. A hand was rubbing my back and I looked to see Cassian giving Azriel a glare that if I were on the end of it would make me want to crawl out of my skin. Azriel didn’t seem phased.

“Just one.” I answered when I regained my breath. “Lover is a generous term for it though.”

Azriel quirked a brow, “Oh, why is that?” Feyre shifted in her seat uncomfortably by this conversation.

Before I could answer two tiny voices called out, “Y/N, Y/N.” I turned my brow furrowed in confusion as two small girls came running to the table and when I turned to face them, they leapt into my arms. Two little red-haired girls with tan skin tucked their heads into my neck. I rose, arms securing them as I moved off the chair.

The girls’ mother came toward us, “I’m so sorry. They saw you and they wanted to say hello.”

The two girls pulled away and met Y/N’s gaze and I gasped their green eyes shined bright and their red hair was not matted but curled and their tan skin looked healthy and gleaming. “Well look at you two. You have grown.” I smiled, holding both of their hands.”

Mor’s voice piqued, “You know them?”

One of the girls who was slightly taller, “You remember us?”

I smiled, “Of course I do.” She pulled them into a hug again and the two girls clung to her tightly. “I would never forget either of you.”

Their mom smiled, “I never got a chance to see you, to thank you for what you did for them.”

I met the mom’s stare with a smile of my own, “No thanks necessary.” The girls pulled away from me but still clung to my hands, “I’m glad you girls are okay.” I looked back up to their mom, “I didn’t realize you resided in the Night Court.”

“We were originally from the Autumn Court. I served for the Lady of the Court. Rhysand offered me a place to stay and a comfortable home if I wanted it.” I looked to see her gazing at Rhys with a smile and Rhys nodded his head, “I couldn’t stay in that court knowing what the prince did, so I grabbed the girls, and he brought us here.”

The girl that spoke before said, “We love it here!”

I smiled, “I’m so glad.” I leaned and naturally the two girls also lean in as if we’re telling a big secret “I love it here too.” The girls giggled in response, “What are both of your names? I never got a chance to be properly introduced. I’m Y/N.”

The social butterfly of the two smiled wide, “I’m Alexis, you can call me Lexi. This is my twin Elizabeth, but we all call her Lizzie.”

Lizzie gives a shy wave before biting her lip a bit. I beamed and I turned and point to Feyre, “Well what a coincidence my Twin is right there. That’s Feyre. I call her Fey.”

Feyre gave the two girls a small wave, and the two waved back enthusiastically. Y/N looks to the mom, “I’m Evangeline. Feel free to call me Evie.” I let go of the girls’ hands for a moment and walked toward Evie as she blinked away a few tears and gripped me into a hug, “I can’t thank you enough,” She turned her gaze to Rhys and Feyre and the rest of our table. “All of you, for your kindness.”

Rhys smiled, “The pleasure is ours.” The table all gave nods in agreement.

Lexi tugged on my pant leg, “Can we have a sleepover sometime?”

Alexis!” Evie scolded, “She is probably busy with working for the high-“

I interrupted her raising my hand, “For my two new friends,” I knelt to their level, “I would make the time. You just need to convince the High Lord. I do live at his house at the moment.”

Lexi and Lizzie ran to Rhysand and held their hands up, “Please, High Lord. Please.” I noticed that  Cassian and Azriel were trying really hard not to laugh as they saw their brother turn to into putty at these girls hands.

Rhys smiled, “Tell you what whenever, mom needs some time to get errands done, or would like to have an evening to herself you can come to my townhouse and spend as much time as you want with my family.”

“Including Y/N?” Lizzie asked quietly.

Rhys smiled widened, “Yes, including Y/N.” He gave them a playful wink and the two girls giggled and ran back to their mom.

“C’mon girls, let them enjoy the rest of their dinner.”

Alexis waved, and Y/N stands to take her seat, and she feels a tugged on her pants. She looked down to find Lizzie and her eyes lined with silver, and she blurts, “I want to be like you when I grow up.” She looked down sheepishly after blurting it.

I took a minute to process what she said, “What do you mean, Sweetheart?”

She looked up tears streamed down her face, “I want to be brave and kind and not afraid like you,” I could feel the emotion swelling in my chest and tears of my own were beginning to fall. I fell to my knees and pulled her in to a hug, and Lizzie erupted into sobs burying her face in her shoulder. I held out my other arm and Alexis ran into tears in her eyes too. Lizzie whimpered, “I was so afraid I had an accident. You were so brave, Y/N.”

“You were so brave.” I whispered, stroking their hair. I pulled away from them and made the effort to wipe both their tears from their faces. “I think you both were extremely brave. You both held your chin up so high going back to your mom. I was proud of you.” I looked at both girls, “I was proud of both of you.” I smiled and hugged them both, “And we’re here now. And we’re friends.”

“Forever?” Lexi hiccuped.

“And ever.” I promised.

I gave both girls a kiss on their forehead and sent them back to their mom who was smiling with gratitude. I took a seat in my chair watching them walk away, “So those were the girls you told me about.”

I nodded as I shifted back to face my friends, Cassian held out his napkin for me to grab and I graciously took it and wiped my eyes. “Yeah, I didn’t even know they were twins. Kind of poetic.” I chuckled as I felt the familiar callouses of Cassian’s hand on the back of my neck, that thumb rubbing soothing circles and I leaned into his touch. “Thank you, Rhys, for bringing them here and giving them a better life.”

Rhys held out his hand and I took it, and he grabbed Feyre’s hand and gave them both a squeeze, “They deserved it, as you both deserve a chance at a better happy life.”

***

Dinner came to a close and as we walked out in the crisp night air Mor linked arms with me, “I say we head to Rita’s anyone in?”

Cassian and Azriel agreed to join but it was Rhys and Feyre who both declined Amren already left for the evening. I smiled at both of them and waved before I was being dragged away to the bar.

The atmosphere of Rita’s was nothing like the taverns at the human realms, the music thrummed, and the beat could be felt on the floor there were various colored fae lights, Azriel led us all to a table and offered to grab everyone drinks. Mor sat next to Cassian, and I ended up at the end of the booth. I noticed how Mor laid her head on Cassian’s shoulder and he laid his head on top of hers giving her forehead a light kiss and that pang rang in my chest again. How had I not noticed that he is like this with everyone. Clearly he expresses love through touch.

 Azriel brought everyone a drink and a shot. I took the shot with fervor and welcomed the burn of the alcohol. Az sat across from me and quirked his brow as I also chugged the drink, he brought for me. This was going to be a long night.

A few drinks in and Mor was basically on Cassian’s lap. I tried not to gape, but it was hard as she kept whispering in his ear. He held her but his face was slightly bored, Az and I just sat and watched the people on the dance floor. His shadows swirled around my ankle, and I smiled.

“Excuse me,” I male’s voice interrupts my appreciation of Azriel’s shadows and look up to find a fae male, with pale skin and blonde hair smiling at me. “Could I bother you for a drink and a dance.” I looked him over his body was toned and I noticed that he had a tail that touched the floor if he were to extend it out. “I just couldn’t help but notice how you beautiful you were.”

I opened my mouth to refuse but Mor cut in, “She would love to.” Mor gave me a light push and I turned back to look at Cassian who seemed more interested in his drink as Mor nuzzled back into him. I gave the male in front of me a bright smile and took his hand.

We walked to the bar, and he said his name was Mark not even bothering to ask for mine, “So I’ve not seen you around before?” He purred in my ear as our drinks came. His tail brushed up my leg and I stepped out of its reach.

“I’m new in town.” I said shrugging.

“For being new in town, you do keep interesting company. The Lord of Bloodshed, The Morrigan and the Shadowsinger. You must have made some impression.” His tail pushed me closer to him, so he grabbed me by the waist. I pressed a hand to his chest, “Sorry, Babe. Sometimes my tail has a mind of its own. I nodded and fought the urge to roll my eyes. We continued our drinks in proximity, and he insisted we go dance. He placed a hand on my lower back his tail once again grazing my leg and moving to the under curve of my ass. The alcohol was settling in my system so that where his hands were didn’t bother me anymore and I let the beat of music take me away.

Mark wrapped a hand around my stomach and held me flush to his chest. “You are such a pretty thing,” He murmured in my ear. I hummed in thanks as his free hand gripped my throat lightly, to angle my head to his. I could see the lust in his eyes as they glanced at my lips, and he leaned in. There was a cough behind us.

We turned and Cassian stood there, ire was in his eyes and the object of that anger was geared to Mark. “Mind if I cut in?”

Mark had a look as if he wanted to say he would but thinking better of it he walked away not so much as a goodbye. His tail did manage to graze my ass. What a dick.  Cassian moved closer and gripped my hand and spun me around. He pressed me to his back my head meeting his chest. Both his hands entwined with mine and pressed me closer and calm washed over me. He whispered, “You look beautiful tonight.”

I smiled and shifted my head to see his hazel eyes now soften and his pupils were blown out. “Thank you, Cass.”

He spun me around, so he pressed my chest to his, and his toned arm snaked around my waist. His nose brushed mine, “I wonder though how you would look in red instead of blue.”

The alcohol made me bold because I grinned, “Hmm I wonder how Az would fee-“

Cassian growled, “I don’t want to hear his name out of that pretty little mouth of yours, Princess.”

“Whose name should I say?”

His lips were so close to mine, our breaths intertwining, as he huskily said. “Mine.”

Before I could press my lips to his, Mor tapped his shoulder, “We’re going home, fly me to my apartment?” Cassian pulled away and I instantly missed his warmth.”

“Sure.” He muttered before kissing my head, “Goodnight, Princess.” He turned back to Mor glaring at her, and she only gave him a saccharine smile.

Mor blew a kiss to me before looping her arm in Cassian’s and the duo walked out.

Azriel was beside me in an instant, “She’s a brat.” He murmured and pressed a hand on my back and led me out of Rita’s.

When we reached the Townhome I walked into my room and sat on my bed and looked out at the night sky, hoping to see wings and flashes of red on the horizon.

Chapter 9

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655 @azrielsmate3 @nebarious @tele86 @chelsiemp @fightmedraco @blackgirlmagicforever @fullmoon-94

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you #cassian imagine #acotar #cassian fanfic #cassian #cassian fluff

[luvontour]

❥ . . jealousy, jealousy > joe goldberg

- joe’s happy you’re making friends in london, until he notices the way that stupid writer looks at you.

joe’s hand settles on your hip as soon as the door closes behind him. it’s become a habit since your early stages of relationship. he simply follows as you say your hellos and press your cheek against other girls’ faces with loud kissing noises.

from what you told him, he wasn’t really interested in meeting your friends, if anything he thought of them as one of the many reasons he clung to you a little bit tighter every morning

“y/n, you made it!” joe watches as a peppy blonde throws her arm over your shoulder, not minding how the two of you were almost tangled together.

“hi! phoebe, this is my husband, joe” the blonde brightens up (something joe thought impossible) when you present him. he only nods with a small smile and shakes her hand, despite her attempts of hugging him.

she smiles “come, come. i have to introduce someone to you”

his hand burns into your side, fragments of earlier and your poor attempt of a quickie still in your head as the two of you follow after your friend(ish) to a secluded bar. where a pale, almost your height man sat, swirling his shot of whiskey in its glass. joe recognized him immediately. it’s rhys montrose, the writer nadia had been talking to him about earlier.

“rhys! y/n, the girl i had been talking to you about and her husband joe”

“it’s my pleasure” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. joe doesn’t miss the way his eyes roam you over, throwing the cleavage of your dress a longer stare, he watches you all over, probably imagining lewd scenarios only your husband was lucky to experience.

he wants to leave then and there, but he wants to give it a chance, for you. he can’t think of another reason as to why he would sit there and gulp through this guy’s staring and his always dismissed attempts at flirting with you.

he sees a perfect window when you excuse yourself from the group, something about the powder room, which you never get to, because along the way, he manages to sneak the two of you off to one of many guest rooms.

he knows you felt it too, the way rhyse was staring and making inappropriate jokes, undermining joe and your relationship, inviting you on many scenarios in which he wasn’t included, he doesn’t need anything other than his rough lips and kisses to express what he’s feeling right now.

angry, jealous, possessive? those were just a few of the feelings coursing through him as he moans into your mouth, caving and letting your fingers tangle in his hair and steer him around like a puppy.

“please” your plead breaks him, you look so pretty like this, everytime, even if you were worse than him, kinkier, dirtier, he adored having you like this, under his frame, blushed, sweaty and with your chest racing as if you had just gone running.

“i don’t know doll, what exactly are you asking me for?” his nose nips at your cheek and so do his lips, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin as he waits for an answer

“fuck me.” he groans when you whisper so sweetly. “please, i want you inside me”

“fucking hell” he struggles to pull away from you even slightly. “you just know i can’t resist when you ask me like that”

there’s some fumbling, but he manages to fish himself out of his pants, tucking your thin underwear to the side before he easily sinks inside you. the two of you make animalistic- guttural sounds at the feeling, and he can’t help when he says

“can’t believe that guy thinks he even has a chance” he chuckles against your jaw before nipping at it, and he just stares. at your furrowed brows, your parted lips. and he listens to your whiny noises and how needy you get for him, and he feels complete.

not as fulfilled as he feels though when he’s sure rhys has heard you, moaning his name over and over until you come.

“y/n?” there’s some incessant knocking, and a faux concerned man on the other side. “are you okay in there darling? you’ve been a while”

“y-yes. yes! im good rhys. i’ll be out in a minute, i think”

“is there anything i can do to help?” god, you wish you could see the two of you from afar. joe’s nibbling at your jaw and neck while your arms around his own keep you closer than ever, your fingers tangling in his hair as you clench your pussy around him. you can’t pretend you’re just touching up your makeup in there. you can care less if the man is waiting for a response, the way joe whispers against you both reassurance and degradations sends shocks of electricity to your poor and abused bundle of nerves.

“are you gonna come?” he chuckles “come on my dick baby, let him hear you. let him know he will never be inside you. that he will never make you feel this good. show him”

“fuck- joe. i’m so close, please”

“i know angel, i’ve got you.” almost on purpose, his hips slam deeper and faster, his thumb quickly presses back and forth on your clit and with his beard grazing against your neck it all becomes too much for you to take. and you’re soon shaking around him, biting his lip after a chain of profanities and his name that you hoped were masked by the music playing outside.

all of this, unaware of the encounter your husband was going to have just outside the door with the relentless writer who did in fact hear everything that just went down

#joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg smut #penn badgley #penn badgley imagine #penn badgley smut #you imagines #you smut #gif from emotional-emotion