#acotar fanfic
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Something Borrowed (Part 2)
Read part 1 here
Pairing: Azriel x Reader (Rhys sister)
Series summary: Rhys tells Azriel to back off Elain and find release at a pleasure hall. Instead, Azriel finds you, Rhys' younger sister.
Chapter Summary: Right after we find Azriel and Elain in a compromising position, Azriel tries to smooth things over only to drive you further away. Feelings escalate when Azriel sees another male touching you.
Word count: 5k
Series Warnings: MDNI 18+, ANGST, hurt/no comfort, smut (p in v, oral) no use of yn, nicknames, fighting, jealousy.
A/n: Thank you for all the love on part 1, I really appreciate all the comments, likes, and reblogs. This is part 2 of Something Old Something New. Please read that first, this ch continues right where we left off. I’m sorry it took so long to make this part. I’ve decided to make it a mini-series so expect 2 or more parts. It’s not over till I say it’s over. I'm a daydreamer, not a writer so if you see any mistakes that's how I dreamt it. Lol
Rhys clenched his jaw tightly at the scene in front of him. His brother, a broken shell of a male on his knees, pleading for a love that would never be his. “Azriel, my office now! The rest of you go back to your chambers,” he commands, jerking his head towards his office. Azriel stands, wings dragging behind him as he makes his way towards his inevitable demise.
Rhys enters behind Azriel, closing the door to his office with a wave of his hand. “How dare you disobey me. Not only was my demand about Elain ignored, but you went behind my back to court my sister and then decided to break her heart! I told you to go to a fucken pleasure house to get laid not to fuck my baby sister! ” Rhysand yelled, fury evident in how this neck strained from raising his voice. Azriel lowered his head in shame. “I should kick your ass right now, but your lucky Vi said not to, now sit. I’m not done with you yet.”
Rhys gestures to one of the armchairs that are placed in front of a very large bookcase. A round table sits between the two chairs, an intimate setting for friends to converse. Or for a High Lord to intimidate and test his guest. Azriel would know of such tactics, he’s been a witness to Rhysand's techniques.
Two glass cups with amber liquid are placed on the table, followed by its luxurious bottle. A bottle Azriels never seen before. Rhys catches his curiosity, “I hide the good stuff. This one's aged 50 years.” Azriel’s mouth waters. Of course, Rhys would keep the expensive stuff in his stash.
Rhys takes the seat across from his brother, his gaze piercing into him from above the rim of his glass. “Drink.”
Azriel eyes the glass in front of him. Temptation stared back at him in the form of delicious whiskey. He could really use a drink right now, to cure the hatred that he's brought upon himself.
He opens and closes his mouth, suddenly parched and wanting to soothe the dryness in his mouth.
“I’ll have some water.”
“Good choice,” Rhys hums in approval, and the house magically delivers Azriel’s water. Silence falls between them. The ticking of a grandfather clock is the only sound heard, counting down by the second. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Each male waiting for the other to break the silence. Azriel takes a sip from his glass, hands shaky as he brings the cup to his lips.
“Care for a smoke?”
Azriel chokes on his water, “sorry?” He questions wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, unsure if he’s heard correctly.
“Mirthroot, to ease the tension,” Rhys clarifies, indeed offering Azriel the drug that he smoked earlier, minus the hallucinogen. With a trick of the hands and some magic, the cigarette appears between Rhys’s fingers, bringing it to his lips, its cherry blazing red. He inhales. His chest expands with how deep he aspirates, holding the fumes within his lungs. Slow and calculated he exhales. Swirls of white smoke leave Rhys lips, landing directly into Azriels face. Its white tendrils carve through his wavy hair, coating each strand with its foul scent. A Lingering reminder of his mistakes.
Azriel swipes his hand in front of him, ridding the air of the smoke surrounding him. A slight cough erupts from his throat, “no, uh, I recently had a bad experience.” Azriel tries to joke, but it lands flatly based on Rhys' stone-cold expression.
“Azriel, what do you think your punishment should be for making my sister run away from her court?”
Oh, straight to it then.
“I do love her, Rhys. She's breathtaking in every way and I don’t deserve her.”
“No, you don’t!” Rhys bellowed, slamming his glass down on the table. “What. Is. Your. Punishment?” He seethed.
“Death. Because I can’t live without her, I deserve it knowing I’ve hurt her. That I’ve betrayed you and your trust. I’ve lied to you, taken your brotherly love for granted. I’ve killed for much less.” Azriel slouches in his seat, defeated but willing to take whatever his punishment shall be.
“You must truly love her then if you're willing to die. But I find that to be too swift of a punishment. Will torture suffice?”
Azriels eyes snap to his brother, a look of shock and slight terror in his hazel eyes. This wasn’t his brother anymore, but the words of a High Lord. A cunning, cruel High Lord.
Azriel doesn't say a word, he simply nods. Accepting his fate.
“Very well. You will watch over my sister. You will shadow her every move, her every outing. You will not speak with her or make yourself known. You will observe her interactions with other males. If she happens to love someone else then you will witness their beginning, middle and end. You will endure her loving someone else while she falls out of love with you. That will be your punishment. If you love her, truly, you will see her happy, even in the arms of another.”
Azriel swallowed the knot in his throat, shoving down the emotion that was a breathds away from coming forward. His eyes failed to meet his High Lord as he took a moment to process the terms. A slight sheen was coating his forehead, heat climbing up his spine at the thought of you with someone else. Clenching and unclenching his fists, his nails dug into his palms, creating half-moon shapes on his rough skin.
He did want to see you happy, and in love. You deserved it more than anyone he knew, but not with someone else. Azriels mind flashed back to every tender moment you two shared. Every soft touch under the table, away from prying eyes. Each stolen kiss when the two of you were last in leaving meetings. Morning snuggles after a night of intimacy before he snuck out of your bedroom. Flying together under the stars, in the middle of the night when the rest of the Velaris was sound asleep. He could keep those moments to himself, call upon them when he missed you. It’ll break his heart watching you fall out of love with him, but that was the whole point. And that's what Rhys meant by torture. It would happen slowly, painfully peeling the layers of his heart back piece by piece till nothing remained.
His refusal was on the tip of his tongue, “I can’t….” He shook his head, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. Letting out a shaky breath, “can I at least apologize without an audience, before I begin this punishment?”
Rhys nodded and flicked his wrist, dismissing his brother.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Azriel knocked on Elains bedroom door, determined to explain himself and confront her.
Her beaming smile when she opened the door caught him off guard. Was she happy? Happy for his misery?
“Hi Az,” she smiled wide and stepped aside to let him in. “No, I don’t want to give the wrong idea. I’ll be quick.” Azriel sighed, running his hand through his tousled hair. He winced as Elains scent off his fingers made its way to his nose. Reminding him that he needed to shower before he spoke to you. “Elain, I’m sorry for-”
“I’m not” she interrupted, her doe-like eyes staring up at him as she stepped closer. Her chest inches away from pressing against him. “The only thing I’m sorry for was the interruption and not bringing you to completion. I liked doing it, I wanted more,” she confessed, attempting to close the distance.
“What the fuck Elain!” Azriel's voice boomed as he jerked back, putting distance between them, hoping to get his point across that he did not reciprocate her feelings. His face twisted in disgust at her scandalous behavior. A side of her he had never seen before. He pointed his finger at her, “stay away from me.”
“You said you loved me.” Elain gulped, a tremble in her meek voice.
Azriel lowered his face to meet hers, eyes red with anger and unshed tears for the situation she put him in. “Those words were not meant for you, I feel nothing for you. And definitely not love. You know I adore her, you heard me tell her in the library and you still took advantage of my inebriation.”
“Az, I’m so sorr-”
Azriel lifted his hand, silencing her apology. He shook his head, upper lip curled in a snarl as he looked her up and down. Not even her beauty would mask the bitter taste she left in his mouth.
~~~~~~~
It was late when he finished speaking with Elain, yet every nerve in his body wanted to find you and apologize. Fix the turmoil he had created and start new. He knew it was better for you to sleep on it, let bygones be bygones. First thing tomorrow he’d reach out and smooth things over.
Azriel had been staring at your side of his bed for hours, running his hand across the empty space. He couldn't sleep without your warm body cuddled next to him. Or your soft breathing fanning across his chest. Your very soul had made a home within his heart, and he foolishly never bothered to secure the doors to keep you safe and nurture your love. You weren't a bird to be caged, but he sang your favorite song and each night you’d perch on his arm and stare into his hazel eyes with a look of love and admiration. Azriel was too scared to return the gaze. Too scared to lose the only person that brought him laughter and joy.
He buried his face in your pillow, inhaling the subtle scent of your hair that still lingered. A silent sob escaped his lips. It had been too long. He tried again, inhaling deeper, searching for those notes of magnolia and rose. Gripping the sheets tight in his fists, Azriel let his tears fall freely; your scent was fading. Loneliness followed him to bed that night. The cold of the night, a blanket holding him till he fell asleep. His heaving chest rocked him faster to the nightmares that would now plague him.
~~~~~~~
You sat in the lower levels of the library, the darkness, a familiar friend that brought you company in your solitude. The hum of Bryaxis slumber filled the air, a solemn soundtrack to accompany the tears that rolled down your cheeks. Sadness dotted the pages of the book that sat on your lap, rippled and wrinkled from the volume of your cries.
You could no longer read the pages, vision blurred and hazy. The more you researched the more it became a reality and in truth, you couldn’t stomach the thought. You’d have to visit Helion for clarification. How to undo or break it off before the other end sna-
A gentle shadow wrapped around your wrist, leaving a cool phantom kiss on your knuckles. You summoned a pocket of darkness and quickly sent the book away in a puff of black mist.
Azriel stepped out of a dark corner, concealed in the shadows like a true spymaster. “Love, I’m so fucking sorry. Please, forgive me,” he begged, as he took slow steps towards you.
“I know where I fall in your list of priorities, Azriel. You followed Rhys into his office like a loyal dog, and after that, you went to Elain and now you're here asking for forgiveness?”
Azriels brows furrow, questioning how you knew when you ran out of the house. “Your shadows,” you reply, already knowing his thought process- it seems they’ve betrayed their own master in favor of you. “They’ve told me everything. What you did with Elain and what you did after.”
“Did they tell you how much I love you? How much I crave you?” he cooed softly.
You shook your head. Those words were everything you wanted to hear ‘I love you,’ yet as your head moved side to side, you weren't sure if it was because you didn't believe the words or because It was too late. You wanted to believe him, fall into his arms, and easily forgive.
But your breathing quickens as your memory takes you back to last night. Azriels head thrown back as his hips thrust into Elains mouth. The pleasure that you hoped only you brought him, was written on his face; from the warmth of another female's mouth.
“Forgiveness? I can’t give that to you, not now. Not when every time I close my eyes all I see is your betrayal. All I hear are the words that I longed for mixed with the gagging of Elains throat as she took your cock down her mouth. I’m going to need time and space to forgive you. If the time ever comes.” You look to the ceiling, eyes stinging as you try to hold back the tears, your brave face faltering in vulnerability.
Azriel kneels in front of you, begging for your eyes to meet his. “I’ll spend forever apologizing and when you're ready to forgive me I'll be here. I’ll always be here, as long as it takes.”
“I heard what you said to Cass. That I was a mistake, and a fucking rebound,” you sniffled, fighting back the tears that once again tried to break free from your waterline.
Azriel doesn't miss the way you bite at your lip, the furrow between your brows. He's hurt you. Made you feel inadequate. You had always felt not good enough. Not good enough for your father, your mother. Not good enough to become High Lady of the Night Court.
Once Feyre and her sisters came into the picture you had no place. Feyre became High Lady, Rhysands equal. Not you. Not his flesh and blood. And now Azriels words cemented that feeling. You were the doormat of The Night Court, beloved by its citizens but stepped on by those that mattered to you, and that hurt more than you could bear.
“That's not what I meant! I wanted… I want to do things right. I want us to be together, finally. No more secrets, no hiding. It was a poor choice of words, and for that I’m sorry. But you are not a mistake. If you think you are, I'll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you're not.”
He reaches for your hand to offer a comforting touch. To soothe the doubt within your heart. If anything else, to touch you one last time and caress the smoothness of your skin.
“Don’t touch me. Not with those hands,” you hiss, jerking your hands away and crossing your arms over your chest. A deep sadness settles over you, knowing the hurt you've caused with the double meaning of your words. You knew it wasn’t due to the scars, those hands had been touching someone else. Bringing another female to climax not even 24 hours prior.
It was that single sentence that broke the spymaster. An aching pressure was felt in his chest, growing into a mass of the insecurity he once had. He couldn't hide the quiver in his bottom lip or the way he felt his stomach cave in itself. You didn’t want him to touch you. His hands were now tainted, dare he say more now than ever before.
A soft cry pushed past his lips as the dam holding his composure finally broke. He stood up and turned his back to you. Wiping away the tears that continued to fall. You quickly followed, itching to place a hand on his shoulder, soothing the turmoil within him.
Your caring nature screamed for you to comfort him and apologize. Causing someone's pain wasn’t in your character, a stark difference from most of your family. But you retracted your hand, and wrapped them around your middle, holding yourself together.
“Do you really hate me?” Azriel whispered as he pulled out his gloves from his back pocket, sliding them on in hopes of hiding the repulsion you felt towards them.
You hesitated for a moment if revealing the truth would change anything. If it would alter the path of your relationship into one that was worth fighting for. But there was no Azriel and Vi, so you’d tell him the truth.
“I hate the way you make me feel. I hate that you embarrassed me in front of my family. I hate that you can make me laugh and cry on the same night. Most of all I hate that you didn't choose me.” You end on an exhale, rubbing your arms up and down, attempting to soothe the heartache.
“This is it then? You’re just giving up on us? Let me at least fix this mess I’ve made. I promise I’ll do better,” he pleads, running his hands through his hair, lightly pulling at the root.
You close your eyes and release a heavy sigh, “There was never an ‘us’ Azriel. As much as I wanted there-
“I want ‘us’ now,” he interrupts, closing the distance as he cups your face between his gloved hands. “Please, love. Give me this one last chance.”
Hazel eyes bore into yours pleading with every ounce of desperation in his voice, “please,” he breathes, gently nuzzling your nose with his. The puff of his breath cools the moisture on your lips, a chill that weakens your knees and for a moment you think to give in. It takes every ounce of control for you to wrap your delicate hands around his wrist and pull them away from your face. “I can’t do this,” you choke, shaking your head, trying to hold back the knot of emotion lodged in your throat as you rush past him, wiping at the lonely tears that have breached your waterline.
His happiness was fleeting, running into the arms of another. Except you didn’t. Not yet, not so soon. That was the difference, he realized. Where Azriel drowned in sorrow the moment you first left, his pain lingered on. Holding onto the pain meant; holding onto you. Holding onto what you once were. Whereas You faced the feeling head-on. You talked about what troubled you, about him, through the pain in your eyes and the wobble in your voice.
No matter how painful it was to relive, you pushed through. Felt deeply and wholly, head first into the unknown and you always managed to stay afloat. It scared him, how open you were with your feelings. Heart on your sleeve, willing to give and give. It was easy for you to love, to feel. And if you spoke of your sorrow so openly, then you’d heal faster and surely fall out of love just as quickly or worse forget him altogether.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Feyre was the one to scold Rhys for his actions towards his brother. The cunning High Lord indeed had a trick up his sleeve. One that would ensure Azriel had your best interests at heart. Rhys knew all too well how loyal and dutiful Azriel was to him and he wondered how far that loyalty ran. To what end would he go to please his High Lord? Rhys knew sending Azriel to spy on you was invading your privacy. And that would only anger you if you knew. Rhysand hoped though, that Azriels love for you was stronger than the loyalty he held for his High Lord. He was wrong. Azriel took the punishment without thinking how it would affect you. How following your every move would make you uncomfortable and you’d possibly resent Azriel for agreeing to such a thing.
~~~~~~~~~
The next few days passed in a blur. You had avoided the Inner circle at all costs, not quite ready to comment on the love triangle that unfolded under their nose. You tried to continue your work in Hewn City as you had been for centuries. Although the High Fae preferred you over Rhysand, you were finding it difficult to sway certain policies with Keir. You were a brilliant light in Hewn City, creating an education system that opened their eyes to diversity and understanding amongst their people. They no longer detested lesser fae, a tradition that had been extremely difficult to break. The residents were now free to travel out of the city and some even enjoyed Velaris. All the work you had done was more than Rhys could expect, yet you still felt as if you lacked purpose. It then occurred to you that perhaps you could fulfill that purpose in another court.
You winnowed back to Velaris instantly, running up the steps of the house of wind towards Rhysands office. Excitement in each step as you imagined a new opportunity at your fingertips. One that puts space between your fractured relationship with Azriel as well as a chance to step out of your brother's shadow and into your own. As soon as you opened the door to his office you stilled-causing the person who was trailing behind you to stumble into your back. Azriel straightened, careful not to touch you. “Apologies, I,” Azriel narrowed his eyes at the guest seated across from Rhys, “who are you?”
“Kit!” you blurted out, bouncing to him and embracing him in a crushing hug. Kit wraps his arms around your waist as your hands clasp around his neck. Azriels eyes zero in on where Kit’s fingers dig into your sides, noticing the small caress against your skin. And how he’s pulled your body so tight against his, relishing in your radiate beauty. Or the way his chest expands as he inhales the scent of your hair. “Good to see you again Princess. I was just talking to Rhysand about a proposition.”
Kit’s gaze lands on the Shadowsinger, “ forgive me, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Kit, son of Kallias and Vivienne of The Winter Court.” He extends his palm in a friendly greeting towards Azriel. Ever respectful and kind, just as an Heir should be. Azriel runs his eyes over the Princeling, scrutinizing every inch of the male; from his snow-white hair to his pompous pale blue shirt. Even down to how costly his shoes must have been. Seconds passed and Azriel just stared the Prince down, a challenge in his deadly eyes.
“Please excuse my spymaster, Azriel, he's recently gone through a break-up.” Rhysand shoots a glare at the Shadowsinger with a look of disappointment.
A muscle feathered in Azriels jaw. He didn’t like this, not one bit. Kit touched you. Touched what once belonged to him. His shadows curled around his ear whispering all the ways Azriel could kill him. He saw the look in his eyes, longing and desire. Rhys no doubt divulged that break-up comment to open the doors for Kit to swoop right in.
Your eyes drop to the floor, shifting on your feet uncomfortably. Tension in the room doubled as the silence filled the awkwardness.
Kits' attention shifted to you. Noticing your downturned lips and slumped shoulders. Things must have gotten worse between you and Azriel. His icy blue eyes snapped towards the brooding male. “How unfortunate, that when you looked at her you did not feel cauldron blessed to have her. In that case, she must not have been yours to keep,” he pulled you close around the waist, “hopefully she’ll be another males blessing.” Kit smiled down at you, his dimples deep and adorable. You couldn’t help but melt into his side, his touch offering a comfort that you desperately needed.
A dangerous growl ripped through Azriels throat. He rolled his shoulders back, craning his neck from side to side, cracking the tension in his bones. The loud pop of his knuckles rang in your ears as Azriel flexed his fingers into a fist. You’d seen this rage in his eyes many times; right before hand-to-hand combat in the camps.
You quickly glanced at your brother, pleading mind to mind. "Stop this, they’ll kill each other.” Rhys sat back in his chair, legs spread wide and relaxed, "I’ll bet you all the jewels in Velaris Azriel breaks that pretty boy in two."
“Watch your mouth!” Azriel seethed, as he stalked forward, a predator hunting his prey.
Kit moved you to stand behind him, shielding you with his body. He did not back down from confrontation and did not cower. A fighter with words that will knock his opponent where it hurts the most. For wounds heal but poisonous words rot from the inside out. Latching to the mind to burrow and breed the thoughts keeping the nightmares and failures alive.
With every drop of ferocity that flowed through his veins, he struck at the jugular. Pouring salt on the wound of Azriels inferiority complex with malicious intent to hollow him out. “No Shadowsinger! You’re no Prince, nor are you a High Lord or King of any Kingdom. You do not own property and you are not wealthy. You offer nothing to a Princess but anguish and a filthy cock that's been between the legs and mouths of cheap women. You survive by the scraps your friend gives you out of pity for being a bastard born. It is you who needs to watch your tongue. It is you who needs to remember your place.”
Azriel's face was unreadable as he took the insult with his head held high. His breathing turned rapid, with every second that passed. Azriel wanted to wipe that smug look off the princeling's face and scrub the floor with his perfect teeth. Break every finger that had touched you, gouge out the blue eyes that had fantasized about you.
The second Kit took his eyes off Azriel to gawk at you. Azriel pulled Kit by the collar of his shirt, holding him in place as his hammer fist connected with his jaw over and over again. Adrenaline flowed through his body, as knuckles met solid ice beneath the flesh and blood of the heir. Blood sprayed Kit's shirt as a cut splayed open below his eye, most likely from Azriels rings. Kit's head bobbed around lifeless, blood slipping down the corner of his mouth. Azriel couldn’t stop the onslaught of his attack, as he continued to break the heir's nose with a resounding crack.
“Azriel stop!” you screamed, throwing your fist at his back, pulling at his shirt in an attempt to stop the assault. Azriel tried to stop but Kit's crimson smile taunted him each time his fist landed against his pale skin, enraging him more.
“Shit!” Rhys scrambled out of his chair, using his dark power to throw Azriel off the Prince and into the farthest wall. Crashing to the ground Azriels vision cleared, his heart sank at the image of you on the floor cradling the bleeding Prince in your arms, tending to his battered face. “Vi, I’m so sorry I.. I didn’t,-”
“You brutish Illyrian bastard, when will you stop breaking things?!” You looked at Azriel with glossy eyes and blood that wasn't yours smeared against your bosom.
“Pack the rest of your bags sister. You’ll be living in the Winter Court for the foreseeable future. Re-shaping their crumbling Agriculture and stabilizing their infrastructure for future prosperity. The work you’ve done in Hewn City is remarkable, I’m sure you’ll do great things for Kallias and Vivienne. ” Rhys gaze never left Azriel as he delivered the news to you.
‘I’m sorry Az. This was the proposition brought to me today. Vi needs this, she's no longer happy here. And as her brother, I have to do what's best for her.’
Rhys saw the tears well in Azriels eyes. If he hadn't been shattered to pieces before, then this would disintegrate him into ash. Left alone to wander the skies aimlessly, letting the wind tousle and puncture him as he reached for the sun's brightest ray of light.
“Take a good look at him, Vi, He’ll no longer be allowed in The Winter Court after today's attack,” your head whipped from Azriel to Kit, “My father will ban him from ever setting foot on his land again.” A sly grin crossed Kit’s face, victorious in his plan, “Don’t worry shadowsinger, we’re just borrowing her and I promise I’ll keep her safe.” Azriel snarled as Kit grimaced, pushing against your chest for your comforting touch.
He’d fallen into Kit's trap so easily, allowing his anger to blind him from his true intentions. He didn’t even raise his hand to deflect the blows or bother punching back. He took the punches and played victim, the scheming ice Prince. He knew how it looked. The eloquent Prince who had a future and armies at his beck and call.
A Court that he would one day rule for centuries with a palace to call his own, a throne and crown made of diamonds and sapphires. A Night Court Princess turned High Lady to warm his bed and give him Heirs to sit on his throne. Azriel couldn’t offer you any of that. He was a bastard-born Illyrian who tortured people for a living. You deserve a fulfilling life full of happiness, laughter, and love.
You were leaving because of him, and he decided then, that he wouldn’t stop you. It would make him sick, but he’d survive and the sun would rise one day. The future he dreamed of was slowly fading to black and he couldn't imagine a world without you, but you were leaving. He couldn't think of a way to stop the bleeding or to fix what he broke. He couldn’t hold you back. You were a princess, when you were meant to be a queen.
“Throw me in the prison Rhys I don’t care, but if I have to watch her fall in love with him, by the God’s he’ll die by my blade before he lays another hand on her. Punishment be damned” Azriels words pierced through Rhys mind like a violent storm, destroying everything in its way. Rhys chuckled, grinning like a madman towards Azriels words, “there you are brother.” He stretched out his hand to help Azriel get up off the floor, ‘I know now that you love her, but she still needs space. Please respect her decision.’
Rhys jerked his chin towards the door. “Now get out.”
Azriel walked towards the door, looking over his shoulder for one last glance at you. Even with red staining your face, you were still the most beautiful female he had ever seen, yet he took every moment with you for granted. The cauldron was either cruel or he had terrible luck. How is it that his first and ever love would ruin him? How was he to move on from this? He realized too late that he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. You had completely shattered his heart and soul, taking the bleeding organ in your hands. “Be happy, love,” he spoke softly, “and for what it’s worth, I have always loved you.” You saw a lone tear run down his cheek as he turned and walked away.
Part 3 coming soon.....
A/n: Thank you for reading.
Taglist: @fuckthatfeeling @celtic-shadow-wolf @crazylokonugget @leyannrae @rehua @readychilledwine @ellievickstar @siriusblackssun @saltedcoffeescotch @b0xerdancer @tothestarsandwhateverend @anainkandpaper @em-marlenesversion @lilah-asteria @mybestfriendmademe @rogersbarnesxx @nayaniasworld @sam-san-sam @yeahimcrying @olive-main
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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 15
Azriel x Reader Fic
Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.
Find other parts here: Master List
To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.
Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.
Word Count: 4.7k
Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.
I drew inspiration for the story of the mating bond from the song "The Origin of Love" featured in the musical "Hedwig and the Angry Inch." Whenever the topic of the mating bond arises, this song comes to mind, and I extend my heartfelt gratitude to its creator. It never fails to move me to tears, and I am deeply thankful for its presence in my life. If you'd like to listen to the song, here's the link: The Origin of Love
Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.
As the cabin continued to be repaired, you found more time to wander into the woods, venturing far enough to need a tent, which you packed up and camped overnight in. About a day and a half’s walk from the cabin was a small village where lesser fae lived. Though small, it teemed with life, and the fae welcomed you warmly. None were familiar with the cabin you now called home, but they were eager to help with supplies to fix it up. An older fae female named Bettina, with long, flowing grey hair braided with flowers, traded you vegetable sprouts for an afternoon’s work in her garden. Another young woman with sunburnt cheeks and a babe strapped to her back traded you new fabrics for your collection of books.
Mortus, the village craftsman, was more challenging to trade with. He wanted nothing you had, but he was the keeper of glass panes and treated wood planks. He was an older fae male, his face weathered from harsh winters, yet he retained the youth of someone who had spent his life bathing in lakes and galloping through meadows. Knowing you couldn’t carry much through the woods, you promised to return with something of value to trade.
Returning home with your new items, you dropped them in the cabin, which remained untouched since you had left, and parsed through your bag. You found a set of hunting knives, many much too large for your purposes. The serrated one left your stomach in knots as you pushed out the memory of Anthea’s death. You wrapped them in their leather bindings and set back out to trade them. Mortus was happy with the trade, and upon your return, he packed a mule with the items you had requested. He threw in the mule because you had baked him five different breads with the fruit from the nearby bushes. He noted the mule was old and worthless, but you didn’t mind the company. You lovingly named him Clover, as he seemed to love munching on the leafy greens for hours on end. Though the day-and-a-half trip took three days due to Clover’s stubborn need to stop at every possible water source, you didn’t mind the company.
While you despised the life you had lived in the mountains, you didn’t mind the skills that came with it. You knew how to fix and mend without missing a beat, maximizing your use of nails and learning to use tree sap to seal wood slats. Within a few weeks, the cabin was almost livable. You even took an entire day to build Clover a small pen with branches, sticks, bark, and sap, hanging an oil lamp from the ceiling of the covered plank landing you had made. Clover merely watched as you dropped a pile of wood on your foot, cursing every word that came to mind as you hopped up and down. He just chewed his flowers and grunted at you for disturbing his peace and quiet.
By the time summer was in full swing, you had returned the cabin to its former glory. The roof was patched, and the glass panes of the windows were replaced with various colors. Mortus had given you the colored glass pieces at a cheaper price as he had a hard time transporting glass to and from Velaris. He mentioned going to the market every six months and offered to take you with him, but you politely declined. Your life was here now.
Though your skills in furniture building were limited, you managed to fix up the old rotten chairs for the kitchen table and crafted a small bedside table for the upper loft. Your biggest feat was creating a makeshift mattress from dried weeds and extra fabric. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was much better than sleeping on the hardwood. Your garden bloomed nicely, with zucchini and squash coming up in large batches. Berries from surrounding bushes were a happy addition to most meals.
You even conquered your squeamishness about trapping animals. You caught a few squirrels and rabbits with traps the village children taught you to create. While you still cried each time you landed a final blow, you used every part of the animal, even fashioning sewing needles from their bones to trade with the village females. You visited the village once every few weeks and became well-liked, with villagers storing items for your next return.
Your life seemed blissful. Though you couldn’t rid yourself of your mate, who still tormented you, you felt a sense of peace and self-sufficiency. However, you found it odd how shadows seemed to come and go within the cabin some nights. When evening turned the room deep purple, and you lit the oil lamps, shadows fluttered about with a mind of their own. While off-putting, it happened frequently enough with no ill effects that you almost forgot it happened at all.
In the heat of mid-August, you made another trip into the village and were met by a fae male who seemed to have taken a particular interest in you. Kai, a male about 20 years your senior, with a mop of brown hair often falling into his eyes, often accompanied you through the village, helping carry your supplies which he tied to the ever-resilient Clover. Kai had a kind face, speckled with freckles and crooked teeth, but his green eyes held nothing but kindness. He was strong from years spent working with his father chopping lumber to sell to craftsmen in the city. Kai was always willing to walk alongside you and asked after you constantly.
As you exited the cottage of Meriam, a fae female with five young children who often traded your baked goods for dried cotton, you found Kai running his hand over Clover, who seemed to almost roll his eyes at the interaction. Kai looked up at you with a lazy smile. “Hey.”
You bounded down the steps, your new boots slightly too large but lighter than your old ones. “Hi,” you smiled back.
“How are things?”
You tied the cotton sack to Clover, Kai handing you the lead. “Things are good. Just getting some stuff.”
“Want some help?” Kai asked.
You smiled, appreciating his consistent offer. “Sure.”
The two of you wandered down the dirt road, chickens running amok underfoot as Clover huffed, nearly stomping on one.
“How are things for you?” you asked him.
Kai nodded, “Good. Fished this morning, got a fairly good catch, lots of trout.”
You congratulated him on his catch.
“I’m going to cook them up tonight, if you wanted to stay for dinner.”
You considered the offer, rarely staying past early evening to make it to your first clearing to set up camp. “I don’t think I can. I have a long way home.”
Kai shrugged, his hand resting on Clover’s shoulder, which twitched away horseflies. “You could stay the night,” he offered.
You laughed, “I don’t want to put anyone out.”
“You wouldn’t be,” Kai responded. “You could stay with me. I mean, I’m offering you dinner.”
“Kai, that’s very kind of you, but—” you started.
“I’m serious, Y/N. It’s no trouble at all. Plus, then you can finally taste my fish fry instead of just hearing me brag about it.”
You considered it for a second, the back of your head ringing with uncertainty. You hadn’t slept much the last few nights, and the exhaustion was catching up. You might sleep tonight unburdened by your mate. You looked up, catching Kai’s hopeful eyes. You had declined every other offer he had made before, at least five different times, and yet his offer came up each time.
You laughed slightly, “Sure.”
Kai nearly jumped with excitement. “Really!?” he squealed out, regaining his composure. He cleared his throat, looking straight ahead. “That’s great. That’s fantastic.” He peeked over at you, and you smirked at him.
“If this fish tastes awful, though, I’m never letting you live it down,” you joked.
“You’re going to melt over it,” Kai promised. Smiling widely, he added, “Meet me in an hour?” You nodded, and he hurried off between two cottages. You shook your head, laughing to yourself. Kai knew so little of the world and seemed to have such a sense of childlike wonder. You often found him more like family than anything else. Or at least more like the odd sense of family you had created for yourself. You spent the next hour bargaining with another female who seemed unhappy with the length of your stitches in a quilt you had been working on to trade for a new sack of flour, but you finally convinced her to make the trade, promising that you would up your skill level before the next time you saw her.
You made your way to Kai’s cottage, set farther back up on a plank platform. Tying Clover to the railing, you walked up the stairs where Kai met you at the door before you could even knock.
“Hi!” he greeted eagerly.
You smiled, “Hi.”
Kai stood there for a moment, basking in his smile before remembering to let you in. “Oh,” he stepped back, waving his arm. “Please, come in!”
You entered his small cottage, smaller than your own. A mattress was pushed into the back corner, various axes and tools were strewn about on the floor in a pile. In the middle of the room, a blanket was set on the floor with a plate of cooked fish in the center, surrounded by plates of rice, beans, cooked squash, and berries.
“You outdid yourself,” you noted, gesturing to the blanket.
Kai stood behind you, his cheeks reddening slightly. “Oh, I, uh, I don’t have a lot of company, so I just…” he stammered, “I don’t have a kitchen table, so I thought we could do it picnic style.”
You chuckled lightly, “That’s very sweet.”
Kai’s eyes brightened before he gestured to the blanket, “Please, sit.”
You did, and he hurried to the shelves next to the stove, pulling down a bottle and popping the cork off. Sitting across from you, he handed you the bottle. You pressed it to your lips and tasted the sweet blueberry wine, its tart flavor tightening the back of your mouth as you swallowed, nearly moaning with delight. You licked your lips slightly before handing the bottle to Kai, who took a drink himself.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had summer wine,” you said.
Kai took another long drink before handing it back to you. “I’ve been saving it. I got it last time I was in the city and wanted to wait for a special occasion.”
“I’m the occasion?” you asked.
Kai smirked, “Don’t flatter yourself.” He paused. “But I guess so.” He brought a fork to the fish filet still steaming on the platter and put it on your plate. “Here, try that.”
You took your fork, stabbing it through the meat that flaked away easily. The buttery smooth texture and light citrus flavor swirled on your tongue. You let out a moan, “Okay, you were right. This is delicious.”
Kai smiled, taking a bite of his own. “I told you.”
Greedily scooping another mouthful, you asked, “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
He swallowed his bite, “My mother taught me. We’d always get a big catch of fish, and then she would make this whole meal for the village.”
“I’ll have to thank her for teaching you the next time I see her,” you noted.
“Oh gods, if you ever tell her, she won’t stop talking about it. She loves you,” he laughed back.
You nodded lightly, smiling into the bite you took.
Things were always easy with Kai. He never asked questions that made you uncomfortable. He never seemed to want anything more than your time. You could joke with each other, and conversation was effortless. Time moved slower with him. The night waned as the sun set, the two of you finishing the entire plate of fish and all the sides. You both laid on the blanket, sprawling, looking up at the ceiling, laughing through hiccups as the fae wine spread through your bloodstreams.
____________________________________________________
“I swear,” Kai laughed out, “I’ve never seen him more angry.”
You coughed out a laugh, sitting up slightly. “He chased you naked through the woods?”
Kai closed his eyes, pressing his palms into them as he heaved out laughter. “I’ve never been more terrified in my life.”
“Why did he think you stole his clothes in the first place?”
Kai threw his hands up. “Fuck if I know,” he laughed. “He had it out for me from the beginning.”
“So what happened?” you asked, slurring your words.
“I climbed a tree, and he lost me,” he laughed. “He just wandered around, dick to the wind, threatening to skin me.”
You laughed at the sight of one of Kai’s friends, Liam, who often was the butt of jokes in the village but had grown into a handsome male lusted after by other village females.
“What happened after?” you asked.
Kai turned to his side, propping his head on his hand. “I waited until he left, and then when I got back home, he had thrown all my clothes into the trees.”
You guffawed, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You took the bottle of wine and brought it to your lips but found it empty. You turned it over and shook it, a sad frown on your face.
“Gone?” Kai asked.
You nodded.
Without knowing why, you let out a loud laugh, laying back as the bottle hit the floor. Kai smiled and started laughing too, the two of you almost howling as he looked at you. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
You managed to push out between laughs, “Your face!”
“What about my face?” he laughed.
“I can’t look at you without laughing,” you cried out, covering your own.
“What, am I that disgusting?” He punched your shoulder.
“No, you just—” you wheezed, looking at him again.
“What?” he asked, smiling widely.
You turned to him, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back laughter.
“You’re just looking at me?” Kai said.
“You have a silly face.”
Kai smiled slightly. “I have a silly face?” he taunted back.
You nodded, laughter bubbling up again.
“You’re so drunk,” he laughed.
“You’re drunk!” you pointed a finger, slightly off target.
“I know I’m drunk,” Kai responded, “and so are you. And you keep laughing at me because you’re cruel.”
“I wouldn’t be so cruel if you didn’t have such a face,” you laughed, drawing a lazy, squiggly circle around his face.
“I’m glad you find my appearance so amusing!” he laughed again, lying back on his back.
The two of you sat in a soft silence, still slightly gurgling out laughter.
Kai turned toward you, and you giggled, tears streaming down your face. “Are you done laughing at me?”
“Are you done looking like that?”
“What do you want from me, Y/N?” He chuckled. “I can’t change my face.”
“Then I guess I’m not done laughing.”
You turned to Kai, who smiled at you as you giggled, your hands resting on your stomach, rising and falling with your laughter.
“You’re a mystery,” Kai whispered.
“Ooo, spooky,” you responded, raising your fingers and wiggling them slightly.
“No, really,” Kai said. “You come out of the woods one day, say nothing about where you’re from.” He gestured to the fish. “You steal from us—”
You cut him off, “I bartered!” You laughed.
Kai laughed with you, continuing, “Okay, you participated in barter and trade, and then you disappear into the woods. Three weeks later, you come back up here demanding more and tell us nothing of who you are.”
You tried to hold back another laugh, looking at him as Kai raised himself from the ground to sit up, his legs crossed as he leaned his head against the wall.
“What do you want to know?” you asked.
“Anything you want to tell me. You can tell me whatever story you want, just tell me a little about the mysterious female in front of me.”
You hoisted yourself up, still laughing lightly. You swiped your finger through the juice of the berries in the bowl and sucked the sweetness from it. “Well, I was born from a dragon.”
“Obviously,” Kai said, “explains the scales and fire-breathing anger.” He joked.
“Of course,” you said, “and I spent my days plundering the cities of Prythian, wreaking havoc on innocent families, and flying to mountains to protect my treasures.”
Kai smiled and nodded. “And then you were cursed by a wizard?” he asked.
You shook your head, wagging your finger. “No, no, no, a witch. It was a witch.”
“Ah, yes,” he said. “A witch cursed you to be a female for the rest of your life.”
“Cursed to live in the woods for the rest of my days, never to know the speed of the wind and the glimmer of gold.”
“A tragic tale, to be sure,” Kai smirked.
You feigned a frown. “I cry myself to sleep every night.”
Kai smiled and leaned his head back, closing his eyes.
You looked at him, his peaceful face, and felt your inhibitions lower slightly. Pushing back the incessant pounding of your mate with it, you traced the floral patterns of the blanket and cleared your throat. “No, I—” you coughed, “I was born in Velaris.”
Kai opened one eye to look at you. “A city girl,” he smirked jokingly.
You let out a small giggle. “Not for long. My mother took me out of the city when I was still really young. We found a village in the woods, kind of like this, and she raised me there.”
Kai opened both eyes and jostled his feet. “What about your father?”
You shrugged.
“He’s a bastard?” he asked.
You shrugged again, a smirk on your face as the alcohol's warmth tingled in your toes. “Don’t know, never met him!”
Kai looked at you incredulously. “You don’t know your father?”
You wiggled your nose, numb from the wine. “My mother said he wanted nothing to do with us.”
Kai looked at you more seriously. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh,” you slapped his leg playfully, “don’t get sappy. I don’t know the guy, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything.”
Kai started to giggle again. “I guess that’s true. Can’t miss what you don’t know.”
You started laughing again too. “Besides, what if he’s ugly?”
Kai guffawed, pushing tears away. “Then that would explain your ass face.”
You punched him in the thigh, and he cried out, “Ow, fuck, reign it in.”
“Pussy,” you joked. Kai rubbed his leg and smiled at you. “Sorry,” you apologized.
“Well, now you owe me, as I’m wounded. So how did you get here?” Kai asked.
You felt the words fall from your mouth faster than you could stop them. “I met my mate, who was sent straight from hell,” you pointed down to the ground, “and he was so fucking mean and took everything so seriously.” Kai’s face tightened slightly. “So I ran away from him, and I watched someone die, and then I met the High Lord of the Night Court, nice guy actually,” Kai seemed to straighten slightly. “And then I said goodbye, and went into the woods, and now I’m here.”
Kai looked at you, a serious tonal shift. “You have a mate?” He stammered, and got out, “The High Lord?”
You nodded, swaying slightly as you pointed to your head. “Still can hear him up here.”
“Y/N—” Kai started.
“Ugh,” you said, leaning back, “if you’re one of those traditional fae with a stick up their ass that thinks you have to stay with your mate, I don’t wanna hear it,” you slurred.
Kai leaned forward slightly. “No, no. I guess I just, I didn’t think that mates could be cruel to each other.”
You laughed slightly. “Oh, you are very wrong.” Kai paused, unsure of what to say. “You don’t need to pity me,” you said. “I should have seen it coming. He was shitty before we accepted the bond. I don’t know why I thought it would change after we were mated.” You picked a hangnail from your thumb.
“You’re brave,” Kai noted.
Kai watched you with intense curiosity as you shook your head, turning the corners of your mouth down. “I was desperate. Bravery didn’t have anything to do with it.” Kai didn’t respond, his eyes encouraging you to continue. “When I was a child, my mother would tell me stories about mates, about fae who loved each other so deeply they felt each other’s souls dancing with their own.” You looked at the ceiling, imagining the tales your mother spun. “These fae would spend their entire lives looking in the mirror and only see half of themselves looking back.” Your eyes traced the beams above you. “And then one day, they would find their mate, and suddenly,” you snapped your fingers, “the world was whole, and every piece of you suddenly made sense.”
Kai leaned forward, captivated. “She’d tell me how colors would be more vivid, food would taste better, heat would feel hotter and cold would feel colder, and the world would feel suddenly so much larger and yet so small.” You swallowed down the lump in your throat. “She would tell me this story about how, long before the world was as it is now, where clouds were made of fire and the mountains were tall enough to scrape the sky, long before the fae existed, there were these creatures who roamed the world.”
Kai’s eyes widened with interest. “Some of them looked like two males sewn up back to back, and those were the children of the sun. And the children of the world were two females meshed together. The children of the moon were a male and female. These creatures, they would spend their days talking, reading, and learning about the world around them. They were so happy to be alive. Every day they would thank the sun or the moon or the world just for being alive.” You envisioned these beings, with four arms and legs, wandering around the barren wasteland of the world, content with each other.
“And then,” you continued, “the gods grew jealous of the bond that the creatures had with each other. They never knew loneliness, sorrow, or anger; they had no fear.” Kai listened intently, shifting slightly to lean forward on his arms. “The gods worried that the creatures would disobey them and that if they had no fear and no worry of loss, they wouldn’t hesitate to battle them. The more the creatures talked, the more they began to question the gods' power over them. So the gods decided they would split the creatures into two, just cut them down the middle.” You made a slashing motion with your hand. “And so the gods made this plan, and they filled the sky with fire and ice, and they struck fear into the hearts of these creatures. As the fire rained down, they ripped the creatures apart with giant swords. When they were all separated, they blew a giant windstorm through and scattered the creatures and their partners across the world, threatening that if they ever defied them again, they would split them again, and they would have one arm and one leg.” You laughed slightly at the image.
“My mother would say that as the creatures tried to continue to live, they spent their lives roaming the earth searching for their other half. When they had children, and time continued on, they died out, but their children still searched for the other half, like that need was buried deep inside them. As the children had children, and their children had children, and then at some point, they gave birth to the fae. We carry that same need to search for this other half. And that’s our mate. When we find them, and that bond snaps, it’s because we have finally found our other half, and it’s a tiny act of defiance against the gods who taught us to hate, fear, and be angry. But also taught us to know love. She called it the origin of love”
Kai sat back, absorbing the story. “That’s...incredible,” he said softly. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”
You smiled, a bittersweet expression crossing your face. “My mother had a way of making everything sound magical.”
Kai reached out and gently touched your hand. “She gave you a beautiful gift with those stories.”
You nodded. “I think my mother just needed something to hold onto. I think...” you paused, “I think she was a very broken woman. And that if she could find this one piece of herself then everything would come together and be fine.” You felt a tear run down your face. “She would always tell me that if I found my mate someday, the world would be right.” You brushed the tear away, the alcohol still bubbling in your blood. “So when I met my mate, I just accepted the bond right away. I didn’t even think twice about it. I didn’t think the bond could be wrong; I just thought that if I loved him hard enough, he would be kind. Or that if I was his missing piece, it would just take some time for him to settle.” You shook your head, sniffling slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just a stupid story. She got it wrong.”
Kai scooted closer to you. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”
You shrugged. “No reason to apologize. I was a child. I was a child when she told me that story, and I was a child when I accepted that bond. And now I have to live with that choice.”
Kai shook his head, looking downwards. “Does he know?”
“Who?” You asked, looking at Kai.
“Does your mate know where you are?”
You shook your head. “If he did, he would have come to take me back by now.”
Kai sat in silence, as did you, staring at the ceiling, trying to tame the tears that rolled down your cheeks.
“You said you met the High Lord? Is there nothing he could do?” Kai asked.
“I didn’t tell him,” you paused. “It wasn’t his concern.”
“It’s not your fault, Y/N. You shouldn’t have to live with this,” Kai pleaded.
“It was a foolish mistake. And believe me, I’ve looked into ways to split the bond. It’s not feasible.”
Kai sat for a second. “And you can still feel him?”
“Every day.” You blinked away another tear. “I can feel him scraping the inside of my mind, trying to get me to come home.”
“Do you talk to him?” he asked.
“I used to. Now I’ve stopped altogether.”
Kai nodded. “It’s not fair.”
You chuckled. “Out of all the unfairness in the world, my mated mistake is the least of the problems.”
Kai shook his head. “You’re allowed to be angry. And you’re allowed to say it’s not fair.”
You raised your brows. “I know. And I am angry. But I’ve seen a lot more hurtful things than to wallow in my own suffering anymore.”
Kai crawled over to you, positioning his chest slightly above your own. “Your suffering is important to me.” You looked up at him, his hair hanging down in his face. “I may not know it myself, and I may not be able to feel it, but never in a hundred lifetimes do you deserve to be tormented.”
You opened your mouth slightly, but Kai cut you off. “I don’t want to hear you deny it. I care about you, and I wish it could be different.”
“It can’t,” you said back.
“But it doesn’t mean I can’t wish it for you. Even if you’ve stopped.”
You smiled up at him, as his green eyes traced your own. Kai didn’t say anything, merely gazing down at you, his eyes softening slightly as he took one hand and ran his fingers through your hair. And then, without thinking, you started to laugh again, uncontrollably. Kai simply rolled his eyes and rolled off you onto his back.
“You’re a child,” he scolded you. You continued to laugh until your stomach ached and at some point, Kai joined in on your laughter, bellowing out joy until the late hours of the night.
To my lovely readers, I'm not apologizing for writing men into my world that I would throw myself at immediately. Throwing feminism to the wind, I will drop everything to wife that man up. And yet, I warn you to not get attached, because the only person who can hurt you is yourself... and also me..... @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006
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★ 𓈒 ݁ STAR—CROSSED (rhysand x reader) ⊹
chapter three: (written) ✧
𓈒 ݁ ✫ masterlist previous next
over the weekend, you had thanked mor countless times for the opportunity she’d given you. she had insisted it wasn’t a big deal, but perhaps she wouldn’t understand how much this meant to you, how badly you had wished for a path in photography to be there for you. it had been a dream that you’d given up on for a long time until you started again for fun in your first year, but you would’ve never thought to consider it until you had the safety net of your degree.
“are we getting distracted now, y/n?” rhysand’s words interrupted your thoughts. you can hear the arrogance that coated his voice like honey. he peers above you, leaning over your desk to stare you down.
you had your chin in your palms and had been staring into the distance, but that didn’t mean you weren’t listening. however, a part of you was embrassed to admit that it was rhysand who caught your attention again and not the lesson. shifting your gaze to look up at him, you fake a smile as you respond, “i can promise you that pretty face isn’t distracting anyone, rhysand.”
rhysand quirks an eyebrow at you, almost like he was trying to guess what you were thinking about. “i never implied you were distracted by me in particular,” rhysand says blankly before a smirk makes his way onto his lips. you blink at him, realizing the insinuation about what you’d said. you curse yourself for referring to rhysand as pretty, but he definitely knew what you were talking about. it wasn’t unlike him to wink at people on campus and make small flirty comments when he knew he could talk someone into something. perhaps he’d even tried it on you at some point. it was a skill that you sometimes envied, the only ever way you convinced people was through your clever reasoning. at some point, you’d heard from elain that apparently you also happen to be quite intimidating unintentionally, something she said you had in common with nesta.
you take a moment before you respond, using it to scan rhysand’s figure. he wore his usual dress pants and a white button down shirt, his jacket further showing off his expensive preferences. despite the shiny silver watch and necklace he used to accessorize, he made himself look more casual by undoing the top two buttons of his shirt. you admired his style only because you could tell rhysand takes good care of himself and as a photographer. you recognized his jacket to be from a designer you admired and studied, revealing how his taste could be similar to yours. although he was a bother for you, the bastard didn’t have a bad fashion sense at all.
rhysand continues to stare down at you, while you wanted nothing more than to slap the expression off his face. his gaze made you uncomfortable, it burned into your skin and left your heart beating faster. he was insufferable, always taking pleasure in annoying and distressing you when he could’ve been a friend. in a perfect world, the two of you should be helping each other instead, if only rhysand wasn’t so petty and you weren’t so competitive.
you stand up for your desk, the chair making a squeak that catches the attention of some people sitting around you. those glances in your direction are ignored as you stare back at rhysand, your faces slightly inched closer than when you were sitting down. you give him one last comment before you stride out of class.
“you clearly think so highly of yourself that i’m not wrong. but since i’m not as vain as you, i have better things to do than entertain you.”
you’d actually been in a good mood for your entire ride to the studio, despite your earlier conversation with rhysand. you had brushed it off for once instead of obsessing over every comment and heading to the library, insisting on working harder to beat him.
this was your first professional shoot as a photographer, and you had a likely chance of being asked to keep working with the studio since the previous one had quit. never once would you imagine that posting your account online and building your portfolio that it would be shown to someone at a studio like this one. you didn’t believe in fate, but a part of you thanked every star in the sky that you ended up with mor as your roommate. maybe there was some greater power that brought you and your best friend together.
perhaps this could become a real job for you, unlike what your parents had always insinuated. you could work in engineering after your degree while free lancing as a photographer. perhaps if you were really good and built a name for yourself, you could even do photography full time. you would prove your family wrong, you could find a job that provides for them plenty enough.
the studio lobby is quite modern and newly renovated, you can tell from the moment you walked through the revolving doors of the building. from the running water fountain to the hanging lights over the main desk. checking in was easy as well, once you gave the name of morrigan’s manager you were immediately given an entry pass and escorted to the correct room.
the studio room is smaller than you expected, though it definitely wasn’t underwhelming. the small room was full of lights, with different backdrops in multiple colors. the equipment caught your eye the most, with large heavy professional cameras that you almost didn’t want to touch in fear of how expensive they probably were. these were cameras that you probably wouldn’t ever get a chance to buy on your own without getting a job in photography first.
you’re left alone in the studio room after being told that the model would be out shortly. even though it was a smaller space that the studio offered, you were told that this model was apparently quite promising, but he just preferred to work with few people. you hadn’t realized until now that there wasn’t anyone else working on the shoot with you, though you didn’t really feel like it was your place to request for any staff.
you realized that he would arrive any moment now and notice the door in the back leading to a dressing room. you remind yourself that everything will be alright, that you can handle being alone with a stranger for an hour or two. you didn’t necessarily need to be too nice since you didn’t want to come across as desperate, just polite enough to be professional. your model would likely be a beginner as well, someone who might understand your current position.
in the corner of your eye, you notice a navy blue jacket hanging off a chair, proving your assumption that the model was probably in the dressing room. you can’t help but recognize the design, the style of the fabric that almost looked black from a nontechnical eye and you realize that you’ve seen it earlier.
your eyes widen once the door creaks open and rhysand steps out, fixing his hair before his gaze shifts to look for his photographer. your jaw drops at the sight of him.
“y/n,” rhysand pauses, angling his body towards you before lifting an eyebrow again. “are you stalking me now too?”
— NOTES
the bat boys are bit mischaracterized at the beginning to show y/n’s misconception of them
y/n is so clearly attracted to rhysand physically… despite hating his personality <3
y/n always wanted to be a professional photographer but their family disapproved and so they decided to go into astrophysics instead :(
— TAGLIST
@thelov3lybookworm @starsand @lilah-asteria @therealmoonstone @just-a-social-casualty-1 @ashjade19 @girlontheblock @cherry-cin @daughterofthemoons-stuff @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @sweet-chai-amore @kierramofficial @noelli-smv @c-dizzle99 @littlestw01f @marina468
#— starcrossed#acotar x reader#acotar x you#rhysand x you#rhysand x reader#rhysand au#rhysand imagine#rhysand darling#high lord rhysand#rhysand acotar#acotar rhysand#rhysand fanfic#acotar fanfic#rhysand#acotar imagine#acotar smau#acotar fanfiction#acotar#bat boys x reader#the bat boys#bat boys x you#night court x reader#night court x you#night court#inner circle#inner circle x reader
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Masterlist
Azriel x Reader(N)
Summary: Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The more he gets closer to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.
Under works. Numbered chapters are to be read in order. The rest are one shots with time jumps.
This story contains themes of violence and other triggering topics. Please read with caution. Warnings are included within chapters, still I'm only human and I might've missed some. 18+ chapters are highlighted.
Rare
Sanctuary
Arsonist
Absolution
Comment below or DM me to be added to the taglist.
taglist: @mybestfriendmademe, @scatteredstardustt
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#a court of thorns and roses#azriel acotar#azriel x reader
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Omg I love all you adult Nyx fics I had this idea only if it peaks your interest were Nyx goes missing for like 3 months and the inner circle are trying to find him and they trace him to this cottage and they sneak in to find reader asleep on one side of Nyx and nyx holding a baby and how the inner circle would react
If not completely fine ignore this have a great day/ night lovely 🤍🤍🤍
Thank you for requesting this. I hope it lives up to your expectations and is close to what you had in mind. Hope you have an amazing day/night
Secrets Adult Nyx x Female Reader
Warnings: Angst, Language
It wasn't long after you met Nyx in Hewn City that the bond snapped for both of you. You'd never been happier than you were when you were with him. He found a quiet cottage outside of Velaris and wasted no time moving you into it. He knew you didn't have an easy life, but he was determined to make it better now that you were with him. You didn't want your parents to find out for fear they'd try to use you to get to him and his family. You had always been a political pawn for them and suffered greatly when you didn't play your part.
Nyx understood, and the two of you decided to keep your relationship hidden until you were both comfortable. It wasn't long before you became pregnant. The urge to tell his family was overwhelming, but he wasn't sure how they would react and didn't want to put you through that if it turned negative. Nyx kept up appearances with his family and even hired a private healer to monitor you and the baby during the pregnancy. With only 3 months left before your due date, she ordered you to bed rest. Nyx refused to leave your side once he found out.
For those 3 months, he made sure you had everything you needed without having to lift a finger. He cooked your favorite meals and made sure to take care of any cravings you had. When the time came, he never hesitated to give you whatever you needed in that moment. He was supportive and loving throughout the whole ordeal. He admired his son in your arms as he peacefully nursed. Once Caelan had a full belly and released a healthy burp, he slept peacefully in Nyx's arms. Exhaustion was catching up with you, causing you to curl up beside Nyx and fall asleep.
Nyx admired his new family while you slept. He gently talked and cooed at Caelan, who held onto Nyx's finger in his sleep. In that moment, every was worth it, the secrets, the hiding, and the traveling back and forth. He would do it all over again just for this moment. The moment was soon interrupted as the bedroom door opened, revealing his parents. They stood in stunned silence as they took in the scene before them. Nyx indicated to move to the living room before laying Caelan in his crib.
He quietly shuts the bedroom door before making his way to the living room and finding not only his parents but most of the inner circle. "So this is where you've been for 3 months? Living with some girl and her baby? Meanwhile we've been worried something had happened to you! We spent so much time looking for you just to find you here!" Rhys shouts, unable to control his anger and hurt. "She isn't some girl, and that's not just her baby! That is my mate, y/n, and that baby is your grandson!" Nyx says through gritted teeth.
The sound of arguing had woken you up. You found your bed empty and Caelan in his crib, starting to fuss. "It's ok, Cae, mommy's got you." You say as you carefully pick him up. He starts to settle down as you gently rock him and rub his back, being careful of his wings. You hold him close as you can't help but listen to the argument in the other room.
"You can't be serious! If she's your mate, why are you hiding her from us?!" Rhys replies. "It's complicated, and I'll explain it once you've calmed down and are ready to listen!" Nyx seeths. "Feyre, don't you have something to say?!" Rhys asks, looking for some support. As soon as Nyx looks at her, the first of many tears falls. She just shakes her head softly and walks out of the cottage. "Mom, wait -" Nyx tries to stop her, but she winnows before he can say anything. "I hope you're happy with what you've done." Rhys says. "Get out! All of you! You're not welcome here!" Nyx shouts before walking back to the bedroom.
Once the door is closed behind him, he lets out a sigh. He notices you sitting on the bed with Caelan. "I'm sorry, love." He apologizes as he sits beside you. "It's ok. It was only a matter of time." You tell him as you watch Caelan sleep. "They shouldn't be bothering us again." He says as he puts his arm around you. "I didn't want you to have to choose between families." You tell him. "It was never a choice. The two of you are all I need." He says. You notice a sadness in his eyes as he says the words. You know you have to find a way to fix this for him.
The next morning, you sneak out while Nyx is in the shower and Caelan is sleeping. You leave him a note on the nightstand. You manage to make your way into Velaris and find your way to the river house. You knock before letting your nerves get to you. Feyre opens the door, looking surprised to see you. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, High Lady, but I was hoping to have a bit of your time." You say, less than confident, almost expecting her to slam the door in your face.
She steps aside, allowing you to enter. You follow her into the living room and take a seat across from her. "Would you like anything to drink?" She asks. "No, thank you." You say feeling awkward. "I don't want to take up too much of your time, I'm sure you have a lot going on. I just wanted to apologize. I can't imagine how you must've felt the last 3 months. I don't expect you to forgive me, but I hope someday you can forgive Nyx. I know he loves you all dearly and has told me how amazing and caring his family is. I don't want him to lose that because of me. I know we handled things wrong, but we both felt like it was the right way at the time. I'm sorry for the hurt I've caused you." You say genuinely.
"Y/n, wait. I never had any ill will towards either of you. I'm sure your reasons for the secrecy were valid, but it didn't take the sting away. I missed out on your pregnancy and the birth of my grandson, but I don't want to miss out on anything else." Feyre says. "Join us for dinner tonight. It will give us all a chance to clear the air and try to make things right." You say, hopeful. "I'd like that." Feyre says with a soft smile. "We'll see you tonight. Is there anything special you would like?" You ask. "Whatever you make will be perfect." She says warmly. "Can I ask how you are getting home?" Feyre asks. "The same way I got here, walking."
"I'll winnow you home." She says. "I'm fine walking. I don't wish to be a bother." You say. "It's no bother. Besides, it would make me feel better about you getting home safely." She says, and you can't help but agree. She winnows you close to home, not wanting to upset Nyx with her presence until you have a chance to talk to him. You thank her for seeing you and bringing you home. She tells you she's looking forward to tonight before she winnows back to Velaris.
You find Nyx sitting on the porch with Caelan as you walk up to the house. "How did it go?" He says, keeping his tone neutral. "Better than I was expecting. She didn't slam the door in my face." You answer. "No matter how upset she is, I doubt she would ever slam a door in anyone's face, except maybe Tamlin." He responds. "They're coming for dinner tonight." You tell him. "Great." He says as he gets up and walks inside. "Ok, you're mad at me. I'm sorry I went to talk to your mom without you. I just couldn't let you lose your family and have it be my fault." You say as you follow him.
"I don't care that you went to see my mom, I'm glad you did. I care that you felt you needed to sneak off and leave Caelan to do so. I care that something could've easily happened to you along the way. I care that you didn't feel you could come to me and tell me what you were doing." He says, causing Caelan to fuss in his arms. "Nyx, I'm sorry I wasn't thinking. I just felt like I needed to fix this and that you wouldn't want me to try to talk to her." You say apologetically. "No more secrets." He says as he coaxes you to look at him. "Agreed." You respond. "So my parents are coming to dinner, are you sure you're ready for that?" He asks with concern.
"We need to start somewhere. I want them to be a part of Caelan's life. Besides, you can't blame them. We did keep some major secrets from them." You tell him. "Guess we better start getting ready then." Nyx says. You spend the rest of the day cleaning and taking care of Caelan before starting dinner. You're just finishing up when Feyre and Rhys show up. Feyre offers to help you while Nyx and Rhys take a moment outside. "Should I be concerned?" You ask once the door is closed. "No, they have their own way of working things out. It's best to leave it to them." Feyre says with a smile.
Once you and Feyre have the dinner table set, the boys rejoin you. "Did you get it sorted out?" You ask. "Yeah." They both answer at the same time. Nyx lays Caelan in the bassinet before taking a seat beside you. "Looks amazing, love." He says. "Thanks. Hopefully, it tastes as good as it looks." You reply with a smile. You enjoy the meal with casual conversation between the four of you. Once dinner is done, Nyx and Rhys offer to clean up since you cooked. You join Feyre on the couch as she holds Caelan. "He is perfect." She tells you as she admires her grandson.
"Y/n, I wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday. It was out of line regardless of the situation. I should have controlled my emotions better." Rhys says from the other side of Feyre. "I understand how shocking yesterday was, and I'm sorry for the secrecy around Nyx and mine's relationship." You apologize while Nyx gives your knee a reassuring squeeze. "With my parents always trying for political and social gain, I didn't want them to try to exploit my relationship with Nyx or have you think my intentions with him were anything less than true." You admit to them.
"Anyone can see how in love the two of you are. I'm sorry we had such a negative first impression, but I hope tonight helps make up for it." Feyre says. "I really enjoyed tonight and look forward to it again." You say with a smile. "We do a weekly family dinner with the rest of the inner circle. You'll always welcome to join, or we could come here, whichever you're more comfortable with." Feyre says excitedly. "That sounds great, plus it will give you more time with Caelan." Nyx says. You carry on casual conversation until you realize how late it's getting.
"Thank you again for having us." Feyre says as she hugs you, then Nyx. "It was our pleasure." You answer as Rhys hugs you next. They say goodbye to Caelan before winnowing home. "Have I told you how amazing you are lately?" Nyx says as he follows you into the bedroom. "Not lately." You say with a smile. "You truly are amazing. Thank you for tonight and for making the effort." He says before kissing you. "I could see how they would be upset. Imagine if Caelan pulled what we did." You say after returning the kiss. "Don't even say that." Nyx groans at the idea.
You ready Caelan for bed before changing into pajamas. Once in bed, Nyx pulls you into his arms and cuddles you. "Maybe we'll get lucky, and he'll be better behaved." You say with a grin. "Unlikely if he is anything like me, plus if he hangs out with Cassian, we are doomed." Nyx teases. "Well, we can only hope." You respond. "This is true." Nyx agrees as he settles in under the blankets. "I love you." You say softly. "I love you too." Nyx murmurs in your hair as you both fall asleep.
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Hate Me Instead Masterlist
For the one-year anniversary of publishing the first two chapters, I decided to make a nice little masterlist for Hate Me Instead, my first full ACOTAR fanfic. I’m so grateful for everyone’s support and hope to write even more this next year!
Read on AO3
Completed - 11 Chapters - 37.630 words
Rated M
Summary: Rhysand and Feyre both struggle with her first visit to the Night Court in this alternative version to early events in ACOMAF. What if Rhysand had stuck around for more for lessons, and both of them were making rather poor decisions? From Rhys's POV.
TW: Smut, canon-typical depictions of depression and suicidal ideation, discussion of past SA and violence, infidelity
Tumblr posts:
Chapters One & Two - 6/1/23
Chapter Three - 6/3/23
Chapter Four - 6/5/23
Chapter Five - 6/9/23
Chapter Six - 6/15/23
Chapter Seven - 6/24/23
Chapter Eight - 7/4/23
Chapter Nine - 7/16/23
Chapters Ten & Eleven - 9/6/23
Read on AO3
And please admire my atrocious handwriting after the cut - I wrote parts of chapters 1-3 in my journal…
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What Bloomed in the Darkgarden
Chapter 36
Azriel dreams of drawing Elain a bath every day for the rest of her life.
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Datura Pt 14
Author's Note: If your read ACOSF and got to that part where Cassian is mind controlled and thought, hmm how could this hurt me more, look no further. Had to make it angsty before we get fluffy, right?
Warnings: Allusions to Assault, Character Death, Canon Typical Violence/Blood and Gore. A lot of angst; like a lot.
Masterlist/ Previous Chapter
There's a callback to Chapter 1 in here, but since it's been so long since I wrote it, here's the chapter again, just for a refresher ;)
---------------------------------
Revenge had kept you warm all those nights in the dungeon, had kept your chin up during every humiliating thing that red headed bitch had put you through. You’d spent hours and hours dreaming up all the ways you would make her pay for turning your life upside down, for tearing the Courts apart, for laying a hand on your mate. In your dreams it was a swift, clean death that wiped away any chance of survival. But standing in the dark tunnels of the Mountain’s lowest levels, the blood of her men dripping from your claws, this is the last thing you want.
This is not swift justice, this is not satisfying revenge, it’s a bloodbath. Males reach for their swords and you tear them apart with your hands, claws cleaving through armor and flesh with little resistance, the splatter of it chilling against your changed skin. Every sense is heightened, every smell and sight changed and distorted, the splatter of blood stings like pin pricks, and yet the beast that has lived caged within your chest all these years delights in it. Your head screams at you to stop, yet your body moves as if it enjoys the hunt.
Hybern said all of them, and your collared body responds accordingly, leaving nothing left of the sentries that patrol the lower levels of the Mountain. There are beasts and monsters here too, hiding in the dark corners, huddling around fires to stay warm as autumn creeps in, all dispatched with a ruthless efficiency that makes your stomach churn, and yet you still can’t force yourself to stop.
The darkness of this place that had once felt so soul crushing and disorienting now makes the muscles in your shoulders relax. The beast within you chuckles as it slips into the dark shadows as if they’re a caress of a lover.
A sentry walks your direction, unawares. He’s dead before his next breath.
With no physical control of your body, you try desperately to call for your mate, to find whatever shred of a bond is left, if there even is one, but you feel it go nowhere. Before, it was like dropping a bit of water into a pond, the echo of your call disturbing the ether of the physic plane until something out there felt the ripple. But there is no ripple here. It is as if your calls bounce off a wall of steel. If there is a bond left, it is as much a prisoner to Hybern’s will as you are, no matter how much you mentally bash yourself against it.
Your body moves without your consent, deeper and deeper into the Mountain. Your hands move on their own volition, yanking previously locked doors off the hinges to allow you to tear apart whatever prisoner, guard, or beast lays within. Some of them are still sleeping when you come, completely unaware they’re being hunted until it’s too late. Some try to fight. None get far. These newly awakened powers leave little room for fighting, all you have to do is direct some of that ether between your fingers in their direction and they turn to a bloody mist. You are a far greater monster than anything in this Mountain has ever been, and there’s no chance that anyone will be warned you’re there until it’s too late.
Time is a concept that exists outside of you, however long it takes to clear the lower levels, the winding, endless tunnels filled with bodies, feels like both a blink and an eternity. It had been sunrise when you’d entered, it very well could have been evening already and you’d have no idea. All this body knows is the hunt, and it moves tirelessly through floors you’ve never seen, with soldiers and war bands and monsters you’d never known existed, until the halls start to look familiar. The prison first, your old cell still damaged. The training room, with its dust stained weapons and crumbling pillars. Every floor up is a new terror, a possibility to come across a face you know.
“Please,” you beg whatever entity will dare listen to you. “Please, let him be out. Let him be anywhere but here.” Everything you touch dies, if anything happens to Rhys…
Blood drips off your aching skin. Moving like this makes your muscles feel like they could pull away from your bones, this form too much for your mortal body to keep contained. It should be tiring, yet, your legs still move you forward as if you haven’t been tearing through an army for hours, unhindered by your discomfort.
“Please stop,” you whisper when you find sleeping quarters for Amarantha’s servants, fangs bared and claws swinging. “Please!”
A blue skinned fae with crooked wings drops to their knees before you, tears streaming down their cheeks. “Have mercy! Please!”
Stop this. Stop this. Stop this!
The collar hums at your hesitation, metal burning, it’s dark power pulsing through your veins like living flames. A growl of pain slips out of you as you extend your hand and mist the begging fae.
Others sprint from the room, screaming. None of them make it farther than the outside hallway.
You can feel blood and gore beneath your feet as you walk past, looking for anyone else on this floor. There’s a couple hiding in a closet, hands pressed over their mouths to keep quiet. A soldier drunk and stumbling with his pants around his ankles. A courtier slipping from a secret lover’s room. All gone.
You’d cry if you could, but nothing slows you, your body moving ever forward until it comes to a hall you recognize, your own claw marks dragged across the walls.
The more you try and fight it, the more the collar burns.
Most of the rooms around your old cell are empty, your own included. In all your revenge plans you’d always pictured yourself destroying it before leaving, but the collar doesn’t care what you want. It shuts the door and leaves the bed and the book written about you for the dust to once again claim as it begins its ascent to the Throne Room.
There are plenty of obstacles getting there, their faces all a blur of sudden terror and agony. No amount of bathing will ever cleanse the feeling of all this gore from your skin, from your soul.
The Throne Room doors finally come into view, the noise you’ve been making in the lower levels attracting the attention of the guards, who stand at the closed doors with their spears drawn. They’d been so imposing, that day the Attor had dragged you into Amarantha’s chambers, but now, they’re as dangerous as flies. You turn them to mist with the same blast of power that shatters the doors, the ancient rock around you screaming in protest. This draws some attention from the dancing crowd, but it’s not until you’ve misted a large chunk of them that the music finally stops playing.
No. No. No.
The crowd parts with a scream, pressing against the walls, scrambling for the exits as you step into that all too familiar room, dripping blood behind you.
“What is the meaning of-” Amarantha’s shrill voice echoes off the chamber walls, rattling the decaying bodies still pinned to the ruined stones of this once sacred hall. There had always been a strange energy to the Mountain, the magic that kept it alive, old and strange, always hidden beneath the surface, but with your new found powers, you feel the echo of it beneath your feet. This place is twisted, the once holy magic from the Cauldron itself rotten and decaying, you crinkle your nose at the smell of it.
The Queen still sits on her throne, the sheer fabric of her blood red dress clinging to her meager curves, as she takes you in. It takes her a minute to understand what she’s seeing, to process the magnitude of what you were and what you now are. Her gaze flicks to her side… where she keeps your mate chained to her throne.
The screaming of the crowd, the pounding of your heart, it’s all a dull, distant echo in your ears. Rhys is wearing a collar, his dark hair messy, knotted atop his head, violet eyes glassy, red streaked; he’s not wearing a shirt, or pants, stripped down to his boxers, his tattooed chest bruised and littered with claw marks.
Oh gods.
What had she done to him?
Mentally, you bash against the wall between the two of you, screaming for him, begging anybody who will listen to let you out, to let you save him.
If he can hear you, he gives no acknowledgment. Even if he could break through that wall between you, there’s no way he could do it in this state. It takes him a long time to process what he sees when his gaze finally drags to you, as if it’s an effort to move his head. His glassy eyes blinking too many times like he’s trying to clear the haze from them to ensure that what he’s seeing is real. He’s as much himself as you are, both of you locked behind a wall of someone else’s making. You’re sure your heart is breaking, if it works at all it’s a ragged, bleeding thing that sits uselessly in your chest.
Amarantha stands and Rhys sways on his knees, trying to get out of her way. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way he flinches away from her hand, the way he dips his chin to his chest.
“What is this?” She snarls. “Guards!”
If there are soldiers coming for you, or just the crowd scattering to let them pass, it doesn’t matter. You raise a hand and mist all of them, the rock above your head shuddering as your power obliterates everything from flesh to rock.
Amarantha’s red painted lips part in shock, a small gasp of surprise slipping out of her.
There are a dozen different things you want to say to her, a thousand different things you mean to make her pay for, but you can’t open your mouth to say anything. There are no words able to pass beyond the burning thrum of the collar fused to your throat.
“This is a new look for you, Little Mouse,” she croons as a ring of fire emerges to wreathe her hands. “Who’d you have to fuck to make that happen? Certainly not Rhysand.”
She’ll pay for every cut, every bruise, every damn hair out of place on his head. The carnage behind you, around you, the blood that drips from your body, it’ll stain your very soul for the rest of your life if you manage to escape this, you know that for certain, but her death? You and the monster that lives inside, will relish every last one of her agonizing breaths. You’ll make her beg for mercy, as you had begged on your knees before her in this room, and you’ll take your time doing it.
Amarantha assesses you with the surety of a seasoned warlord, every step closer intentional, getting in range to take a shot at you. You wait, letting her get close enough, and just when she’s sure of her place on this new battlefield, you lunge for her with a speed that shouldn’t be possible, even for a fae. She barely has time to blink before you slash your claws across her face. You go right for her eye, aiming to maim, to make it hurt. She screams as your claws tear through flesh and bone, body spinning to get away from you and your free hand comes up to grab her by the hair and hurl her back towards the dias. She stumbles, barely managing to catch herself on the steps leading to her throne.
Rhys scatters as far back as the chain will allow him to avoid her, but his gaze remains fully fixed on you. A familiar brush of night chilled power brushes over your mind, asking for entry and you try your best to throw a door open, to let him in, but that wall remains between the two of you. You can feel him there, on the other side, trying to reach you, but the wall won’t come down.
There’s no time to try another way to reach him either, not when Amarantha starts throwing fire balls at your head. “You stupid, little bitch!” She screams. “I take you in, I offer to train you, to befriend you and you thank me like this?”
The eye on her ring swivels to look at the damage you’ve made in its master’s face in a move that looks strangely… impressed.
You dodge the first couple of throws she makes, letting them hit old cushions and tables. The next throw, you reach out a hand and catch the ball of flame. The fire would have blistered your skin, should make you scream in agony, but in this form, like this? You draw that power inside you as easy as you draw a breath, the crackle of flames like a drug in your veins. It’s intoxicating. When she throws more, her anger becoming more and more tangible and her shots more wild then the last, you take those in too, savoring it until it bubbles up in the pit of your stomach and you have no other choice but to hurl it back at her in a blast she just barely manages to shield herself from.
Distracted with keeping the shield up, you rush her again, drawing in the power she expels from her shield with ease so that there is nothing stopping you from getting a hand around her throat, lifting her up into the air and slamming her down against the marble floors so hard they crack beneath her. Amarantha screams around the hand clamped down around her windpipe as you pick her up and slam her down two more times.
She is still a formidable opponent, she manages to summon an ice pick and jam it into your wrist to free herself as you reel away with a howl of pain.
Rhys is still trying to reach you, throwing all his mental energy into breaking through, even as you watch his body slump a little more and more next to Amarantha’s throne. You want to scream for him, tell him to stop before he hurts himself anymore, but the words get lost as the collar’s power burns through you in retaliation for not immediately killing Amarantha. The pain of her ice pick in your wrist is nothing to the heat that emanates from the collar, the pain the only thing in all this time to make your legs shake. The pain doesn’t dissipate until you land a punch in Amarantha’s face, her nose breaking under your knuckles. The collar demands blood and it will have it.
No one in the crowd moves to help her, those that remain stay pressed against the walls, watching in horror as the two of you fight it out. There’s a strange sort of glee in the air, as the oppressed relish in their oppressor’s certain demise. If there are any guards left, they don’t come to save her.
You swing for her head again, but she dodges at the last second, your fist cracking the marble beneath you a second time.
Spitting blood, she manages to get off the floor, fists raised to protect her ruined face.
You snarl at her, one of the few sounds the collar will allow, and she throws as much ice and snow at you as she can, mingling it with bits of fire. She lets her claws sharpen at her fingertips, trying to make herself into a beast as formidable as you, but it won’t save her. Her blows do little and you can take satisfaction in the fact that she can no longer hurt you in this form, at least. You absorb what you can and let the rest bounce off you as you stalk closer, pushing her further back until she stumbles on the steps leading to her throne. Fitting, that she die here at the base.
She throws a blast of darkness at you, a blast of your mate’s power, twisted and wrong in her hands and it’s the only thing she’s thrown thus far that makes your body tremble. The collar rattles at your throat, shaken but not loosened. You growl out a shuddering breath as you push through the waves of energy and push your hand right into her chest. Bones break and split beneath your hands, her blood warm as your hand sinks into her chest cavity.
Amarantha gasps in surprise, in pain, as your fingers wrap around her still beating heart. Her dark eyes widen with fear, mouth hanging open as blood pools in the corners of her lips.
“Please,” she gurgles. She knows she’s going to die either way, but now, for the first time, she’s powerless. As powerless as all the people she has harmed over the years.
Your fingers tighten, her body as resistant as her shields beneath your hands. All those powers she’s stolen lash against you: A bit of light and darkness, ice and fire and water in a last ditch effort to save herself. Yet, your body pulls it in greedily as you get a solid grip on her beating heart.
None of this feels real, possible. This is something out of your books back home.
“Please,” she rasps. As if she had ever shown any of you mercy, as if she had not demanded that you beg at her feet and then laughed in your face. “Please.”
And there, at the foot of her oh so precious throne, in front of her dark court, you rip the Queen’s heart right out of her chest, silencing that grating voice for eternity.
You don’t even get to relish in the victory, to appreciate for even a second that you are all finally free of her, not when all that power she’d stolen swirls around you. The void that makes up your skin draws it in, waves of ice and water and flame swirling like a tornado around your body. The collar hums gleefully in your ears, as if this was its plan all along. It’s too much at once, bringing you to your knees as the influx of power in your veins has your head pounding mercilessly in your skull. Spots dance around your vision, the world spinning and flipping. There is not enough air in Prythian to help you breath against the influx of power. This was why she was always smoking the mirthroot. No one person could hold this much power at once. It will tear up your insides, ruin your mind, your soul.
“Y/N?” Rhys reaches for you, despite his shackles, his voice slurred. Just like in the Pit, you think it will be horror you see on his face, but it is only concern for you, not of you.
Your mate, wearing a collar just as you are. Your mate who was punished for not keeping you beneath the Mountain. Your mate who’s powers now swirl around beneath your skin like the dark whisper of a shadow. Your mate now splattered with Amarantha’s blood as he reaches a hand out to you, as if he could somehow save you from this wild thing tearing up your insides. The Cauldron had been merciless, cold, and empty, but this is like being roasted alive, the fire too hot, making the water churning around you boil and steam. Ice pricks against your sensitive skin like a thousand tiny needles. It’s too much. It has to be released somewhere.
Rhys calls for you again, crawling towards you, body so much slower than it should be. Distantly, in that small part of you still aware of yourself, you know you need to give his powers back to him. His powers will speed his healing; his powers might just save him from you, but that wall is still there between you and your body. When you try to reach for him the collar pulses so intensely with heat you jerk back away from him, sliding down the steps with a whimper.
Rhys manages to get on his feet, swaying under all that mirthroot. “Y/N!”
His voice is so loud in your ears. Everything is too much. The brush of the throne’s steps against your feet, the swirl of water around your body, even the air in the room feels like it’s pressing against your skin. You throw out a hand, trying to make it stop, sending spikes of ice in all directions.
It must have hit the chain around Rhys’s neck because a moment later he’s stumbling down the steps to take your face in hand, the powers swirling around you be damned. “Focus on me,” he orders.
Your head is going to explode.
His strong hands grip your face, “Right here. Breathe. You’re ok. Just breathe.”
Why is he screaming? Your hands move despite yourself to shove him off you, to try and make the world quiet for five seconds. This is too much. You can’t bear it. You know you’re screaming because the collar retaliates against it, using the powers you’ve stolen to wound you further for the rebellion, but you can’t stop. The Mountain begins to shake and rumble, loose rock and debris falling in waves overhead.
Light and darkness pour out of you in blinding waves, the swaying movement in sync to your heartbeat. It’s a pulse that slams into the Mountain’s own magic, beating relentlessly until more chunks of the rock get hurled away, letting more light in. More people scatter, their screams mingling with your own.
“You can do this,” Rhys encourages, and when you finally manage to get your gaze to where he still kneels beside you. “Just breathe.”
“This is a new side of you Rhysand.” The world tilts. The pounding in your head makes the echo of approaching boots feel like every step has been made atop your skull. “I never would have thought you’d be offering up your services as a teacher, I thought you’d prefer to be on your back.”
Hybern walks into view, armor glinting, sword in hand.
No!
“Stop this,” Rhys begs and the sight of him like that, on his knees, makes you want to rip your father to shreds. “Let go of her! That collar will kill her.”
“Only if she fights it,” Hybern says with a shrug.
Blood trickles out your nose in inky black droplets, splattering the floor. When you lean forward and heave, more black goo comes out your mouth.
“I will give you anything,” Rhys pleads.
“Is this love?” Hybern sneers.
He does not wait for an answer as he turns to you and says, “Kill him, Y/N, I’ve waited long enough.”
No amount of mentally bashing yourself against the walls that cage you stop you from reaching out a hand and using a bit of Rhys’s own power to throw him across the room, his body bouncing off the marble.
It feels as if you’re lifting the Mountain just to get back on your feet, body swaying. Blood still drips from your nose. There might never be enough release of all this power to make the pain in your temples fade.
Rhys struggles to get to his feet, arms shaking beneath him. You’ve split open his cheek and temple. He’s barely managed to get up before you hurl more shadows at him, the dark mist lashing like a whip, cutting open his shoulder, his side.
Stop! Stop! Stop! By the Cauldron, he’s your mate! You can’t do this to him!
“Y/N,” Rhys slurs, voice breaking and you’re sure it’s the cracking of your own heart in your chest.
“Stop playing around,” Hybern orders.
Your body moves despite your efforts, lunging forward, fists flying. Rhys does his best to dodge, but he puts up no real effort, letting blow after blow land when he gets too tired to keep up.
Fight back. Please, by the Cauldron, fight back!
You manage to get a hand around his throat and you slam him so hard into the wall it cracks, his body nearly limp in your grip.
Stop. Stop. Stop!
“It’s ok,” he rasps. He’s not even trying to pry you off. “It’s not your fault.”
You’re going to die. If he dies, at your hand, you will not recover from this. Hybern might as well have killed you back at the Temple, there will be no saving you.
Violet eyes meet yours. There is no fear there, only understanding, only compassion.
You mentally throw yourself at the wall stopping you from regaining control over your body, bashing against it with everything you have. The collar’s power burns through you like boiling water in your veins. For your mate, your selfless, self-sacrificing mate, you’ll take whatever agony it can throw at you. It can’t end like this!
“I love you,” Rhys says, hands brushing over your claws. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
No. No. No!
Your claws tighten around his throat, drawing blood, as he gasps for air.
The collar rattles against your skin from how hard you’re fighting it, the metal hissing and screaming in your ears. You’re not going to let this happen. After everything you’ve been through, you can’t let Hybern win. He’s just a man. You’re a goddess, you will not be shackled to some mortal’s will. He will not take your mate from you, even if you have to fight Death yourself for him.
Darkness leaks from you. Your other fist slams into the wall next the Rhys’s head as your body spasms under the collar’s control.
“It’s ok,” Rhys whispers.
Spots swim across your vision, so damn fast they start to look like shadows. The world spins. The fire in your veins is unbearable. So much so that your body’s self-preservation finally kicks in and the hand around Rhys’s throat finally unlatches to let you grasp at the collar.
Rhys collapses, coughing at your feet as you tug at the metal fused to your skin, trying to pull it off. It’s not full control, but if you can keep pushing…
The room keeps spinning, end over end, the blood red marble at your feet now at the ceiling. Your stomach’s in your throat as your knees give out beneath you. You think you might be screaming again but the collar hums so loud you can’t hear anything over it. Still, you claw and yank at it with everything you’ve got.
“Stop fighting, Y/N,” Hybern orders.
Every breath feels like a battle. “Fuck…” the metal peels away from your skin like you’re ripping off a bandaid, skin coming with it. “You!” You snarl, voice ragged and gone.
He’s not going to beat you.
You get a claw beneath the metal, tearing through your own skin, it’s the only thing sharp enough to reach through the void.
“That’s enough!” Hybern screams.
The High Lord’s powers are yours, not Hybern’s, not the collar’s, not a product of the Cauldron. Yours. You push as much of Rhys’s darkness into your palms as you can, let that dark, glittering power slither its way beneath the collar.
Rhys manages to get up again, face bruised and bloodied. “Y/N!”
After everything, you’re not going to let him die, no matter what it costs you.
You get both hands around the collar, push whatever power you have into your palms until the heat of Autumn’s flames make the metal soft in your grip. Hybern is still yelling orders, but the don’t matter. If this kills you in the end, at least you’ll go knowing he didn’t get his precious Death Goddess. If you go, he looses.
With one last, rattling scream, you rip the collar off and the darkness pulsing from your body swallows you whole.
---
It’s all darkness. Not the Cauldron’s darkness. Not the Void that makes up your being. Not the darkness of your mate. It’s empty. Cold. Quiet. It has no beginning or ending, no borders or boundaries. It flows and ebbs like a tide, carrying your broken body along.
Broken. It’s a strange feeling, teetering along the edge of death itself, the pain a reminder that you’ve not fully topped over into nothingness yet, but it is there, pulling you closer and closer with no tether to the living on the other side of this dark veil.
And yet…
There, above your aching head, spins a single, glowing flower.
In this haze, it’s hard to remember where you’ve seen it before, yet you know, somehow that it’s meant for you.
“Come. Come and see.” It’s that phantom voice from your dreams again, always beckoning, tugging that tiny, little thread you feel blooming in your chest.
You reach for the flower, every muscle feeling like it might tear apart the more you move. It spins just out of reach, drawing you along, against the ebbing tide. Perhaps your eyes are playing tricks on you, but the darkness feels as if it’s getting lighter somehow.
The flower continues to beckon, further and further into the light until you have to shield your eyes against it…
---
Gaining consciousness feels suspiciously like being dropped from nothingness against the icy bite of the marble floors. Even being remade inside the Cauldron didn’t feel entirely as jarring as whatever that was.
Strong hands stroke your cheeks, moving your hair aside from your aching forehead. “Please, please, come back.” Rhys whispers, voice cracking.
His tears drip along your cheeks and it takes all your effort to drag an eye open to look at him. “I’m not…” it feels like you’re talking around a throatful of gravel. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Your mate lets out a sob as he drags your aching body into his arms, chest heaving as he cries into your hair. Over his shoulder, you can see the destruction behind him, the Mountain in shambles, what’s left of Amarantha near her throne. But Hybern is nowhere to be found.
Rhys pulls away just enough to kiss your forehead, your cheeks, “I thought you were dead.”
“I am a goddess after all,” you grumble. You certainly don’t feel divine by any means. “Kinda hard to kill me.”
He laughs through his tears, as he holds you tighter.
You let yourself lean into his touch, eyes closing. The worst of it is over, and yet, it all hits you at once. “I’m sorry,” you rasp into his skin. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re safe,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “That’s all that matters.”
“Hybern-”
His arms tighten around you, “Don’t worry, Darling. We’re going to make sure he pays for everything he’s done.”
------------
*Thank you all for sticking with this story, I know my posting times have been sporadic lately, rest assured I will see this through. =)*
Tag List:
@mariahoedt, @lovelydove, @twsssmlmaa, @sleepylunarwolf, @judig92, @willowpains, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @annnnnaaaaa88, @myheartfollower, @uniquecolorwizard, @eternallyelvish, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @lovemesomeevesy, @localfangirl09, @isa1b2h3, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @slytherintaco, @iluvewmanblog, @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife, @kitsunetori, @lilah-asteria, @dianxiaxie, @msoldier, @amara-moonlight, @darling006, @92404-blog1, @genniecokkie
#Rhys x reader#rhysand x reader#Rhys x reader angst#rhys x reader smut#UTM!Rhys x reader#acotar rhys#rhysand fic#acotar fic#acotar fanfic#my writing#my fic#datura series
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It's the first of June, y'all know what that means..
Welcome to the first chapter of my next generation ACOTAR fiction, A Witch A Warrior And A Reckoning, ACT 1- The Witch (link at bottom of the post)
Protagonists:
Dahlia Fairburn, General and Heir of Spring
Aisling Sapphirus, Healer of the Hewn City
Nyx Archeron, Son of the Witch
Relationships:
Dahlia Fairburn x Aisling Sapphirus
Nyx Archeron x Tamlin Fairburn
Azriel Shadowsinger x Eris Vanserra
Nuan x Lucien Vanserra
Original Azris Child(ren) x Tarquin
Summary
Life is peaceful for Dahlia Fairburn, running with her War Band, and commanding the Spring Court armies. Since the day she could wield a sword, she's been helping her father, along with her younger brother, to restore Spring to its former glory. Trying to ignore the festering magic in her body, that threatens to consume her.
One day, all that peace is threatened to be shaken, as a certain prince of Night asks for her to join the rebellion of the Hewn City and Illyria. From beneath the great mountains, an ancient song calls for her. She meets a woman with death in her eyes, and power in her veins, who makes Dahlia's blood boil while something clicks into place between them.
This new generation of Prythian was thought to be one of peace and prosperity. But the mask of the reigning High Lords begin to crumble, as secrets older than Prythian itself are uncovered, and darkness is unleashed.
An ACOTAR next generation fanfiction
I hope y'all have fun with this fic!
Tags:
@sonics-atelier, @shi-daisy,
@sadisticdevile, @praetorqueenreyna,
@skyesayshi, @futurehunt
@mathiwrites
#acotar#tamlin's daughter#tamlin's children#acotar next gen#acotar next generation#dahlia fairburn#aisling sapphirus#eden fairburn#blaze sapphirus#aesira vanserra#cynthia vanserra#nyx archeron#tamlin#pro tamlin#lucien vanserra#pro lucien vanserra#rhysand#feyre archeron#nesta archeron#pro nesta archeron#elain archeron#pro elain archeron#nuan acotar#nyxlin#tarquin acotar#helion acotar#lady of autumn#acotar au#acotar fanfiction#acotar fanfic
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And I'm Thinking About Your Lips
Pairing: Reader x Cassian
Summary: You and Cassian have been best friends since you were teenagers-- just friends. But one night at Rita's changes everything and now you cant breathe when you're around him and he can't stop imagining how you'd taste.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT! like porn with plot aka: best friends to lovers, sexual tension, alcohol use, drunken handsy moments, two dummies in love, male masturbation, unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk, sex sex sex! we love sex!!
Word Count: 19k (a biggie!)
a/n: heavily inspired by my fav song mistakes like this by prelow. give it a listen for the vibes ;) I was going to make this multiple parts but decided against it. lets imagine Rita's like a lil more modern club okay mwuah enjoy.
Part Two
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Rita's was loud.
On busy nights like these, the place was a complete sensory overload– live music with thumping bass and swirling laughter. The air was thick with the mingling scents of sweat, perfume, and the occasional waft of arousal, a delicious smell that often lingered in Rita’s. You loved nights like these, loved the energy that came with finally being able to let go. You let out a content sigh as you watched people dance across the dimly lit club, enjoying the music that vibrated through their bones.
You stood next to Cassian at the bar, leaning against the smooth surface as you awaited the drinks you had ordered. He was in the middle of telling you a story-- or at least you think it was a story. You couldn't tell.
"What?" you exclaimed loudly, leaning forward in a futile attempt to decipher his response. Frustration etched across your face, you took a step back, gazing up at Cassian. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you shook your head while gesturing emphatically to your ears. "I can't hear," you mouthed, hoping he'd understand.
Cassian's initial confusion gave way to realization, his mouth forming a distinct "Ooooh." Leaning down, he bridged the distance between you, his lips hovering above your ear to deliver his words in a loud whisper.
And then it happened—a giggling drunk couple bumped into Cassian, disrupting his balance. His lips, which had initially hovered near your ears, now made a brief but intimate contact, running along the shell of your ear.
Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, the warmth permeating your entire body. Or perhaps it was the pulsating energy of the crowded dancefloor. Whatever it was, you felt it—a shiver tracing a path down your neck, following the curve of your spine. Awareness dawned on you—his proximity, his breath on your ears, the almost electric closeness of your cheeks, the way his disheveled hair framed his face.
He pulled away, a smile playing on his lips. He mouthed something, but you were lost in a daze, barely registering that those plump, red lips were actually forming words.
"Y/n?" he called out, raising his voice to be heard over the music. "You got that?"
Blinking, you shook your head, dispelling the lingering traces of your thoughts. A smile curved on your lips as you replied, "Yup."
You had no idea what he said, hadn't caught a word of what he was whispering in your ear. But at that moment, it didn't seem to matter. Internally, you chastised yourself— it's just the alcohol, that's all it is. After all, Cassian had always been attractive. You just happened to be drunk and noticed it a little bit more. Appreciating the beauty of your best friend, completely platonically.
The bartender returned with your ordered drinks, placing them on the bar with a lingering gaze that hinted at an appreciation for more than just the cocktail he had crafted—one directed entirely at you. Your attention, however, was occupied by the lively atmosphere around you as you spared the bartender a quick glance, grabbing your drink. Cass, on the other hand, picked up on the admiration, staring at the bartender and tucking away the information in the back of his mind.
As you both turned to leave, Cassian's movements synchronized with yours and his arm rubbed against your own, sending a subtle brush of warmth through you. You paused for a beat. The warmth was still there. You hated it. A realization dawned – you needed more alcohol.
With a silent determination, you gave Cassian a "one moment" gesture, holding up a finger. Cass watched as you turned back toward the bar, leaning forward to catch the bartender's attention. When he turned to face you, you placed your hand lightly over his.
"Actually," you said with a smile, “Can we get two extra shots? Of your strongest."
The bartender gave you a smile back and nodded in acknowledgment. In no time, two additional shots, robust and potent, joined the lineup, arranged neatly on the polished surface. Cassian frowned, flickering his gaze between you and the shots. You felt his presence as he leaned in and instinctively took a step back, not turning to look him in the eyes.
“We’re taking another round?”
“Nope.” You said, popping the p. Without hesitation, you downed them both with a practiced ease. Finally, you looked up at him, making a face as the liquor made its way down your throat. “Those were for me.” Your voice came out in a croak.
Cassian raised an eyebrow in surprise, a playful smirk playing on his lips.
“Someone is getting hammered tonight."
You simply nodded, a nonchalant "mhmm" escaping your lips. The alcohol ignited a warmth that spread through your veins, momentarily overshadowing any reservations. With the edge taken off, you were ready to rejoin your friends– with the exception of Amren, who was “too busy” to join tonight.
Cassian led the way back to the booth, his hand finding its familiar place at the small of your back. Cass always did this when at Ritas, a gesture to ensure that you weren’t swept away by the sea of people. Yet, this time, it felt different. As he guided you through the lively crowd, you couldn't ignore the heat that radiated from his touch. Your heart quickened its pace. Its the alcohol-induced haze, you told yourself. Thats all.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Two hours later, Rita’s was still pulsating with energy and you were absolutely wasted. The vibrant atmosphere seemed to blend seamlessly with the warmth of your intoxication and everything around you seemed to echo with life.
You, Mor, and Feyre slowly returned to the booth for a much-needed break, hands interlaced with one another and glasses still full, waiting to be enjoyed. In your inebriated state, you teetered back and forth as you made your way to the booth, plopping down next to your best friend.
At your arrival, Cassian sat up right, waiting for you to do what you always did—lay your head on his shoulder. And, like clockwork, you fell into place, your head finding its familiar spot on Cassian's shoulder.
"Look who decided to join the land of the living," Cassian teased as he nudged you gently. You felt him adjust his seating, his wings moving to accommodate your presence. The booths at Rita’s were large, the seats extra wide and spacious— for many reasons. You didn’t think too long about the ways people used the extra space.
Instead, you chuckled at Cassian’s comment, the alcohol-infused haze making everything seem delightfully amusing. "Jus' exploring alternate universes on the danceflooooooor."
The sound of your voice and the way you dragged out your words set Cassian into a small fit of laughter, a rich melody that blended with the music. The sound vibrated through his body and you felt his chest and his shoulders rise with it. The laughter resonated in your own as a result.
"Alternate universes, huh?” He asked, “That why you were grinding on Mor like a horned-up teenager?"
Craning your head slightly to look up at him, you gasped dramatically, feigning offense. He was already looking at you, his face tilted to the side to meet your eyes. There was a clear sense of amusement written into his face, the corners of his mouth turned up, a certain glow in his eyes.
"I was not! How dare you judge me?" With a determined glint in your, now narrowed, eyes you added, "I never judge how you practically dry hump every woman you dance with."
Your best friend's lips curled into a grin, and his eyebrows lifted for a moment. There was a playful roll of his lips before he nodded, slightly chuckling. You got him there.
"Okay, whatever."
You watched as he took a sip of his drink with his other hand, then lowered it to rest the glass on his knee. Leaning back a bit, a small giggle escaped your lips at nothing in particular. Then, you let out a laugh.
"You're wasted." Cassian stated matter of factly, turning his head to look at where yours lay on his shoulder. Your laughter continued for a moment, ending with a sound of content.
"Maybe." You replied as you leaned back a little, your head lolling backwards. Your eyes, framed by thick lashes, found Cassian's. You looked at him for a moment, taking in his face, his intense gaze focused on you.
"You're real attractive, Cass," you murmured, the words carrying a sincerity that caught him off guard.
Cassian didn't know why his heart leaped at your words. This wasn't something new. You had complimented him multiple times before. He knew he was attractive-- he knew you knew he was attractive. But there was something different this time, something in the way you bit your lip, gnawing at it with your teeth, the genuine look in your eyes.
"You think so?" he said. You wondered how his voice could be so soft, yet so husky. How was that possible?
You nodded lazily, not breaking the intense eye contact. "Mhm," you affirmed.
Cassian's gaze shifted, and suddenly he found himself studying your face. Your head tilted back, he took in the sight of your lips, the stunning makeup enhancing your features. You were gorgeous, he’d always known this-- everyone who saw you thought the same. But you were best friends, and the strength of your bond lessened the urge to explore thoughts of you that went farther than simple observation.
"You're not too bad yourself."
You perked up a bit.
"Yeah?" you asked eagerly.
Cassian gave a chuckle at your enthusiastic reply, noticing the way your eyes lit up behind their drunken haze. But before he could say anything more, Mor appeared, her hands outstretched, ready to pull you back onto the dancefloor.
"Y/n," She said, "Come danceeeee."
You looked up at her, your body slowly moving up right.
"But Cass and I-"
Mor whined.
"Feyre abandoned me for Rhys and Azriel is too busy being a gargoyle."
You snickered at her words, your gaze drifting over to where the Shadowsinger sat across the booth, a small grin on his mouth as he brought his cup to his lips. Then, you looked towards the dance floor, a sea of moving bodies with each person lost in the rhythm of the music. Sure enough, your gaze settled on Feyre and Rhysand, deeply entwined as they danced against one another, their bodies swaying together.
You returned your gaze to Mor, with her outstretched hands and a pouty face. You grinned, and she let out a small shriek of excitement at your wordless answer.
You placed a hand on Cassian's thigh, giving a small pat as you forced yourself up, the other hand in Mor's grasp. Cass held his hands up to stabilize you.
You turned to face him, your body slightly swaying.
"See ya later, Commander."
You gave him a drunken salute, the gesture slow and sloppy, before Mor whisked you away to the dance floor.
Cassian watched your figure as you retreated to the dance floor, unable to look away. He could still feel the lingering warmth on his thigh from where your hand had rested, as if an imprint of your touch had been left behind– he half-expected to undo his pants and find a charred handprint, a mirror image of yours. Your delicate hands, your soft skin, your slender fingers..... the thought sent a jolt of desire through him.
Stop it. Cassian's brain scolded him.
But still, his gaze drifted to where you were lost in the lively throng of bodies. The live music pulsed around you, guiding your movements as you moved with your usual demeanor of grace. The way you swayed to the rhythm, the fluidity of your gestures, it was mesmerizing. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to dance with you the way you were on Mor, without the barriers of friendship. To feel your body pressed against his, to lose himself in the rhythm and the heat that seemed to radiate from both of you.
His eyes trailed your body, taking in every curve and movement, and suddenly, he began to notice the way other males and females were doing the same.
He felt a growing anger stir within him, an emotion he had never felt before, not when it came to you. It was a possessive rage, a primal instinct that told him he needed to protect you from these observers. The bodies around you, their gazes lingering on your body, only fueled the fire within him. They shouldn't be looking at you like that. They weren't worth your time--- weren't worthy of being able to admire you the way they were. He should do some-
His musings were abruptly interrupted by a chuckle from Azriel.
The sound jolted Cassian back to the present, and he turned to find his brother looking at him with an amused expression. Annoyance crept into Cassian's features as he asked,
"What?"
Az's amusement deepened, and he replied nonchalantly, "Nothing."
Although Azriel's response seemed innocent, there was a knowing glint in his eyes, a small smirk that he covered by bringing his cup to his lips. Cass was well aware that Az was hinting at something, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to care. All he could focus on was the uncomfortable heat in his stomach, feeling as if he was suffering from intense heartburn. But funnily enough, the feeling only grew heavier when he looked at you.
Azriel down his drink before grabbing Cassian’s attention.
"Let's get you another drink."
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
The night had surrendered to the early hours of the morning, casting a dreamlike glow over the city as you and your friends stumbled out of the vibrant chaos that was Rita's. The streets, now filled with the remnants of the night's revelry, echoed with the laughter and inebriated chatter of others who were also bidding farewell to a night spent well.
You walked alongside Cas and Mor, Feyre and Rhysand a few steps ahead. Azriel had left an hour prior; a smug expression adorned his face as he escorted a striking male with brown hair and green eyes-- the very one who had generously bought him drinks throughout the night.
You looked at the mated pair ahead of you, Rhysand's arm draped casually around Feyre’s shoulder. You watched as he leaned in, whispering something in her ear. Feyre suddenly stilled and turned around, an evident blush lingering on her cheeks. Rhysand looked at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes, then he turned his gaze toward your group, mirthful mischief etched across his face.
"We're not feeling that well, so we're going to go sleep." Rhysand declared, his words dripping with a level of unseriousness that made you want to laugh. But, not even Rhys could take himself seriously, the corners of his mouth soon turning up to form a pearly-white grin.
Feyre playfully slapped his chest, but the grin on Rhysand’s face grew even wider, brightened by a child-like glee. With a final shared glance, the mated pair left. You smiled to yourself, thinking about how evident the couple’s love was and how much it made you want something similar.
Before you knew it, only you and Cassian were left. Mor, who had been walking side by side with you both, had halted abruptly. A smile played on her lips. "I've got somewhere I want to go," she announced cryptically, winking before disappearing.
The intoxication in your veins rendered winnowing out of the question – too drunk to focus, and Cassian couldn't fly without risking an aerial mishap that involved either vomit or an unexpected plummet. Both options were less than ideal, so you both continued walking, the cool night air beginning to clear the remnants of your alcohol-induced hazes.
Cassian watched as you moved with a certain lightness, the effects of the drinks still lingering in your movements. Suddenly, you spun around, catching him off guard. His hands flew out instinctively, prepared to catch you if you lost your balance, but you paid no attention to the movement. Instead, you looked up at him with a small frown.
"Hey," you began, your words still slightly slurred. "How come everyone's getting some tonight, and here we are, feeling left out?"
He watched you for a moment, your stature, your slow blinks, how intensely you were staring at him. Cassian grinned. His eyes, veiled by a layer of playful charm, fixated on yours.
"Well, I'm right here,” He declared, “Say the word, and I'm all yours, allll night long.”
Cassain ensured that his words were delivered with a teasing tone, a tone he prayed masked the underlying desire he felt. You didn’t notice. All you could focus on was the burning in your chest, the way your heart tugged at his response. This was nothing out of the usual, Cassian flirted with you all the time. Cassian flirted with everyone.
So you let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the quiet night.
"Oh, please. You're such a pig," you retorted playfully, adding a mockingly dramatic eye roll. Then you swallowed, forcing your next words out. "Never. Could you imagine?”
You didn’t want to see his face as he answered the question, too worried that it would hurt you in some way if he reacted appalled and disgusted. So, you turned yourself around and began walking again, focusing on the cobblestone road underneath your feet, at the cold air starting to bite at you.
There was a quiet pause, and then you heard the small laughter of your best friend. He wouldn’t tell you where his mind wandered, now, when he thought of you, wouldn’t acknowledge the hurt that nestled itself quietly in the recesses of his thoughts.
“No. I couldn’t.”
Another pause. Despite being out in the open, breathing in the fresh night air, you began to feel stuffy. A sense of discomfort wrapped itself around you.
"How come you didn't go home with anyone?" You asked. You gnawed at your lip, waiting for his response, observing his reaction from the corner of your eye.
Cassian raised an eyebrow. He stopped to look at you, and you stilled, turning slightly to face him. When he gave you no response, you let out a small sigh.
"Y’know, like that one redhead giving you eyes back at the bar."
You did your best to disguise the subtle irritation lingered in your tone, but beneath it, you felt a sense of bubbling jealousy. How was Cass so unaware? How come you were so aware?
Cassian's eyes widened slightly as he scrambled to recall the moment. Panic briefly flickered in his eyes as he realized he hadn't even noticed anyone else, his attention consumed by you. “Ohhh, her?” He finally responded, “Nah, tonight was just about hanging out with all of you. Y’know, family time.”
You felt a smile tugging at your cheeks. Family time didn’t stop Azriel, or Feyre and Rhysand. In your gut, you knew that it hadn’t stopped Mor either, the look on her face as she left screamed of a sudden lustful advance. Cassian’s answer deeply satisfied a part of you, for reasons you couldn't decipher at the moment. Your smile widened when he gave you a fond smile of his own.
“Big ole’ sap.” You teased, affectionately nudging him with your shoulder.
You fell into another comfortable rhythm, walking alongside each other in silence as the echoes of night behind you slowly faded. Cassian could hear you humming faintly to yourself and a warmth filled his chest. You often hummed when you walked. When you were drunk, it was always a guarantee. Cass used to use it as a meter for your sobriety, detecting how drunk you were based on how horrible your humming was. Currently, it sounded angelic. But he wasn’t sure if he could trust his own judgment, not now, not when it came to you. Even as you walked side-by-side, he felt the urge to get you closer, made the effort to ensure your hands swung next to one another— that you bumped into his bicep every now and then as you walked. What was wrong with him? And why did you smell so good?
Cass cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly to look at you.
“So, uh, speaking of people, why didn’t you go home with the bartender?”
You stopped abruptly, caught off guard by question. Cassian, too, halted in his tracks, a subtle maneuver to avoid colliding with your shoulder. Turning to face him, your eyes sought his in the dim light. "The bartender?" Confusion furrowed your brow.
His gaze, laden with an unspoken curiosity, met yours. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”
You paused, your thoughts weaving through the blurred memories of the night. Every image was muddled in your mind, a fusion of moving bodies and your hands picking up new drinks. God, how many did you take? You couldn’t remember. Your memory was hazy, unfocussed. There was only one thing in your mind that shone in perfect clarity– only one person. And it wasn’t the bartender.
“Guess I didn’t.” You shrugged.
Cassian thought back to the bartender, a handsome male with short brown hair and blue eyes. The way he had stared at you, the way he had smiled. Cass’s mind found the memory of you reaching over the bar, your hand over the bartender’s, leaning in to request another drink. A flash of your smile. He fought the urge to make a face.
"Yup,” He said, “Gave you eyes the entire night. Half surprised they didn't fall out and follow you home."
He didn’t intend to sound bitter, didn’t mean for it to drip from the words he spoke. He couldn’t help it. But, by the look on your face, you hadn’t noticed. Yet again. Cassian let out a breath. It took a moment for his words to settle into your mind, and then you let out a snicker at the image painted by them. He grinned at the sound.
"Well then, I'm really surprised I didn't notice."
And you were. You were usually good at these things, at recognizing advances. You picked up on lingering gazes and touches that were one second too long. If Cassian was referring to the bartender you were thinking of, then he had been very attractive. On another night, you would have definitely noticed— and definitely taken the opportunity. But not tonight. Tonight was different, felt different.
"Can't blame him," Cassian remarked, a touch of sincerity in his voice. "You are beautiful."
You blinked, your mouth parting slightly in shock. The words sent a flutter to your chest, and you could feel heat on your cheeks. You shook it off, letting out a sound of amusement and disbelief. It came out as a quiet snort. "Shut up."
"Not even mentioning all the males and females that were ogling you while you danced with Mor."
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You were sure that the blush on your cheeks was on full display and only hoped that Cassian would assume it was caused by the chilly night air. You couldn't look at him. Instead, you shook your head, your eyes looking into the distance. Then, you rolled them and scoffed. "Oh, please. Now you’re just lying.”
You felt his eyes on you, still. You slowly moved your head to look at him once more, watching as his expression subtly shifted.
"No, seriously. It's like some couldn't keep their eyes off you."
Cassian's gaze still lingered on you, unexpectedly soft and genuine. His features bathed in a tender glow, a small smile on his lips. His disheveled hair, tousled by the night's breeze, framed his face in a way that made you itch to rake your fingers through. For a moment, time seemed to pause as you stared at your best friend, your eyes tracing the contours of his shoulders and the majestic wings that adorned his back.
You found yourself taking him in for a minute too long, staring like he wasn’t right in front of you. The realization creeped up on you and you quickly looked away, finding somewhere, anywhere other than his gaze, to focus on.
"Well, whatever," You muttered, turning yourself around to continue walking forward. You heard Cassian’s steps pick up behind you. “I’m over being casual. I’m tired of being with lame males who never make me finish, males who are so boring and entitled, males that are so stupid I begin to question my life decisions. All of it.”
Cassian's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing as he tried to process what you had offhandedly mentioned. "Wait, what?" he said, his voice filled with confusion. "No one has ever made you finish?"
You weren’t paying full attention to what Cassian was saying, too caught up in your own thoughts and monologue about your new aversion to casual hookups. You waved him off, continuing to walk forward.
Cassian's mind raced with thoughts of you and the males you had been with. He pictured you together, each of them trying their best to please you, their faces contorted with effort, their bodies moving in a frenzy. He pictured some outright ignoring your experience, jackknifing again and again, rutting into you like wild animals. But in his mind's eye, you remained distant, your face bored and vacant, making noises for show.
He wanted to growl. He could do better, could give you the pleasure and satisfaction that those males had failed to provide. The thought was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be with you, to make you feel the way you deserved. Had they truly not taken the time to worship you? To explore your body, pray to it like it was sacred?
His mind painted a picture of you together, your bodies entwined, a room filled with the smell of sex. He saw himself looking into your eyes, his focus on your pleasure. You moaning underneath him, wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering his name. Cassian. Cassian. The image was intoxicating— he felt a stirring in his cock, a longing that settled heavy in his stomach.
But it was short lived. Quickly, a sense of guilt washed through him, flooding through his veins. Here you were, talking about your life and feelings, and he was imagining you naked, underneath him, your face contorted in pleasure. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be thinking of this. He should be listening to you, his best friend, and giving you advice. He aggressively shoved his thoughts away, putting a lock on the visions of you that were manifesting in his mind. With a deep breath, he told his deteriorating self-discipline that he could think of those beautiful images later, when it was just him and his hand in the solace of his room.
He found himself grateful that you were walking ahead of him, that the night air provided a distraction, a physical discomfort that could dampen his desires. It was cold out now, the breeze seemingly more nippy. It sobered him up, ridding the effects of the alcohol in his veins and his drunken feelings of lust.
It was cold out. His eyes snapped up to you walking ahead of him, rubbing your arms absentmindedly. You were cold. How had he not realized?
Because you’re a horny prick who can’t seem to remember your place in her life. His mind screamed at him. He knew it was right.
"I just want to find someone who can connect with me on a deeper level. Someone who sees me.” You said with a defeated sigh. You stopped for a minute, looking back as Cassian caught up to you, the war general having fallen behind, distracted by his own thoughts.
Finally reaching you, he gave you a look that you’d never seen before, and you slightly frowned from being unable to read him. But soon, his face softened, and he put his hand on your arm. The touch was tender, despite his large, rough hands, and it sent a warmth throughout your body that combated the cool air.
"Y'know, you could get anyone you wanted."
His voice, sincere and quiet, took the breath out of your lungs.
Well, not anyone. The thought flitted through your mind. You ignored it.
He smiled at you, a warmth in his gaze that set your heart on fire. “Lets get you home.”
Cassian draped his arm around you, his hand rubbing your biceps as you instinctively leaned into the comforting gesture. When his wings flared out and curled around you both, you felt the flutter in your chest again, a faint warm glow. This time, you let it sit.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Cassian's ability to fly gradually returned with the waning effects of the alcohol, and the rest of the way home had been filled with comfortable silence. You felt the familiar comfort of home envelop you the minute you stepped foot inside, and your room called to you, to your aching body and pounding headache.
As soon as you entered, you didn't waste a moment – walking straight to your bed and simply falling face flat, a groan escaping from your lips. You could feel the throbbing in your head, every movement causing a reaction in both your scalp and deep in your stomach, where a growing sense of nausea was brewing.
"You're gonna be in pain in the morning." Cassian remarked with a chuckle, watching your less-than-graceful landing.
You groaned again, the sound muffled by your sheets. A moment passed, and you heard the sound of Cassian removing his shoes, soon followed by a dip in the bed as he settled in and made himself comfortable. He sighed.
"Gods. Your bed is so damn comfortable."
You lifted your head to look at him, his head leaning on your headboard as he breathed softly. He looked so peaceful, no tension in his face or his body, his eyes closed with the ghost of a content smile on his lips.
“You can sleep here tonight,” You said, “If you’d like.”
The offer felt charged with something you couldn’t quite name, and you felt vulnerable for proposing the idea. Sure, you and Cassian had slept in the same bed together before, but never when you were attracted to him, turned on by his lips touching your ear. Maybe it was a bad idea. You should send him on his way before he gets too comfortable... right?
Cassian's eyes opened, finding your own. "Really?"
Good ideas be damned.
You nodded. "Just don't hog the bed."
You watched as he smiled and settled himself in further, still clad in his button up and trousers. The pounding in your head had slowly calmed to a dull ache, a momentary relief that you knew was bound to end soon. Taking advantage of it, you made a move to push yourself up and get ready for bed, bracing yourself on your forearms. A wave of nausea ran through you again, and your mind began to conjure up images of every drink you had tonight. You groaned.
“Y/n?”
You let out a deep breath. “Yes?”
Cassian could hear the discomfort in your voice, and he sat up straighter, looking at where you lay at the edge of your bed, your head hanging, slightly tilted downwards towards your bed as your forehead resting on your hands.
“Whats going on?” He said, moving closer to you on the bed. You could feel his body next to your head, his thighs rubbing against your forearms.
“Lots of drinks.” You responded, squeezing your eyes shut. “Too many.”
Cass gave a small chuckle, his hand moving to rest on your head. You felt him run his hand through your hair, felt it settle near your neck, right by your shoulders. He moved it in circular motions.
“Let me help you.” His voice was calm and gentle. For a second, you wondered how he was perfectly fine, but then you remembered how well he could hold his alcohol and how quickly he could sober up, if needed. You felt grateful for the latter as you nodded against your hands.
Cassian stood up and slowly wrapped his arm around your back, settling his hand on your shoulder. Then, with the other, he gently took a hold of your forearm, guiding you up from your hunched position.
You didn’t think much as you let Cass guide you, you could feel him next to you, his arms stabilizing you as he helped you maneuver over to the other side of your bed. The whole world felt like it was moving too fast, as if you were the only thing in slow motion. You simultaneously cursed yourself for tonight while wishing you could teleport to four hours ago when you were wasted and the world was perfect.
“You think you can get out of your dress?” He asked you, as he helped you sit down on your bed.
You nodded, looking up at him with a faint smile. “Yeah. Can you…”
Cassian turned to the armoire your outstretched finger pointed to. He nodded. You closed your eyes for a minute, taking another deep breath as you heard him open a drawer and then close it.
“Here.” His voice was still as smooth as before, calm and gentle. It sent a shiver through your body, and you found your heartbeat quickening. Not now, you scolded yourself, you’re on the verge of vomiting. You needed to get a grip. You grabbed the soft nightgown from his hand and Cassian quickly turned around, giving you some privacy.
Your dress was easy to peel off, the small straps sliding off your shoulders with no resistance. You felt the cool air bite at your exposed chest, and quickly pulled the night stress over your head. Then, you carefully stood up, allowing your dress to slide down your legs, and your nightgown to fall properly on your body.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked at Cassian, his back facing to you, his beautiful wings flared out comfortably. A part of you felt so vulnerable with him now, with the way he was touching you, how you had looked at him tonight. Cassian always helped you when you were drunk, it was nothing new, but the feeling lingered nonetheless. You cleared your throat.
“Thank you,” You said, looking at Cass as he turned back around. He couldn’t help as his eyes surveyed your body, and he gave you a small grin.
“Oh, how cute.”
You gave him a small glare, smacking his chest with your hand. And then you slowly crawled into your bed, taking note of how Cassian’s hand hovered over your back until you were settled. He grabbed your covers for you, placing them on you.
“I feel like I’m taking care of a child.” He joked, and you let out a little scoff. He only laughed at your response.
“Just take off your clothes and come sleep before I kick you out.”
You could see the restraint in his face as he stifled his laughter. You could already hear it, a joke about you wanting him naked, a tease about taking him to dinner first. But, instead, Cassian let out a quiet laugh. “Okay.”
You burrowed yourself into your bed, closing your eyes and embracing the warmth of the covers, how nice the soft mattress felt on your aching body. Behind you, you heard the sound of pants and a belt falling to the ground, and within seconds, there was a dip in the bed. Cassian’s smell filled your nose and you welcomed it in, a scent that reminded you of peaceful nights and crackling fires.
“Cass?” You said, slowly turning yourself over to face him. You felt him shift, getting comfortable into the bed, and then he was turning to face you as well.
“Yeah?” He whispered, his voice low.
“Thank you.”
You closed your eyes, your nose still filled with the smell of your best friend, his heat radiating onto your skin. You were out within seconds.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
The air was charged with the metallic tang of sweat and the rhythmic sounds of swords clashing. It was a sight to behold, truly. Azriel and Cassian were both incredibly skilled in combat and their sparring matches were always your favorite to watch. Not only was it beautiful to see, with their fluid motions and strong forms, but it helped you pick up on things you wanted to practice yourself— and any weaknesses you could exploit when you practiced with them. Today, you observed Cassian with a focused intensity as he moved gracefully through his training routine, each motion deliberate and powerful. You found yourself unable to look away, suddenly feeling drymouthed and distracted, swallowing hard. You brought your hand to your mouth, your thumb wiping at your lip as you watched.
Were you attracted to Cassian?
No. The sudden heat you were feeling was due to the heavy sun above you, the strong rays hitting you and your slight dehydration. It had nothing to do with the sweaty, built, and beautiful body of your best friend. It definitely wasn’t the way his muscles rippled as he moved, or the way his sweat lined his abs…
"Enjoying the show, babe?"
You let out a small gasp in surprise, turning your head to the side as Mor approached you, a grin on her red-painted lips.
“You scared the fuck out of me.” You said, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm the quickened beating of your heart.
“I’ve never been able to catch you so off guard,” She mused. “Guess they’re real entertaining today, huh?”
You pursed your lips and looked back over to the two males sparring. They took a step back from one another, taking a momentary break to catch their breaths. Cassian looked over at you, his half-bun had unraveled during the intense training session, with strands of his tousled hair clinging to his forehead, glistening with sweat.
As he caught your gaze, Cassian grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. With a wave of his hand, he gestured toward Azriel, attempting to convey his strategy for the upcoming sparring match. You felt a smile pull at your cheeks as Cassian switched between hovering his hands around his neck to mimic an action of strangulation, and gesturing towards Azriel. Az stood unamused, wiping his forehead with his wrist before taking a large sip of water.
Beside you, Mor observed the scene with a raised eyebrow, a hint of suspicion crossing her features. Her gaze flickered between you and Cassian, and a look of realization slowly went through her face. She turned towards you with a slight gasp, smacking your bicep playfully.
"Y/n! Did you two…?"
You turned your head fast to look at her at a speed so fast that you swore you gave yourself whiplash. You looked at her with narrow eyes. “Did we what?”
Mor's grin widened as she leaned in conspiratorially. "Did you and Cassian have a little training of your own, off the sparring mat?" She teased with a wink.
You scoffed, waving her off with a gesture of your hand. You could feel a blush on your cheeks and you prayed that Mor didn’t notice— or if she did, that she attributed it to the sweltering heat.
"No, Mor! We didn't.” You responded, then you made a face of disgust. “We’re talking about Cassian. I could never.”
Mor raised an eyebrow playfully. "Are you sure about that? Because, darling, you've been staring at him like he's a piece of prime meat, and you're a starved vegetarian about to crumble."
Your cheeks burned brighter.
“Such a beautiful image, Mor, thank you for that,” You murmured, rolling your eyes before looking at her. “But that is not what I was doing. I was just… watching his technique. That's all."
Mor's laughter rang through the air as she nudged you. "Sureeee. Whatever you say. But you might want to consider admitting it to yourself before the starved vegetarian inside you takes over completely."
Flustered and unsure of how to respond, you excused yourself with a mumbled, "I don't know what you're talking about," before hastily leaving the training arena, leaving Mor's laughter echoing behind you as she followed.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
You and Cass hadn’t had time together within the past week and a half. You were busy running off with Mor and Feyre, and when you weren’t with them, Amren took your attention. Cassian himself had been busy, too, but he couldn’t focus recently, not as well as usual. The last time he’d been able to properly see you, as you observed him and Azriel training, you left before he had a chance to talk to you. You hadn’t felt Cassian's eyes follow you as you left, didn’t notice the way he traced your figure. His gaze had stayed trained on you until you were out of his line of sight, and only then had he felt the presence of Az behind him. But he was too slow, and the Shadowsinger quickly disarmed him, flipping him onto his back with a loud thud.
Cassian had let out a groan followed by a string of obscenities aimed at his brother, who quickly made a comment about him being too distracted. Azriel was right. He was too distracted. His mind was completely and utterly obsessed with you.
In fact, Cassian felt like a mad man. There was a deep ache that had settled in his chest, one that weaved itself through his ribs. He’d never felt so starved, so hungry. But his delusions, the dreams he’d been having, the fantasies that manifested in his brain, they weren’t sweet enough to satiate his hunger anymore. What he wanted was you. And he couldn’t stop picturing it, couldn't stop indulging in his thoughts. Not since that night at Rita’s.
He’d fallen asleep with you after he’d helped you get into bed, closed his eyes after you thanked him. It was the best sleep he’d gotten in months, made even better when he woke up perfectly rested, rolling over in your comfortable bed to see you. He won’t admit how long he was staring at you, at your sleeping form, your hair fanned out across your pillow. Even with your makeup slightly smeared– a fact that made him feel guilty that he had forgotten to help you wash it off– you were breathtaking. He wondered why he never really noticed it this much before.
Cassian tried his best tonight, laying in his bed after the long day. Restless, he tossed and turned. At one point he considered getting ready and flying somewhere, going to train and practice, or finding some beautiful female to replace the thoughts he had of you. Both options sounded nauseating. So, instead, he pulled himself out of bed and slowly walked around, letting out a yawn and rubbing at his eyes. The hallways were quiet, illuminated by the moon in the night sky.
When he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks, his heart quickly jumping. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the low lighting, and then readily took in the sight in front of him.
There you were, a vision of beauty, leaning gracefully into the fridge. The top part of your body concealed by the door, leaving Cassian with a tantalizing view of your legs. The silk set you wore clung to you in all the right places, the fabric catching the subtle glow of flickering faelight, accentuating the curves that commanded his attention.
Fuck. He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or a nightmare for him in his current state.
As he stood there, silently observing, you straightened up. Your hands, adorned with an elegant grace, held onto something within the fridge as you turned to close it. You turned your head slightly and your eyes met his. A wave of warmth washed over Cassian.
"Cass?" Your voice was quiet, the surprise in your eyes quickly replaced by recognition. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You stood tall, a small plate of mixed berries in your hand. He wasn’t surprised, though, you always had such strange midnight cravings. Still slack-jawed and captivated, Cassian tried to find the words to break the silence. He watched as your face softened and your brows pulled together. “Cant sleep?” You asked.
He blinked. And then shook his head. “Nope.” He finally replied.
You smiled, a warm and inviting expression that made Cassian's heart skip a beat, and made a motion with your head to call him closer to you. You pulled yourself onto the counter, swinging your feet as they hung. Cassian settled next to you, leaning against the counter. The cold slight touch of the cold surface on his bare back sent a chill through his body. His wings nestled comfortably behind him.
Cassian watched you as you hummed quietly, bringing the berries to your mouth. He watched the way your lips wrapped around them, the way your throat moved as you swallowed. His thoughts went straight to his cock, feeling a stirring that had him fighting to maintain his composure.
Get it together. His mind echoed. He sorted through his thoughts, then he looked up at you. “I’ve missed you this week.” He confessed.
You paused, bringing a strawberry away from your lips. Turning to look at him, you gave him a dimpled smile. "Well, you didn’t have to wait until the dead of the night to find me,” You responded. “I’ve missed you, too.”
Cassian mirrored your smile and then let out a deep breath. Despite fighting back his intrusive thoughts about you not even minutes ago, his heart was steady and calm. He could feel a sense of relief wash through his body as he stood next to you, watching you eat. The silence was comfortable— your presence was comfortable. Something warm, something familiar, something that felt like home.
“Want one?” You offered, holding your plate towards him. He glanced at you, then at the plate, and then at you again. His eyebrow raised.
“C’monnnn,” You said, your voice light and amused, “Every healthy male needs to eat his fruits and vegetables.”
Cassian let out a chuckle. “At three in the morning?”
You shrugged casually. “I don’t think the time matters.” You popped a blueberry in your mouth, looking at him. Then you picked one up from the plate, reaching your hand out to his face, the fruit hovering in front of his lips. “They’re nice and fresh and cold.”
He couldn’t say no to you. Not when you were looking at him like that.
With a reluctant smile, Cassian moved to take it from your outstretched hand, but you intervened, a softness in your eyes. "Allow me," you said. He responded with a subtle nod. Holding the berry delicately between your fingers, you brought it to his mouth. For a second, your finger brushed against his lips, a small fleeting touch, the ghost of a sensation. An unexpected surge of electricity coursed through him, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake as it moved throughout his body.
His gaze locked onto yours, your attentive eyes and your mouth slightly parted. Like many other things, you’d done this before, had given Cassian food straight to his mouth. But in the stillness of the night, with the glow on your soft skin and your silk set, Cass struggled to breathe.
A slight grin played on your lips as Cassian, still entranced, tasted the berry you had fed him. He chewed slowly, deliberately, and then swallowed. "See?" you said in a soft, teasing tone, “And it probably tasted better with me feeding you it like some God. You’re welcome.”
Cassian, still under the spell of your touch, let out a small breath. "You're always right, aren't you?"
You met his gaze, a quiet confidence in your eyes. "It's part of my charm," you replied, the words carrying a hint of playfulness. He watched as you returned your attention to your plate, finishing the last of the berries that adorned it. You looked over at him. "It's getting late," you said, dropping down from the counter. "I should probably get some sleep."
As you stood up and stretched, Cassian's eyes followed the movement, taking in the curve of your ass as you arched your back. Your silk set rode up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your stomach. He felt a surge of desire that made him both embarrassed and excited, like he was a 16 year old again, ready to fuck anything near him. Cassian allowed his eyes to wander back up, taking in the sight of your chest, the way the silk set clung to your breasts, the subtle rise and fall of your breaths. He felt his mouth water.
You rolled your shoulders, turning to look at him with a subtle furrow in your brow.
“You okay?”
Cassian cleared his throat, shaking off his thoughts. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that there was a blush rising to his cheeks, a heat he was suddenly aware of on his face.
“Yeah,” He responded, his voice huskier than intended, “Just tired.”
You shot Cassian a mildly unconvinced look with a subtle raise of your eyebrows, but gave him a half-smile, anyways. “Get some rest, Cass,” You said softly, “See you tomorrow.”
Cassian stayed still, eerily still, as he watched you walk away, watched your legs move and the way the fabric of your clothes rippled as you walked. When you were out of eyesight, he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Then he titled his head and let out a groan at the ceiling. He took a minute to compose himself, to attempt to regulate the blood in his body– blood that was moving straight to the heat collecting like a pool in his chest. Rubbing his hands along his face, Cassian slowly headed for his room. The quiet of the night that once soothed him now felt like a void, one that yearned for your voice again, for you.
By the time he made it to his room, Cassian’s mind was filled with images of you– of the silk material sliding across your skin, of the way your lips wrapped around the berries, of him bending you over the counter. Gods. Feeling the strain of his desire, Cassian reached down and started to stroke himself through his pants, the loose and thin material of his sweatpants doing little to buffer the friction from his palms. He felt a deep groan leave his mouth at the image of you in front of him, kneeling with your eyes wide and hungry, your lips parted, ready for him.
He slid his hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of his cock. He pulled his pants and briefs down his legs, letting his throbbing length fall against his stomach as wrapped his hands around himself. Cassian worked himself in smooth strokes, swallowing every time his thumb grazed the head of his cock. He let his mouth fall open as he imagined you, imagined your body moving beneath him, your eyes locked on him as he took you.
Closing his eyes, Cassian thought of the sound of your moans, fantasizing about how your breath would quicken, how your body would tremble with pleasure as he satisfied your desires. His hand moved faster, his grip tightening as the images in his mind grew more detailed— every sound you’ve emitted to him before, every laugh, every grunt as you trained, every soft sigh, all began to morph together into one beautiful melody. You’re moaning underneath him, desperate, all-consuming, so hungry for him that you’re forced to stifle your whimpers with the back of your hand.
Cassian felt the tension coiling in his body, the tightness in his balls, and the warmth spreading through his body. He imagined you writhing underneath him, your hips chasing his every thrust, your body arching beneath him, eyes filled with pleasure as he filled you with his seed. His orgasm hits him fast, his body trembling with the force of his release as he painted his stomach with the evidence of his desire.
Even after he’d cleaned himself off, after he’d submerged himself in a cold bath, Cassian’s mind still lingered on you, on your silk set, on your lips— on your laugh. And as he tossed and turned in bed once more, Cass realized he was completely fucked.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
"What's got you so flustered?" Mor asked, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.
Mor knew exactly why you were so flustered. Her, Amren, and Feyre had guessed it from the beginning— the subtle touching and lingering gazes. You liked Cassian, like-liked Cassian. And until now, you had refused to admit it.
As you remembered the moment with Cassian a mere three nights ago, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You ran your hands down your face and let out a groan. Feyre and Mor exchanged amused glances.
“He walked in shirtless!” You exclaimed, your voice still slightly covered by your hands running down your face. “Gods, I didn’t know what to do. I just kept shoving berries in my mouth. And then I kept trying to find a reason to touch him but I couldn’t.”
Feyre, who sat next to you with her legs to the side, comfortably nestled into the crook of the couch, leaned forward, looking at you with expectant eyes. “So what did you do?” She asked.
You shifted in your seat, avoiding eye contact by focusing on a loose thread on the couch. "I gave him a berry." Your voice was quiet. You spared Feyre a glance under your brow. When you saw her face crinkle in amusement, you quickly looked away, nervously twirling the thread between your fingers. It snapped quickly.
From in front of you, Mor stared, her brows furrowed and mouth slightly parted. “You gave him… a berry?” She leaned back, a look of intrigue on her face.
You nodded slowly, aware of how lame it sounded. “Yes. I fed him a berry.” You said, looking up at her.
"And?" Feyre asked.
You pursed your lips and glanced at her, and then bounced your vision around the room. There was a deep sense of embarrassment that bubbled in your stomach, a feeling that made you want to hide away. You were flustered, more than you had ever been, and it was due to your best friend shirtless in the kitchen. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush— and it was humiliating. But looking at both of your friends, so eagerly sitting, you let out a breath and word-vomited them the truth.
“And I’ve never been so aroused by someone's lips and the faint feeling of stubble! Gods, what do I do?” You lifted your hands up in exasperation, finding yourself sinking further into the couch. Crossing your arms, you huffed in frustration. Your cheeks flushed, and you could feel the heat radiating from them.
“I know what to do.” Mor said, matter-of-factly. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You do?" Your hands dropped to your lap and you leaned forward.
"Yes. You need to get laid." Mor's tone was casual.
Your eyes widened. "W-What?" Your jaw dropped.
Mor only nodded her head affirmatively, jutting her chin out towards Feyre next to you. “She agrees.”
You shot a look to Feyre, who stared at you with wide eyes. She gave you a sheepish smile. “I mean…” She trailed off, looking towards Mor for help. You followed her gaze and turned your head to the blonde once more.
"We’re going to Ritas," Mor declared. She stood up, a confident sway to her hips as she moved towards the door.
"But we went last week," You protested. Mor stopped in her place and turned around to look at you with feigned innocence.
"Oh, I’m sorry,” She said, bringing her delicate hand to her chest, “I didn’t realize it was illegal to go out two weekends in a row."
You tilted your head and threw her an unamused look, but Mor only grinned at you. When you let out a defeated sigh and shook your head, she knew she had won and looked towards Feyre.
“Amren will come, too. It’ll be a girls night. Right, Fey?”
Feyre smiled and turned to look at you, meeting your gaze. “Right.” She affirmed. She leaned forward, placing a soft hand on your bicep. “It’ll be fun.”
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
When the day began winding down, Mor returned from her apartment, arms heavy with dresses. She strolled into your room, Amren in tow, with the same grin from earlier. Looking towards where you and Feyre sat on your couch, she let out an excited squeal. “Tonight is going to be great.”
You glanced at Amren, who merely gave you a small quirk of her lips before planting herself down on the seat opposite of you, watching as Mor dumped her pile of clothes on your bed.
You casted a glance at the pile of dresses, each with their own gorgeous vibrant color and delicate fabrics. You looked over at Mor. “Couldn’t decide on what to wear?” You mused. You pulled yourself up and walked towards her, examining the dresses on your bed. You brought the fabric of one between your fingers, feeling the delicate silk.
Mor let out a laugh, bringing her hand to your arm. She looked at you with an amused glance. “Oh babe, these aren’t for me.”
You frowned at her, and then your face fell. “Oh, these are for me?”
She nodded excitedly. Looking behind you towards Amren and Feyre. “Tell her how beautiful these would look on her.”
You didn’t look back, instead running your hands across the pile of elegant dresses. It wasn’t that you didn’t love them. Each dress was gorgeous in its own right, and if they belonged to Mor, you knew that they would look even better on– sexy, even. But you frowned slightly at the idea of dressing up to go to Rita’s with the goal of getting noticed. Unlike times before, it didn’t seem appealing. But perhaps you were overthinking. After all, the past two weeks had left you in your head too much.
Feyre craned her head slightly, watching as you stared at the dresses. “They are beautiful, Y/n.”
You let out a small sigh. This was good for you. Mor was right, you needed to get laid. You hadn’t fucked in a while. With all the tension and stress you’d been feeling, the worries about Koschei and impending doom, it made sense that your desires would manifest in someone familiar like Cassian, right? You nodded to yourself at the thought and then smiled. “Tell me which to try on first.”
You eyed the first dress Mor handed you. It was a stunning creation, soft and open, with a low neckline that hinted at just the right amount of allure. The fabric shimmered in the faelight of your room. As you slipped it on, the dress clung to your figure, accentuating curves you didn't always pay attention to. But it didn’t feel right. The straps felt a bit too loose, and as you turned to check yourself in the mirror, you realized the openness that had seemed so alluring was now making you uneasy.
Amren’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
You nodded in agreement, tugging at the neckline. "Yeah, I think I’ll pass."
Feyre chimed in with a supportive smile. "Let's try the next one. Maybe it'll capture the right feeling. Yeah?” She turned her head to the side, motioning towards some dresses that Mor stood over as she sorted through them. Each dress was a different variation of red, Mor’s beautiful statement color and one that screamed confidence and grace. Surely Mor owned more than red, you thought. Why had she decided that you both were going to adorn her signature color tonight? You didn’t think too long about it, your gaze fixed on yourself in the mirror.
After a few more desperate tries, and Amren’s decreasing confidence in Mor’s styling abilities, the blonde reached into the pile of dresses and pulled out a final dress that had you releasing a small gasp. The fabric was a deep, rich ruby red that seemed to absorb the light around it. As you slipped into the dress, the material clung to your curves, accentuating your silhouette. The neckline dipped low, revealing just enough to be tantalizing without feeling excessive, and you appreciated how naturally your breasts fell underneath it. The open back was a work of art, adorned with delicate jewels that cascaded down like a waterfall, drawing attention to the graceful curve of your spine.
You took a moment before looking at your friends. However, it was Amren specifically that you turned to for a decision, meeting her gaze. She let her eyes run down your figure before looking at you. The corners of her mouth tilted upwards as she gave you a small nod. “This is the one, girl.”
Feyre and Mor watched as you turned to examine yourself in the mirror. The dress opened at the hips, showcasing your thighs and legs. The overall effect was breathtaking, a harmonious blend of elegance and desire. Mor's eyes lit up with satisfaction. "Gods, you look so sexy."
You met Mor’s gaze in the mirror. “No ones going to be able to take their eyes off you,” She gushed, “You’ll have your fair pick of females and males.” You let your mind drift off as Mor continued to babble, feeling Feyre’s hands running through your hair as she twirled the strands between her fingers, deciding how she wanted to help you style it. You took in your appearance in the mirror, eyes roaming over the dress once more, over how well it accentuated your body. It wasn’t until your gaze was drifting up that you noticed the figure in the doorway, your heart stopping.
With a smirk playing on her lips, Amren’s voice rang out. "Hello, Cassian."
You, Feyre, and Mor turned in unison to the doorway, where Cassian stood wide-eyed and still. He paled slightly and swallowed. You felt a flush creep up your neck, your hand flying to your collarbone in an anxious movement. Despite the confidence the perfect dress had given you moments ago, the presence of Cassian in the doorway had thrown you off balance. His eyes roamed your body, tracing where the dress fell at your feet up to its neckline, and all the skin it revealed. His wings twitched behind him, falling slightly. You rubbed at the spot that your hand lay at.
Cassian, still caught off guard, stammered slightly. "I... uh, was just coming to see if you wanted to hang out." You felt your face soften, giving him a smile. Before you could respond, Mor waved him off dismissively.
"Oh, sorry. She’s busy," she said with a tight smile. You casted a quick glance at her before giving your best friend an apologetic one. His gaze lingered on you, running up your figure once more– the heat in his gaze felt like it was lighting you on fire, and you bit the inside of your cheek.
"I can see that.” He said. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, what's going on?" His eyes darted between the dresses thrown across your bed and to the girls surrounding you, each wearing beautiful, elegant gowns of their own. He didn’t miss the way Amren looked at him in amusement, or how her gaze trailed to you as she did so.
Feyre looked between you two before answering. “It's girls night," she explained, “We’re going to Ritas.”
Mor, however, turned around with a large grin. "Y/n is getting laid tonight!" she announced with unabashed enthusiasm.
Cassian's eyes widened, and he blinked rapidly as if trying to process the information. A sizzling sense of jealousy formed in his chest and he breathed out from his nose. The room fell silent for a moment before he finally managed to sputter out “I thought you were over casual flings?”
You bashfully stuttered, feeling a touch of awkwardness in the tense atmosphere, a small lump in the back of your throat, "Oh, well..." Your eyes searched for the right words, and you caught Mor's gaze, her curious stare making you feel a bit more exposed than you'd anticipated. "I don't know. We'll see." You shrugged slightly, giving him a close-mouthed smile.
Feyre and Amren exchanged glances, their eyes bouncing between you and Cassian. You didn’t catch it. Mor wanted to laugh, but instead she pressed her lips together and circled you, taking in the image of you in the dress. "I bet she'll have to fight off people tonight," she mused, casting a sly look in Cassian's direction. "Wouldn't you agree, Cassian?" Feyre’s head swung over to Mor and she gave her a tight look, her eyes widening slightly. Unaffected, the blonde looked back at her with an innocent face. What? She mouthed.
Cass was staring at you, unmoving and chest rising rapidly. You took in his casual wear, how his hair hung loosely, some strands in front of his face. He was looking at you with an intensity in gaze that you’d never felt before, a heat that made you feel like you were on fire. You swallowed, and then bit your lip, watching as his eyes took in those movements too. Having not fully registered Mor's question, he stammered again, "I—uh, what?"
Mor's grin widened, and she feigned innocence. "Oh, nothing. I'm just saying that she looks so beautiful. Tell her how beautiful she looks."
Cassian casted a quick glance at Morrigan, but quickly his eyes settled back to the place they were at before– your face, your body, you. You blushed at Mor's pointed comment. His eyes ran down your figure once more, seeming to trace the lines of the dress. You continued to rub nervously at your collarbone, the heightened attention making you slightly self-conscious.
Cassian, finally finding his words, cleared his throat. "You do look... incredible," he admitted, his eyes still fixed on you. You wondered if your friends were suddenly feeling smothered too, if something in the air was making it hard for them to breathe. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. You resisted the urge to gulp down another nervous breath. Mor let out a small sound of agreement before she looked over at the illyrian male.
"Okay, thats enough gawking, Cassian. We all know Y/n is hot. Now leave us be. Go find Az or Rhys or something," she declared. Your eyes widened slightly, and Cassian shook his head, his mouth slightly parting. Caught between embarrassment and amusement, he took Mor's words in stride. “Right.” He responded with a smile.
He turned around to leave, but before fully retreating, he stole one last glance in your direction. You noticed the subtle, lingering look on his face—an admiring gaze, accompanied by a fleeting lick of his lips. There was a certain longing in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed. Then, you watched as a different expression overcame his features. He walked out before you had a chance to examine it further.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
You let out a small laugh as Mor continued to compliment you, talking over her shoulder as you, Feyre, and Amren followed her, approaching the main foyer. Your laughter died as Mor stopped in her tracks and frowned slightly.
"What are you guys doing?" She asked, a mix of surprise and annoyance in her voice. As you caught up to where she stood, you were greeted with the unexpected sight of Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand standing in front of the door, seemingly waiting for you. Dressed in impeccably tailored suits, each of them exuded a distinctive charm. The realization hit you—the look on Cassian’s face as he departed from your room earlier, the sense of determination, the lingering cue of playfulness. He had gone and convinced them both to join.
You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail in how they looked, and Cassian, in particular, stood out. His wings, a symbol of his power and grace that you adored, were confidently spread, and his slicked-back hair added a touch of elegance to his rugged charm. He not only looked good, he looked absolutely delicious. You didn’t attempt to hide the look on your face as you took him in.
Finally ripping your eyes from your best friend, you looked behind him, to where Azriel sat, his face donning its usual cool expression, but you could sense it- the hint of annoyance that laid underneath it. Meanwhile, next to him, Rhysand sported a large, confident grin. A grin that Cassian mirrored, but with a touch less confidence, his eyes flickering between you and the others. Amren, observing the situation with her usual detached demeanor, glanced at Rhysand and deadpanned, "You're coming with us."
Rhysand's grin widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Girls' night, right?" He threw his mate a wink. You heard her stifle some laughter.
Cassian, scratching the back of his head, added with a sheepish smile, "Figured we'd join the fun. Tonight’s been a bit boring." He gestured around him. Then his gaze fell on you. For what felt like the millionth time tonight, his eyes raked over you and you blinked, catching his gaze when it fell on your face. “You don’t mind, do you?”
You didn’t mind. Not one bit, you thought. If he kept looking at you like that, with those eyes and that heated gaze, you wouldn’t mind a thing he did. He could ask you for anything right now, and you’d say yes. Yes, yes, just keep staring at me like that. Like you see me, like you want me.
Mor scoffed, "Yes, we do mind!" She turned to you, looking for support. "Tell them it's a girls night."
All eyes turned to you, and you felt a flutter of uncertainty. There was Cassian, his eyes locked onto yours, examining you, your every feature, your every move. The heat of his eyes had started to pooled down at your thighs. You clenched everything below your waist as you hesitated for a moment, still caught in the intensity of his gaze. Mor's impatience grew, and she raised an expectant eyebrow. "Well?"
You lingered on Cassian, and despite Mor's expectant face, you found yourself saying, "No, I don't mind."
Mor's expression shifted from annoyance to resignation, and she let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine."
Cassian's face brightened with a grin, "I promise, Mor, it'll be so fun." His attention turned towards you, walking to you with a soft, but charming grin. "Allow me." He extended his elbow, and without hesitation, you interlocked your hand with his. The touch was comforting and warm, and his scent enveloped you as he guided you towards the exit. You closed your eyes with a content sigh.
The fragrance that clung to him was intoxicating. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite him tonight, to let him join you and the girls. The dress you were wearing gave you an inflated sense of confidence that you hadn’t felt for a while, and as you walked alongside Cassian, you wondered if it would truly be so bad to indulge in your thoughts of him. To think of his hands, the some ones with you right now, and how they would trace your body the way his eyes had this evening. You felt your arousal bubbling up at the thought of it. It was all in innocent fun, right? You could think of him, enjoy this touch, fantasize about him, as long as that's all it was— thoughts in your mind, away from reality, an idea that you never let come to fruition.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
You had to admit, Mor was right. Rita’s was definitely the move tonight. Somehow it was even more lively than last week, bustling with people and energy. You weren’t as intoxicated as last time, not anywhere near it, but you felt drunk all the same. And you weren’t ashamed to admit, now, that your drunken haze was all caused by one thing: your extremely attractive best friend.
You and Cass had lost the rest of your group a while back, pulled into a drink off with a beautiful fae couple. Cassian and you had won every single round, leaving you standing at the bar now, celebrating with another round of shots.
Cassian was standing next to you as you both faced the bar, your arms touching, practically on top of one another. Cass craned his head to look at the crowd behind you, his hand wrapping around your waist as people drunkenly stumbled past you, making their way to the bar. On usual nights, Cassian’s hand would have dropped by now, returned to their position at his side, but not tonight. Instead, he kept his hand across your waist, keeping a heavy hold on you. You could feel the heat from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you felt it as it moved straight to your core. You instinctively rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to ignore it, suddenly feeling grateful for the multitude of smells in Rita’s that covered your arousal. You turned your head to the side to look at Cassian, noticing that his gaze was on you, but not on your face. Instead, it seemed as if he was looking to where his hand rested on your hip.
“What?” You asked, your brows furrowing, leaning closer to him. He tilted his head slightly, and then you felt his hand lift. You felt a small tinge of disappointment, but it quickly dissipated when you felt his light touch hovering over your back, tracing where the delicate jewels of your dress cascaded down your spine like a waterfall. Your body shuddered. You watched him as his gaze deepended, as he took his lip between his teeth. His hands traced the ornate jewelry, landing at the base of your spine, where the fabric of your dress gathered.
“I like this,” Cassian said, his voice low. His eyes flickered to yours, “Beautiful.”
Your chest fluttered at his words— was he complimenting the dress, or you? You couldn’t ask even if you wanted to, the air sucked out of your lungs with every lingering touch of his. Your mouth parted slightly as he stared at you, as you ran your eyes along his face. You felt the brush of his fingers on your spine now. He wasn’t tracing the jewelry anymore, no, he was touching you.
“Here you go,” A sudden voice pulled you out of the moment. Both you and Cassian turned your heads to the bartender placing two small shot glasses in front of you. You had forgotten you’d ordered another round, forgotten why you were at the bar in the first place, with your best friends hands over you. “I apologize for the wait.” The bartender said.
You spared him a quick glance, a small graceful smile on your lips, “No worries,” you said. But then you looked at him once more, recognizing the smile he wore, the sound of his voice. This was the bartender Cassian was talking about. And from the way he looked at you, how he pushed your glass to your hand, lightly grazed your fingers, you knew Cass was right about his interest in you.
“Thanks,” Cassian said, his voice rough. He grabbed both of the glasses in his hand, dragging them closer to your chests, his eyes trained on the bartender, whose smile faltered as he looked at your best friend. Cassian’s hand, which had fallen from your back at the interruption, found your hips again. “That’ll be it.” You didn’t need to look at the bartender to know that he shrunk away, intimated. You didn’t need to look because all you wanted to stare at was Cassian. Cassian, Cassian, Cassian. Something about his grip on you, on the way he’d pushed the bartender away, the way he’d touched your spine, all of it had you pooling at your core.
“Here,” Cass said, pushing your glass towards you with his knuckle. He grabbed his in his hand. The other hand was still at your hip, unmoving— except for the occasional circular rub of his thumb. You tenderly took the shot, angling your body to twist slightly so you could better face him. The hand on you moved appropriately, still staying placed on your hip as you maneuvered.
“Cheers.” You said, looking at him. You licked your lips as you held the shot up. Cassian met yours, the two glasses making a clink as they touched. “Cheers.” He responded.
Tilting your head back, you welcomed the shot openly, letting the liquid coat your throat, feeling the warmth as it moved down. When you were done, you were met with Cassian’s gaze once more, watching you. His gaze followed the column of your throat as you swallowed. His hand moved to your face, his thumb wiping away a stray drop of whiskey on your chin. The touch itself sent a frenzy through your body, and you let out a small, quiet gasp.
“Y/n.” He murmured.
“Yes?”
Your voice was barely above a whisper, your body still. He was closer to you now than a few moments ago, and it took everything in your power not to pull him even closer, to brush against him.
“You can’t look at me like that.” Cassian finally replied.
Your heart leaped, and you took a sharp intake of breath. How were you looking at him, you wondered? Mor’s words echoed in your mind: like he was a piece of meat and you were a starving vegetarian? She was right. Oh, so right. You wanted to taste him, to devour him, to have him ravish you in return. You swallowed and then whispered in response.
“Like what?”
Cassian said nothing. He scanned your face and then his hand was moving again, brushing a stray strand of your hair from your face. When the hair still fell out of place, he gingerly grabbed it and tucked it behind your ear. You felt his finger trace the shell of your ear, falling as it reached your lobe, now on your cheek. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch, pressing closer to him. His grasp at your hip tightened, and you felt as it moved up, his hands now grabbing the skin at your waist.
When you opened your eyes, your gaze met his instantly. He was breathing heavily, his eyes filled with desire. "We should probably find our friends," he whispered, his voice hoarse. You nodded absentmindedly, feeling your chest tighten. Cassian’s palm slightly lifted from your cheek, the ghost of his touch lightly moving. His thumb found your lips, tugging at them slightly, you let your mouth fall open with the touch. He nearly let out a moan at the sight.
“Or,” You whispered back, “We could go home.”
He nodded, the pad of his thumb still rubbing at your lip. “We could.”
You lifted your hand to grab his wrist softly, pulling it lower, to your chest. You felt the heat of his palm as it landed on your chest. “Cassian.” His cock pressed angrily against his zipper at the sound of his name falling from your lips so sensually, so softly. His hand trailed higher, and then he was wrapping it around your neck, his thumb running along your throat. You savored the touch and bit your lip, looking at him through your lashes. The look was all he needed, any self-constraint quickly disappearing.
“Let's go home.” He said, his thumb running alongside your lips once more. Then, he was spinning you both around, interlacing your fingers as he pulled you through the crowd.
As Cassian led you out, you looked back, squinting at the mass of people. Your gaze landed on Feyre, who was already looking at you. You watched as she glanced between you and Cassian, and then she gave you a small smile, her brows slightly furrowed. Be careful. Her voice echoed in your brain, soft and gentle. You weren't sure what she was referring to, if she was talking about your trip home or the way you were entangled with your best friend. Either way it didn’t matter. You weren’t being careful, not now. You didn’t want to be.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
You weren’t quite sure what to do. You’d never been in this position with someone you loved so dearly— never been in the situation where you were about to fuck your best friend.
The way home was a blur, the cold air as you both left Rita’s in a hurry, how Cass had wrapped his arms around you, how they had wandered and explored, but nowhere too vulnerable— not yet. You had made it a few minutes before you decided to winnow back, your ability fully functioning and, at the moment, incredibly convenient. Back at the house, you both had stared at each other, breathing hard, heavy-lidded eyes with lust. You could smell it on him. You didn’t doubt that you reeked of your own arousal. But Cass has stepped away from you, for a brief moment, biting his lips as his hands curled at his sides. Whatever you want, sweetheart, is what he had said. He wanted to give you an out, a chance to change your mind, to decide that this wasn’t a line you wanted to, or were ready to, cross. The realization hit you sweetly, and it only added to your arousal, the fact that he was so aware of you.
You had looked at him, a small nod of your head towards the hallways, towards the corridors that led to your rooms. You hadn’t said anything, a heavy silence followed you, filled with longing and desperation, a hint of anxiety. You had waited, let Cassian take the next move. If he followed, you both knew what would happen. You had given him an out, too.
You worried when some time had passed and you were still alone in your bedroom. You walked towards your mirror, taking in your appearance, the dress on you, the evident arousal on your face, in your stature. Then you heard him. His walking. You closed your eyes, hearing his heavy footsteps enter your room. You heard your door shut, and the footsteps grew louder until you felt him behind you, the warmth of his body enveloping you completely. You let out a small breath.
“Cass,” You whispered, your eyes opening and meeting his in the mirror.
His hands found your hips, and he pulled you back into him. You felt his hard length against you, pressing against your exposed back, the heat of it alone causing you to let out a small, shaky breath. You leaned back into him, rubbing against him as his fingers tightened around you. Craning your head to the side, Cassian took advantage of your exposed neck, running his nose along it, inhaling your scent. He nudged the sweet spot behind your ears, your knees almost giving out as his lips trailed the shell of your ear, feeling his hot breath against your skin.
His voice, rough as gravel, sent a wave through you of something you couldn’t name, but it was heavy, hot, and made you so incredibly horny. “Sweetheart, are you…” He trailed off.
Sure? Sober? You had a feeling that sober is what his question seemed to probe at. You nodded, nodded frantically. Every shot you had taken tonight had no effect on your body, not anymore. You’d felt the last lingering effects of your final shot as you both came home, feeling as it slipped out of your system. And if he was asking if you were sure, that answer was yes, too. You were boldly, acutely, and fully aware of the moment, of each sensation in your body— fully aware of the ache in your legs, of how good Cassian smelled. “Yes, yes.” You whispered.
“Thank god,” He groaned– a guttural, animalistic sound.
Before you could blink, Cassian was spinning you around. You let out a gasp, your view quickly taken up by the image of his face hovering over yours. He held your face in both of his hands, his thumbs swiping across your cheeks. His eyes scanned you in desperation, as if he was searching for something within the details of your features. Whatever he was looking for he seemed to find as he brought his lips to yours, giving in entirely with a soft moan of relief. His arms moved to wrap around your waist, and you moaned into him, flinging your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He kissed you harder.
“You sure?” Cassian whispered, floating the question again. He slid his warm palm up and over your hips, to your waist, your ribs, and back down again. You let out a sigh at his touch, running your palms up to pull the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Yes,” You said as he feathered kisses along your neck. “Are you?”
You felt Cassian nod against you, a small breathless laugh left his lips as he came up for another kiss. “Fuck yes. I’ve been dreaming about this.” And then he placed another kiss on your lips, deep and sensual. Hunger radiated off him like a starved man. His words turned you to jelly and you swore you could feel your wetness running down your thighs.
“This dress,” he breathed against your lips, “I wanted to rip it off you the minute I saw it.”
Before you can react, he reached out and gripped the fabric of your dress, yanking it downward with a force that left your heart racing. You gasped as the material was torn from your body, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear. You watched in awe as he threw the torn fabric aside, a small sound emitting as the jewels made contact with the hard floor. The cold air immediately took the place of the warmth of your clothing, making you shiver with pleasure.
“That was Mor’s!” You managed to breathe out, looking at the discarded pile of fabric. Your words died in your throat the minute you caught Cassian’s gaze again. There was a predatory look in his eyes as he took you in, and you remembered now that you were completely naked now, save for a lacy pair of panties. Your nipples perked, hard and ready, in the cold air. Cassian, his gaze unmoving, simply grumbled back, “I’ll buy her a new one.”
Cassian's eyes roamed over your naked body, his gaze heated as he took in the sight of you, completely at his mercy. His hands reached out, his fingers tracing a path down your arms, making you shake with anticipation. His hands moved to your hips, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer. "You have no idea how beautiful you are," He said, "How much I've wanted this." You felt his erection, hard and ready, pressing against your stomach.
His lips found yours, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he kissed you with all the passion he'd been holding back. You felt the desire radiating from him, making you feel wanted and desired in a way that nothing else ever had. As he broke the kiss, his eyes locked on yours, filled with pure, unfiltered lust. "I'm going to make you come," he growled, his voice low and rough. "And when I do, you'll never forget the way I made you feel."
With that, he plunged his tongue back into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer as you stand there, naked and vulnerable, your cunt throbbing with every word, every touch. Your hands gripped his hair, your fingers tangling in the strands as you pulled him closer, your bodies pressed together in a frenzy of passion.
Cassian broke away from you for a moment, his breath hot and heavy against your lips. "Jump," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. Without hesitation, you lifted yourself into his arms as he pulled you into him effortlessly. He wrapped himself around you, his hands gripping at your ass, fingers digging into your skin. You felt his erection pressing against you, underneath you, with desperate need.
He took a few steps before he carefully dropped you onto your bed with a bounce. You fell onto your back, your eyes wide with desire as you looked up at him. He took you in with his eyes, every detail of your body etched in his mind, hungrily saving the image of you for later.
Cassian's movements were hurried and frenzied as he removed his own shirt, discarding it carelessly on the floor near your--Mor's-- shredded dress. As he moved, you sat up from your supine position, your legs naturally falling to either side, finding yourself yourself in a kneeling position. You looked up at Cass. The sight of you like this, vulnerable and expectant, only intensified the hunger in his eyes, and he groaned.
You reached out to him and ran your fingertips along the waistband of his black pants, watching as his stomach muscles clenched in response to your touch. Cassian caught your wrists in his hands, looking down at you hungrily, he shook his hand. “Not yet, sweetheart. Let me savor this.”
You let out a small whimper, the sound shooting straight to his dick, causing the hardening length to throb in anticipation. But when he released your hands, you kept them at his waistband, bringing your hand to palm him through the fabric of his pants.
“Please,” You whimpered, “I want to.”
And what kind of man would Cassian be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked up at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? He moaned, feeling as if he could cum at the sight of you alone. This, you, were better than any of his fantasies— and he had come up with a lot within the past two weeks.
You stared at him, at the way his muscles ripped under this golden skin, at the black tattoos curling around him, at the way his wings flared out openly, dominantly. You ached to be closer, to be able to touch the sensitive membrane. You licked your lips, taking in the curl of his biceps, the sharp dips of his hips, Gods, he was beautiful. He brought his right hand to your face, holding it tenderly before moving his hand to grab your hair at the back of your head. You took that as your invitation, leaning forward to undo his pants. With his buttons undone, you pulled the fabric down, Cassian’s hands aiding you to slide his underwear off with it.
You let out a gasp at his length, at the girth, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock. Red and hungry at the tip, leaking. You were watering at the sight. A deep sense of jealousy pooled into your stomach, images of every female he’d been with before, every female who had the pleasure of experiencing this before you. Mine. You thought. Mine. Pushing yourself closer to him, you kissed a line down his stomach.
You felt his muscles tense beneath your lips as you wrapped your fingers around him. He hissed as you rubbed your hands up his considerable length, the sound repeating when you spit on the head, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. You dragged the flat of your tongue upward, against the underside of his cock. Cassian’s reaction was instant, bucking into your grip with a breathless, raspy, moan that sent a wave of arousal down your body. You allowed your hand to follow the trail, spreading your saliva. Your mouth sunk down on him. As you hollowed your cheeks, Cassian pushed himself harder, letting out a sinful groan as you welcomed him, taking him deeper in your throat.
“Gods,” Cassian tightened his jaw as he watched his cock disappear between your swollen lips with every bob of your head. “That pretty little mouth of yours.”
You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, Cassian’s head falling backward as he moaned, his grip in your hair getting tighter. You moaned in response, the sound vibrating through him. You shifted on your thighs, rubbing them together in an attempt to relieve some of your own arousal. With a wet pop, you released him from your mouth, looking directly up at him as he stared at you with naked lust. You greedily swallowed the taste of him that coated your tongue.
“Enough. My turn.” He said, his voice halfway between growl and purr, a feral sound from deep in his chest that reverberated through your core. Cassian’s hand found your chest, after a squeeze of your breasts, his palm settled above your ribs. With a soft push, you were flat on your back again. He leaned over you and you seized the opportunity to rock against his thigh, your pussy throbbing at every touch of his, desperate for friction. But he moved quickly, leaving you grasping for touch. “Cassian.” You moaned. You pulled him back up again, desperate to have him close, slotting your lips against him.
He accepted another hungry, ravenous kiss from you before he moved down, trailing hard kisses down your jaw and across your collarbone. Your hands tugged at him, roaming over the length of his shoulders and the plane of his back, you trailed your fingers along his wings, the sensitive and soft membrane. You felt him shudder at the touch, watched as those beautiful wings twitched. You needed more.
Cassian stopped, taking a moment to bite into the soft flesh at the base of your neck. You let out a moan, throwing your hands into his hair as he sucked on the tender skin, soothing the area with a swipe of his tongue. He removed his mouth, tilting his head to make slight eye contact with you, a cocky grin placed on his lips.
“I’ll paint you in my marks, Y/n.” He whispered, moving his head down to continue his trail of kisses, “Just to have evidence that I was lucky enough to be here.”
He brought one hand between your thighs, his large calloused fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh, his perfect mouth still exploring you, tasting your skin. Your moans tumbled from your mouth, outside of your control, flowing like a river. You tightened your grasp on his hair, your fingers raking his scalp, pelvis lifting into his touch. Your legs widened further to provide him better access, knees dropping to the side.
“To feel this.” Cassian’s fingers pulled your underwear aside and ran themselves through the wetness at your core, through your sensitive folds. His finger delicately circled your clit, rubbing at it in a way that had you mewing at his touch.
You let out a gasp as one probed at your entrance, your warm core welcoming it greedily. You felt his finger curl, and then arched into him as he added another, working in and out of you. You could hear the squelch of your juices as he fingered you, could feel the way your essence dripped with each movement.
A disappointed sigh left your lips when the warmth of his hand left you. But seconds later, as you looked down at him with your hands in his hair, he pulled himself up slightly– just enough to look at you. Just enough to make eye contact as he tilted his head and stuck his slick fingers into his mouth. He lapped at the wetness coating his fingers.
“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined.” He said, moving down to drop to his knees at the edge of the bed, between your spread legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows to keep your gaze on him. He looked at you, heavy lidded, his mouth glistening with the remnants of your slick. “May I?”
Please, please. He didn’t need to ask, you thought. You wanted him everywhere, wanted him on you, in you, all over you. Whatever he wanted was what you wanted. You lazily nodded, your tongue darting out again to wet your lips.
“Words, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, placing hot and wet kissing along your thighs. His arms snaked under your thighs, hands reaching to grab your hips and pull you closer. He slowly peeled your drenched panties off your body. “I want to hear you.”
“Yes,” You finally managed to croak out. Your voice deep and needy. “Please, Cass.”
And then his tongue was on you, licking a stripe up your dripping sex. You let out a loud moan at the contact, at the feeling of his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your folds, dragging it slowly. Your hands found his hair and gripped it roughly between your fingers, your body curling around him. Cassian’s tongue dipped into your hole, darting in, again and again. Your legs trembled as stars began to cloud your vision.
“Cassian,” You choked out, feeling the building pressure in your stomach. You tried bucking your hips, but Cassian kept your thighs still, steady in a position where you couldn’t escape his wicked mouth. His tongue alternated between teasing your clit and slipping into your entrance. Your spined bowed in pleasure, and you brought one hand to your breasts, rubbing them and pinching at your nipples as Cassian ravaged you.
“You’re delicious. So fucking delicious.” Cassian crooned as he pulled apart from your cunt. He took a minute to admire the sweet image of you dripping in front of him, and then he dove back in. He let out a moan, quiet but still audible, and you noticed his other hand had removed itself from your thigh, now hidden from your view. As you looked, you saw it visibly moving, frantically, desperately. Cassian was eating you out and rubbing his own cock at it, pleasuring himself as he lapped at you. You moaned at the idea alone. The noises you made were loud, loud enough that you knew your family would hear if they were home already. But you didn’t care, you had no shame. Let them hear.
Cassian was murmuring into your core; he repeated something, the words falling from him like a prayer from a dying man. You were barely able to hear his whispers over the sound of your own blood rushing through your ears. Cassian pulled back a little then, heedless of your firm hold on his hair, watching you with his jaw set, eyes dark and greedy.
“Oh, Y/n,” he said huskily. “I could feast on this beautiful pussy forever, you know that?”
As he withdrew his mouth, he replaced its presence with his fingers instead. His thumb resumed the stimulation on your clit while his fingers moved inside your. When he slid another finger into you, your hips jumped, moving to meet his fingers faster. He curled his fingers into you as you rutted down harder. He groaned as your walls clenched when he curled his fingers, hitting a spot that had you whining his name. Your face contorted in pleasure and you let your head fall back. Cassian’s hand gripped at your thigh, calling your attention back.
“Down here,” He hummed, “Keep those pretty eyes down here.”
You brought your head back up, supporting yourself with your elbows. Cassian’s eyes stayed on yours as he lowered himself to your sex again, nustling his nose against your clit before he licked a stripe up your cunt, bringing his mouth to suck on your clit. You felt his fingers enter you again– one, then two. They brushed against you as he lapped at your clit, drawing circles with his tongue. You could barely breathe, the air leaving your lungs as Cassian filled your body with sweet, suffocating ecstasy. Your right hand found itself in his hair again, grabbing, pulling. He let out a groan at the feeling, and continued to lap at you.
You felt it everywhere, felt him everywhere. Pleasure gushed through your body, every part of your body sensitive. You writhed under him, your vision of Cassian growing blurry as you felt your pleasure build, coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode. You’re weren't sure what was up or down, forgotten where you were completely. Nothing existed except you and Cassian and the way he fucked you with his fingers and his mouth, and Gods, the thought of your reality alone made you want to cum. You grinded against his mouth, feeling as he grabbed you, pulled you closer, harder, against him, completely smothering him.
“Oh my Gods, yes, yes, yes.” The sounds you were emitting were music to his ears and Cassian continued.
The mixture of your pleasure, of Cassian’s grunts, his smells, of the way his wings twitched with each of your moans, made it even sweeter when Cassian brought another finger to your entrance. That tight, hot, built-up coil in your stomach loosened and you shriled loudly, your back bowing off the bed beneath you. Your whole body quaked as your orgasm rippled through you.
Cassian was in heaven— he was sure of it. You were a vision, your cheeks flushed, your lips parted as you moaned out in pleasure, your hard grasp in his hair. He felt every sound from your lips, every whisper of his name falling straight to his aching cock. Cassian, fuck, Cassian. You chanted them like a prayer and he swallowed them all. You were something holy, something absolutely divine and he felt himself losing it. He wanted to worship you forever, to stay buried in your cunt and die a happy man. Every man before him hadn’t appreciated you enough. He wanted to make you his, his beautiful creature, his goddess.
Cassian slowed his movements, but didn’t halter them completely as he let you work through the wave of your pleasure. Your hand had gone lax in his hair, and he took the opportunity to pepper kisses across your skin — across your legs, across your cunt, even the sweaty crook of your thigh, anywhere his lips could reach. The hand that once gripped your thighs so tightly softened. Cassian rubbed gentle circles around your skin. He waited, and only until your body stopped shaking and you let out a small content sigh between your ragged breaths did he remove his fingers from you.
He gave your core a slight smack and you let out a gasp, the action sending a spark throughout your body, leaving you aching and throbbing more than you had been seconds before. Cassian gave you a smirk.
“Holy fuck,” You breathed, looking at him with wide eyes. “Cassian…” You watched as he stood up, bringing his fingers to his mouth as he licked off your juices once more. Your gaze dropped to his chest, and then to his throbbing cock. He stroked it as he looked at you, and your core ached once more, clenching at the thought of him inside you. Cassian stared at you, lips parted, drinking the sight of you eagerly. You pushed yourself further up, scooting back enough to lie flat on the middle of your bed.
“You are a vision. A godsdamn vision,” Cassian spoke, the words falling off his tongue in a breathless confession, “Thought about this for so long.” He walked over to you.
You gulped at the admission, thinking back onto your own fantasies of him, of his hands, of his mouth. You blinked, watching as he braced his hands on the bed. “Yeah?”
Cassian nodded, bringing his hand to rub alongside your legs, tracing the curves of your body. As he crawled onto the bed, he let his hands wander with every movement. “Yeah, sweetheart.”
The nickname made your heart clench, and you felt your wetness building once again, your pussy still sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Tell me.” You whispered. He straightened himself, moving to hover over you. With one arm supporting his weight, Cassian rocked his hips against yours. He molded his other hand to your breasts, sucking in a deep, ragged breath. You arched into his touch, mewing for more. You felt your heart throb, a warmth enveloping your chest. You couldn’t breathe. All you wanted to feel was him, his hands, his skin, his touch. His touch cascaded down your body, grabbing at your thighs, pulling them closer to him.
“Rubbed myself raw at the thought of you underneath me like this.” He placed a kiss to your chest, quickly turning it into a small love bite, sucking at the skin tenderly. He released your skin with a brush of his teeth, bringing his fingers to softly touch the bruised skin. His fingers returned to your torso, teasing your nipples once more, bringing them between his fingers. He bent his head down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. You arched into him, letting out a sweet sound at the wet contact. Cass swirled his tongue around the hardened nub before gently tugging it with his teeth, causing you to let out a cry of pleasure that quickly turned into a whine when he lifted his head. He lightly blew on your nipple, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure as your nipple peaked harder, responding to the contrast of his hot mouth and the cool air. He repeated the same motions with your other breast.
You moaned as you felt him tease your entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing it against your clit and around your inner lips. You impatiently bucked your hips, trying to guide him where you wanted him, where you ached for him, but Cassian’s firm hand on your lower abdomen halted your movements.You looked up at him with frustration, frowning at the sly grin on his mouth.
“Cass, please,” You pleaded with broken whimpers. Cassian said nothing, moving his head down to kiss alongside your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth. He teased you more, and in a movement of exasperation, fueled by the swelling and throbbing of your heat, you pulled him towards you by his neck. You placed your forehead against his, looking at him through heavy eyes. “Cassian, please fuck me already.”
Cassian gave you a wolfish grin. “Since you asked so nicely,” he said, bringing you in for another kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the kiss wet with desire and something more you couldn't place. Taking a breath and pulling apart, Cassian moved his hand to grab his cock, stroking it once, twice, before lining it up with your entrance.
You let out a deep moan as he pushed into you, feeling yourself stretching around him. Your previous climax had left you sensitive, so sensitive that the first rock of Cassian’s hips left you gasping for air. Cass let out a guttural groan, leaning his forehead against yours as he bottomed out. His hair clung to his forehead. You looked up at him, at his mouth open in pleasure, and ran your hands alongside his face.
“Fuck,” His breath fanned your face. He looked at you with that deep intensity in his gaze that stirred your heart. The next thrust was just as slow, Cassian pushing in as deep as your body would allow. “You, You feel fucking incredible.”
You closed your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you. But soon, Cassian’s voice snapped again, and you felt one hand grab your face, his hand holding your jaw, his thumb rubbing at your lips. “Look at me, beautiful.” He said, letting his thumb dip into your mouth.
You spread legs spread open to the sides as he began to vigorously slam into you with no restraint, never breaking the eye contact he'd so quickly grown to love. He drank it all in: the clapping noises of flesh and your sensual screams, the sensation of your wet heat wrapped around him, the sopping sounds of your love making, and the way your nails dug into his arms as he told you how good you felt.
You rolled your hips, pushing against his merciless rhythm of thrusts. Cassian looked down at where your bodies met, at where his cock filled you, entranced by the way your hips subconsciously tilted at the intrusion, at how your hole welcomed him. With a growl, he lifted your legs over his shoulders, positioning you perfectly for his rough, relentless thrusts. Your breath caught in your throat as your watched him fuck you, your heart pounding in her chest. “Cass, Cassian.”
“Keep saying my name, baby.” The pet name fell from his lips so effortlessly, caressing you like another wave of heat. “Tell me how good it feels.”
As he continued to move inside you, your thoughts jumbled into a mess of pure pleasure. You let out a string of incoherent words, your mind drunk on the feeling of him stretching you, hitting spots you’d never experienced before. “S’Good.” You whimpered. You wrapped your arms tighter across his shoulders, reaching to touch the delicate membrane of his wings. They twitched under your fingertips, and you felt Cassian let out a moan before the sound registered in your ear. He snaked a hand where your bodies met, finding your swollen, aching clit, and began to rub circles around it. You gasped.
“I wish I could be here forever,” Cassian groaned, his lips hovering over your ears, “Stay buried inside of your cunt. Fuck you like this for the rest of my life.” You didn't know if Cassian was aware of what he was saying, aware of what it implied, but you didn't care. It all felt so good, and his words made every stroke even more pleasurable. You wanted this, you wanted this for the rest of your life– you’d never experienced something this great, never known this level of pleasure could exist.
“Please, Cass. Please.” You didn't know what you were begging for, but Cassian hushed you, peckering kisses all over you, his head fell in the crook of your shoulder, moving to bring his teeth to the sensitive skin at your neck. You moaned. “Yes, yes. Mark me. I’m yours.”
Your words seemed to hit a part of him, forcing him to pull away and stare at you with wide eyes. He stilled inside of you. "Say that again," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly.
"I'm yours," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. You brought your hands to his face, gently rubbing his cheeks. The tender, soft touch sent a shock straight to his cock, and he pulled you into a deep kiss. When you pulled apart for air, Cassian’s strokes began to pick up again, his forehead resting on yours. "Fuck me like I'm yours." You said to him, your voice filled with raw desire.
Cassian’s mind shuffled through the past two weeks, the memories of the bartender hitting on you, of the men who never satisfied you. He felt a primal possessiveness, a need to take you faster, harder, deeper. His thrusts became more aggressive, more forceful, his wings caressing you as they wrapped around both of your bodies. You cried out in pleasure, your body arching beneath him, hands gripping the sheets as you took him deep inside you.
He watched you, admired your body sprawled on the bed before him, his hands on your hips, holding you at just the right angle. His mouth salivated at your beautiful face, flushed and red, and the way your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. The noise of your fucking was obscene - the soft squeaks of your bed, the wet sounds of your bodies slapping together, the moans and curse words and harsh breathing. His grip on your hips tightened and his thrusts became more erratic.
Cassian’s movements became faster than you could process– one moment, he was thrusting into you, and the next, he was picking you up, maneuvering you so that you were sitting on his thighs, looking at him as he leaned back. You gasped at the new angle, at the feeling of sinking onto him completely. His eyes locked on yours as you straddled him and his hands guided you up and down his cock, your bodies slick with sweat and desire.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping your ass, guiding you closer to him with each thrust. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you rode him harder, faster, your body craving more. “Ride me just like that, sweetheart.” His voice rang in your head, making you dizzy. You arched forward towards him. One hand left your ass, going to grab one of your breasts, fondling with your nipple. His eyes were dark with desire, his gaze never leaving yours as he watched you take him deep inside you.
As you sank down onto him, his hips bucked up to meet you, your bodies connecting with a primal force. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you moaned softly, your eyes closing in pleasure. But Cassian didn't want you to close your eyes. He wanted you to look at him, to see the raw fire in his eyes as he took you. He reached up, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp.
"Look at me," he growled, his voice rough like gravel. The sound itself made you clench around him as he fucked you. You opened your eyes, your breath catching in your throat as you met his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with lust and possession, and you could feel your orgasm building as you looked at him. His hand tightened around your throat as he began to fuck you harder, his hips bucking up to meet you.
You felt his cock sliding deeper inside you, your pussy clenching around him, your body shaking with pleasure.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, "Look at me. Let me see you fall apart on my cock."
As you felt the intensity of your orgasm building, he pulled you down, holding you to his chest, in place, as he continued to thrust into you. You moaned, your forehead resting against his, your eyes locked on his as he continued to fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of you. "Cassian, please, please, I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice hoarse. His hands gripped your ass roughly, pulling you closer to him, sliding deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.
You felt his heart pounding beneath you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked you, his eyes never leaving yours. He stared at you as he whispered, "I've got you, baby. I've got you."
Your body trembled, your moans grew louder, and soon your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave– your body shook with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him, milking him. You gasped his name, your body convulsing over him, your sensitivity consuming you completely. You felt him tense, his cock swelling even more, and you knew that he was close as well.
His thrusts were rough and hard, each one sending waves of warmth coursing through you. Your body responded to his movements, your cunt massaging him, clenching around him, making him groan in response. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming even rougher, sloppy, and more urgent. His hips moved in a frenzy, each thrust driving him deeper into you, his cock sliding against your most sensitive spots, making you moan with pleasure. You felt his balls slapping against your ass, the sound and sensation driving you wild, your hands grasped at him, at his shoulders, at his neck, at his hair.
You felt the tension building within him, his body tensing underneath you as he neared his climax. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you in place as he drove into you. You were certain he’d leave marks in their wake, that your hips, your thighs, your body would be bruised with the evidence of his touch. It made you feral.
Cassian’s breaths were ragged as he bucked into you roughly, a string of curses falling from his lips. Finally, he let out a low, primal grunt, his face contorted with pleasure as he came, his cum spilling deep within you. You felt the warmth of his seed filling you, the sensation making you shiver with pleasure. His thrusts became slower, gentler, as he tried to catch his breath, his body still trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. His grip on you loosened, and his hands began to rub up and down your spine, gently, softly, lovingly.
You both laid there for a moment, his cock still deep inside you. Pushing yourself up, you sat upright, Cassian letting out a groan at the feeling of him still inside you, your juices leaking between your legs and onto his skin. His hands rubbed at either of your thighs, both of you breathing heavily as you stared at one another— lips swollen, skin flushed, hair disheveled. You let out a deep breath and let your mouth fall open slightly.
“You are incredible.” Cassian breathed out, looking up at you, still entranced in your beauty. He admired the marks on your body from his mouth, and felt a small smirk growing on his lips. You let out a small exhausted laugh, your hands coming to rest at his shoulders, rubbing your thumb absentmindedly on his skin.
“So,” You said, still breathless, your voice raspy, “What now?”
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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 16
Azriel x Reader Fic
Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.
Find other parts here: Master List
To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.
Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.
Word Count: 2.2k
Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.
Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.
The world felt soft around you. You took a deep breath in through your nose as you curled deeper into the softness of the blanket. You gripped it and felt a hard frame dig under your fingers, and a soft rise and fall. You curled your head in and felt a heavy hand resting on your hip, a welcome pressure and warmth as you yawned slightly, wiping your face onto the blanket. You opened your eyes and became aware of where you were, and when you looked up, you saw Kai, his mouth slightly open, breathing slowly in and out. You shot up, awaking Kai as you did, accidentally pushing into his stomach and he let out a grunt as the air left his lungs.
“Well good morning to you too.” He wheezed out, rubbing the back of his head.
“I’m so sorry.” You said, rising up, brushing the front of your dress down. “I shouldn’t have stayed. I’m sorry.”
Kai only looked at you, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”
“I shouldn’t have stayed, I’m sorry.” You repeated, trying to gather your shoes you’d taken off.
“You don’t need to rush off.” Kai said, and then added, “And you don’t need to apologize either.”
“I just-” you started, “I shouldn’t have done all of this.”
“Y/N, it’s okay,” Kai repeated.
You tried to calm your racing thoughts as you dug in the blankets for your other shoe.
“Y/N, just stop.” Kai ordered, “Just calm down.”
You stopped, your chest heaving.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“I just-” you started, “I shouldn’t have told you all of that last night, and I shouldn’t have stayed.”
“You would have left in the middle of the night? And then what?”
You stammered out, “I’m sorry Kai, this was a mistake.”
Kai gestured around, “Where is the mistake? We had dinner, we drank, we talked, we fell asleep.”
You tried to reason through your feelings. Why did you feel so dirty, so foul. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” You said.
“What idea should I not be getting?” Kai asked.
You stammered again, “That I’m like, leading you on.”
Kai chuckled. “Ah, I see.”
You looked at him, slightly confused by his response.
“We had dinner,” Kai repeated, “And then you fell asleep. I don’t see where me offering you dinner and then us spending time together is you leading me on.” You looked at him, unsure of what to say, “And even if I felt those feelings towards you, I’m a grown male. I can handle rejection.”
You tried to speak but couldn’t get anything out other than, “I’m sorry,” you dropped your face to your hands, “I’m being stupid.”
Kai chuckled, “Yes, but that’s nothing new.”
You shook your head. “I shouldn’t have told you all of that.”
Kai rose to his feet, slightly taller than you and approached you, pulling your hands down, “I asked.” He said, “You told me.”
You shook your head, “It’s not your concern.”
“You’re right,” Kai responded. “It’s not, unless I want to think about it. Which I may. And I may feel sad you have to deal with all of it, but it’s not life changing for me. And I don’t regret you telling me.”
You shook your head again, Kai pushed your chin up to look at him, “I don’t think less of you. I’m not upset and I don’t feel burdened with this information about your life.” He joked, “And I’m also not falling in love with you, since apparently you think so highly of yourself.”
You smiled and chuckled slightly.
Kai stepped back, “So let’s move on. Let’s call it what it was, a fun night between friends.” You nodded slightly. Swallowing back your fear. “Nothing more.”
“Nothing more.” You repeated.
________________________________________________________
You helped Kai clean the cottage up, folding the blanket back, and rinsing plates in the well behind it. The whole time Kai made idle chitchat seemingly normal in comparison to your own mind which continued to race with regret. This male, so kind and pure, so unburdened and the second you felt a moment of comfort you may as well have slit your stomach open and let the contents fall out in front of him. You cursed the ease at which you allowed yourself to share all of that. You tried to justify it being the wine, but you had feared for a while getting too close to anyone again. You couldn’t fully figure out why you felt so against letting people in, but you felt an inherent need to distrust whoever you could, as if in any moment they might turn on you.
Kai helped you load the rest of your things onto Clover, who seemed annoyed that you were intending to still make the journey home. He seemed content to live the rest of his days on Kai’s lawn.
When you tried to say a speedy goodbye Kai turned you to look at him. “Hey,” he started, “I’ll see you later?” He asked.
You nodded slightly, and wished him well, turning to walk back into the woods. As you retraced your steps, you replayed the scene in your mind—the happiness and peace you felt wrapped in Kai’s arms, how quiet the world had seemed to be. Your mate was absent last night and eerily silent today, leaving an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Days turned into nights and back into days again, a routine of solitude and fleeting shadows that seemed to drift behind trees and under bushes, always keeping you on edge.
When you returned home, you released Clover into his pen and unloaded your bags onto the table in your cabin. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady yourself. The world wouldn’t end just because you’d opened the door to someone. You kept repeating this to yourself, knowing Kai held no ill will and had no ulterior motive. He had laughed but had sworn to keep your secrets.
You tried to busy yourself, but your mind kept flitting back to the conversation, distracting you to the point where you accidentally sliced your finger while cutting vegetables. You watched the blood seep from the wound, dripping onto the dirt below as you tried to focus on the searing pain.
You wouldn't ruin this for yourself. You wouldn’t run from this.
---
A few weeks later, as summer faded into autumn, you found yourself running low on sugar and flour. You were also growing stir-crazy from being alone, so you decided to take a trip into the village, opting to leave Clover behind. The entire journey, you rehearsed what you would say to Kai, trying to sound normal, which just made you feel more strange. You did the entire journey in a day, propelled by your own anxiety.
When you crested the hill, peering down into the village, you gulped down your fear. You ran your usual errands, not sure if you were hoping to see Kai or not. After getting what you needed and exchanging pleasantries, you found yourself standing in front of his cottage door. Your hand hovered above the door for a good minute as you raised and lowered it, debating whether to knock. Finally, you built up the confidence and knocked, your heart in your throat.
From behind you, you heard, “Thank gods you finally did it.”
You whipped around to see Kai, his linen shirt slightly unbuttoned, casually leaning against the banister of the stairs. “I thought we’d be here for another hour before you finally got around to it.”
“You ass!” you yelled. “How long have you been standing here?”
“As long as you’ve been considering knocking,” Kai chuckled, shaking the loose hair out of his face.
“You really are an ass, you know that?” you threw at him.
Kai stood from the banister, walking up the stairs to you, opening the door. “Only when you remind me,” he said, flashing you a cheeky grin.
You stood in the doorway as Kai entered, throwing down his satchel full of tools and kicking off his boots. He turned over his shoulder, “You coming?”
You stepped through the door, standing awkwardly near the entrance as you pulled it shut behind you.
Kai busied himself unpacking his bag before he looked up at you from where he squatted on the floor. “You gonna say something or did you just come here to stare at my glorious physique?” he asked, gesturing to himself.
You stammered out, “I- I don’t know why I’m feeling so nervous.”
Kai furrowed his brow, standing up, rubbing his hands on his pants. “Why are you nervous?” he asked.
“I-I just have been feeling really off these last few weeks,” you said.
Kai rubbed his hands over his face. “Gods, Y/N, are you still thinking about what happened? Or what didn’t happen?” he asked.
“No!” you said back, slightly too loudly.
Kai chuckled, “So then what’s got you so jumpy?”
You swallowed, and Kai looked slightly concerned. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked, taking a few steps towards you.
Your eyes widened as he closed the gap between you. “I-” you started until he was in front of you, peering down at you with concern in those green eyes. Those beautifully green eyes.
“I-” you stammered again, and then you were up on your toes, your hands wrapping around the back of his neck, fingers curling into that stupidly unkempt hair, your lips pressing into his with a desperation you didn’t know you had in you. Kai seemed taken aback slightly, his arms wide before he melted into your kiss. He leaned forward, bringing you back down onto your feet, his arms wrapping around your back and waist as you tasted each other. He tasted of sun and sweat, and you pressed yourself deeper into him, your hand clenched in his hair, eliciting a groan from him. Kai pressed you against the door, his body curling against yours, one hand firmly against the wood. Your tongues danced, the sound of your breathing echoing between you as you explored each other’s lips. You gripped his shirt as though you were dying of thirst, and Kai lifted you slightly, his hand pressing into you.
When you finally pulled back, you kept your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted as you breathed heavily. You opened your eyes to see Kai smiling slightly down at you.
“That’s what you were nervous about?” he joked.
You scowled at him. “No.”
Kai laughed, “Then can you tell me, or can we kiss some more?”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“A handsome, irresistible idiot that you couldn’t wait to kiss?” he asked.
You pushed your hands into his chest, giggling slightly. “I can most certainly resist you.”
“Mm, doesn’t seem like you can, given you debated for about an hour about knocking on my door,” Kai said as you pushed past him into the main room. He turned to look at you, leaning casually against the door, eyes glazed and his hair tousled where you had run your hands through it.
“You certainly think highly of yourself,” you mocked him, crossing your arms.
Kai smirked, “I have to admit, I do feel like a winner.” You rolled your eyes as Kai looked at you. “Let it be told that you kissed me. You started that.”
You looked to the floor, rubbing your forehead slightly. “I know,” you laughed out. “I-I don’t know why I did that.”
Kai gestured to himself, “Irresistible charm and charisma.”
“Sure,” you responded. “I’m sorry.”
“You love that phrase,” he said. You glared at him. “I’m just saying, you say that every other sentence.”
“I do not!” you scowled at him.
“You do too,” he said back. “You look at me when I’m talking to you and apologize for it.”
“Well I’m-” you caught yourself.
“See! You were about to do it again,” Kai said, pointing at you.
“I was not!”
“You absolutely were,” Kai immediately said back.
“You’re so annoying,” you groaned at him.
“Annoyingly handsome?” he smirked back.
“You know I had plans to come here to tell you I needed some distance and time,” you said, leaning against the table.
“And then you attacked me and kissed me.”
“I did not!” you shouted.
“Mm, kind of did,” he said, shrugging. “Seems a little counterintuitive.”
“Look,” you started. Kai looked at you, but you ran out of words to say.
“I’m going to be honest,” Kai said, “I’m not sure I can so easily just pretend that it didn't mean anything. But if you need that to just have been an overcome moment of emotional vulnerability, and you don’t want it to mean anything, I can try to act like that,” he offered.
You shook your head, unsure what to say.
“Or we can move on like that didn’t happen.”
You considered the options, but with Kai standing across from you, so casual, so easy to be with and talk to, so close—you didn’t want to just act like it didn’t mean anything.
You crossed closer to him. “I think it doesn’t not mean anything.”
Kai furrowed his brow, looking up slightly. “So that means...?” he said.
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you growled at him. And he did.
Everything inside of you felt as though it were on fire. Every sensation became heightened as you were enveloped in the kiss, from your fingertips down to your toes. You took him in, tasted him, and devoured him. For the first time in a long time, your mind went completely silent. Kai gripped your hip, hoisting you onto the table. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he ran his hands down the small of your back, while your hands explored his shoulders and neck, firm from years of hauling downed trees. The only sounds in the cottage were those of kissing and heavy breathing. Kai’s touch was tentative, his hands gently grazing your skin, as if he were fighting himself from gripping you entirely. You brought your hands to his cheeks, pressing firmly into them as your tongue danced with his.
You hadn’t felt this much uncontrolled passion in years, and your body seemed desperate for more. Anything more that could be offered, you would take. You yearned for someone to touch you, to run their hands over your sacred skin without it burning in pain. You wished night after night for someone to savor your kiss, for you to want to give it without fighting. And here was Kai, hands searching for comfort, moving with your own as if in a dance where you led. His rhythm matched yours as you enveloped yourself in him, your chest pressing into his as you urged him closer, deeper into yourself.
This male, this glorious male who had listened to you, watched you bumble through the history of your life with nothing but a smile on his face, was now fully yours in this moment. Between your legs, you felt the heat of your own anticipation, a longing you hadn’t felt in a very long time. In pressing your hips into Kai’s, it became clear that he too wanted more than what lips could provide. You reached your hand down between the two of you, running your hand up and down the length of him, eliciting a moan from his open mouth.
“Y/N-” he started, the sound of it like ecstasy leaving his lips.
You gripped the back of his head, pulling him closer as you moaned in response.
Kai shifted a bit, pulling back, and you groaned in protest. Your body suddenly lacked the warmth of his, and you felt an immediate emptiness where he had been. You opened your eyes to meet his, slightly downturned, not nearly as glazed over as you were sure your own were.
“Y/N,” he said again.
You sought answers within his eyes, wondering if he was not enjoying this despite what his body had told you.
“What?” you asked, breath barely leaving you.
Kai shook his head, throwing the hair from his eyes. “We need to slow down.”
You shot him a quizzical look, feeling the weight of the world collapse onto your shoulders. “What?” you repeated, pulling the hem of your skirt back down your thighs.
“I just-” Kai started, refusing to meet your gaze. “You’ve been through a lot, and I just want to make sure that you want this.”
You tilted your head slightly, the blood rising in your cheeks. “What do you mean? Of course I want this. I kissed you.”
Kai shook his head lightly, finally meeting you with his green eyes. “I’m just worried that you’re moving quickly, given you haven’t been with anyone since...” He paused, stammering a bit.
You felt a flicker of flame in your stomach as you furrowed your brow, your voice slightly laced with confusion and anger. “What do you think I’m doing?”
“Nothing!” Kai responded. “I don’t know.” He paused, looking towards the floor as he wrapped his hands around the back of his head. “I just don’t want you to rush into this because you think it will make everything better.”
You shook your head in confusion, as though trying to shake those words from existence. “No,” you whispered. “No, that’s not at all what I’m doing.”
Kai looked at you, his eyes focused and hardened. “Am I the first male you’ve been with since him?”
Your eyes frantically searched his face as you paused, considering what answer he might be looking for. “Yes,” you finally answered.
Kai swallowed, and you watched his throat bob as he lingered on your answer. “Am I the first male you’ve told about... everything?”
You took a deep breath in, the flame in your stomach rising higher. “Yes,” you firmly answered.
Kai softened slightly, taking another step towards you, taking your hand in both of his, pressing softly into it. “I just don’t want you to throw yourself into this because I’m the only one you’ve shared this with.”
You pushed back slightly. “Kai, I’m not just throwing myself at you because you did that.”
“I wasn’t saying you were,” he started, but you continued.
“No, no. You’re saying that you think all anyone had to do was listen to my sob story, and I would just fall into their arms?”
Kai’s mouth parted slightly as his eyebrows fell, hardening in defense. “That’s not at all what I’m saying.”
“What? Do you think that I can’t control myself? Or that I haven’t considered all of this?”
“No! I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
You almost yelled out, “Then don’t hurt me!”
Kai stopped, his face softening again as you bore deeply into those green pools. Your own head shook slightly as you sucked your lips between your teeth.
Kai stepped closer, wrapping his hand around your cheek, weaving his fingers into your hair. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he promised as you slightly turned your head away. He pulled his other hand up to meet the other side of your face, turning you back to him. “Hey, I would never, ever, ever want to hurt you. I don’t even think I could.”
You scanned his face, so innocent, so willing to make promises with so little understanding of their gravity. Kai’s eyes closed as he leaned into you, his lips grazing yours as you let your own eyes close, leaning back into him. His lips softened as you did, as though he pulled the tension from your body through the connection of the two of you and disposed of it. Your body melted back in slightly, but you intended to still hold on to some of the rising displeasure in your stomach.
When he pulled back, you gave him a feigned scowl. “I don’t like that you have that as an option now,” you declared.
Kai only smiled and gave you another soft peck. “I just want to enjoy this with you.”
You rolled your eyes. “Sure.”
“I’m serious,” Kai gripped your face. “I just want to make sure that this is good for you.”
You shook from his grip. “I’ll be sure to give you a performance update,” you smirked.
Kai’s eyes rolled as he let out a soft huff of exasperation, then smiled genuinely at you. “Just don’t shut me out,” he pleaded slightly.
Your face fell slightly flatter as you just responded, “Don’t give me a reason to.”
To my readers, I'm sorry for what you are about to witness:
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lessons in touch
pairing: azriel x f!reader
summary: azriel’s curiosity and penchant for spying reveals exactly why you’ve been more…enthusiastic in bed lately
word count: 5.8k :0
warnings: smut (not super detailed)!! 18+ mdni pls, az being nosy
a/n: this is one of my faves so far :’) i have this persistent silly headcanon that az is the biggest busybody of them all and that’s why he’s so good at his job
masterlist
banners by @/cafekitsune <3
Sex between you and Azriel was far from boring. It was a well known secret that Azriel had a predilection towards kink and experimentation, so your adventures with him between the sheets never left either of you dissatisfied. Far from it, actually.
Being with him was always pleasurable, wonderful, and unrivaled by any you’d had before him. During girls night, you had always attested to his prowess, said that his skills of observation extended past the battlefield and very much into the bedroom. And his wingspan…you would neither confirm nor deny whether the theory around Illyrian males and their wingspan was true, much to their chagrin, but the mischievous smirk that curled your lips was all they needed to confirm their suspicions.
Azriel was a skilled lover; he knew your ins and outs, understood almost innately how to coax pleasure from you with a simple, well placed brush of his fingers. More often than not, Azriel had you in a puddle on the floor before he could even take his pants off. Which, ordinarily, was a more than welcome skill — you loved how well he knew you, adored how he loved you so much that his brain was like a file cabinet of information about things you liked.
But you’d grown frustrated lately, more and more desiring to reduce Azriel to the same pleasure filled putty that he so often did with you. His composure was infuriatingly ironclad; you knew he felt the same primal, overwhelming desire that you did — such was the nature of the mating bond — but he was much better at masking it.
In short, you wanted to know what made him tick, what made him beg and whimper and plead with you to touch him. You’d been mated for a year now, and while his desire for you never waned, you had yet to find the one thing that made him sink to his knees and beg the way he so easily coaxed you to do for him.
It was no secret that your mate had a bold competitive streak. But your own stubbornness rivaled his own, leading to long, long card game nights and sparring matches — much to everyone else’s entertainment.
Though you knew you had no reason to feel such competitiveness when matters of the bedroom were concerned, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance that Azriel had so easily figured out how to make you squirm in a multitude of ways — with all your cards on the table — while you were still somewhat in the dark about his most favored bedroom inclinations. Azriel kept the secrets of his hand close to his chest.
So you vowed to yourself that you’d figure it out, test his composure to see how exactly to make that beautiful, calm countenance crack. It was like a game, but one you were more than willing to play and even more determined to win.
Ever the observer however, Azriel caught on to the changes in your excitement beneath the sheets, amusement and adoration coursing through his veins as he reveled in your sudden vigor, never shying away from a challenge.
You had been more experimental in your bedroom endeavors as of late, asking him to bend you this way and that, introducing things that he never thought you’d be interested in — not that he was complaining in the slightest. Though your differences were strikingly obvious, Azriel would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about where your sudden interest in various sexual niches had sprung from.
Initially, it was all fun and games; if you wanted to explore then so be it — he’d match you stroke for stroke every time. But eventually, his nosiness had wedged its way deep into each crevice of his mind until he was all-consumed, curiosity devolving into a burgeoning anxiety.
Was something wrong?
Azriel was positive that if you were bored you would tell him. Had you heard something from one of the others that spurred you to want to explore more? Had you felt as though you had to introduce novelty every time to please him?
You had to have known that was far from the truth; no matter your state, Azriel had always made it clear to you that you were the most exquisite creature he’d ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone laying with. He didn’t think there was anything wrong…at least not for him. Maybe you felt like something was missing.
“Penny for your thoughts, brother?”
Rhys’s voice snapped him out of his anxious musings. Azriel hadn’t realized that he was pacing so furiously he could have worn a hole through the floor. Both Rhysand and Cassian had been watching with amusement glinting in their eyes. After all, it was a rare sight to see their ordinarily calm and stoic shadowsinger so worked up.
The same poker face Azriel had worn to win countless games of cards against his brothers masked his features now, but the twitch in his brow and the near missable ruffling of his wings were tells that Cassian and Rhysand were well acquainted with.
The shadowsinger had never perfected his stone faced indifference when he was thinking of you.
Cassian ventured a guess, “Have you upset Y/N?”
Cassian had meant to tease, but the way Azriel stayed silent had his eyebrow arching in question. Azriel ignored the curious glance from his brother as his mind ran in circles once more.
Had he upset you? Was your sudden experimentation in bed some roundabout way of telling him that he had done something to hurt you? No, no…that didn’t make sense, he was being illogical.
Or…Had he somehow missed picking up on something that you liked?
Your sudden interest in sexual exploration was far from a problem, but he got the niggling sense that you were up to something, playing a game that he wasn’t privy to. And he wanted in.
Azriel was private by nature, never revealing more of his relationship with you than absolutely necessary to his brothers, not wanting to overshare in fear that he’d fall victim to their incessant teasing. But this…maybe it would be useful to get their opinions about your sudden change in interests? Cassian and Rhys were both mated males afterall, and maybe there was something Azriel was missing. He would never admit it to anyone but himself, but he fell victim to his crippling neuroticism more times than he’d like to. Curiosity and anxiety were two sides of the same coin.
So he indulged and told his brothers of your sudden vigor in bed, enthusiasm to try something new every single time. You’d been insatiable as of late and he didn’t know why; nothing had changed that he knew of and it was concerning him, he couldn’t stand not knowing.
“So,” Rhys started tentatively, narrowing his eyes in confusion, not quite grasping the issue that Azriel was so hesitant to endorse. “Y/N is trying new things in bed.”
And elsewhere, Azriel thought with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He’d leave that part out, though; Rhys probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing the details about the going-ons in the dining room of the townhouse. And the gardens. And the hallways.
“And you’re complaining?” Cassian asked, incredulous, similarly at a loss for his brother’s concern.
“I’m not complaining, Cass,” Azriel groaned and slumped unceremoniously into a chair (much like an irritated school child who’d been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to), immediately regretting his poorly thought out decision to confide in his brothers. “I’m just confused. I don’t know what she wants.”
“Have you considered asking her?” Rhys inquired, infuriatingly teasing smile curving his lips.
Azriel deadpanned and clicked his tongue, not believing that Rhys would assume he was so inept at communicating with his lover, “Of course I’ve asked. She just says nothing’s changed. I believe her, but it’s still bothering me and I don’t know why.”
Both Cassian and Rhys resisted the urge to laugh, mentally conversing about how Azriel’s affections for you often reduced him to an adolescent-like lovesickness, begging and willing to please. Az had been this way since they were children; fiercely competitive and subsequently pouty if he didn’t have the upper hand, always wanting to know and learn everything he could.
This side of the shadowsinger was one that did not make an appearance often, reserving itself until he was around the few he trusted wholeheartedly.
The past couple of centuries saw even less of this endearingly childish and competitive Azriel – even around his closest friends – as Night Court duties and his identity as Spymaster overshadowed most opportunities to be vulnerable in his relationships.
But when you came around, light began to spark beneath the shadowy depths of Azriel’s countenance as you slowly coaxed him to trust and love as fiercely as everyone knew he was capable of, with the reckless abandon that his childhood self so easily embodied.
“Maybe check her nightstand,” Cassian teased with a wink, only half joking, as a quiet happiness bubbled within him at the small glimpses of Azriel’s vulnerability. “Some of Nesta’s best kept secrets are hidden there.”
Before Azriel could furrow his brow and chastise his brother for snooping through his mate’s belongings, a realization hit him.
Nesta.
You had been spending an awfully large amount of time with the eldest Archeron sister in the library lately, choosing to hole up there in lieu of your other hobbies when you weren’t training or engaging in your various other Night Court duties.
But Nesta would be a dead end. There was no way he could approach her without tipping you off to his secret sleuthing. Though he and Nesta were friends, her loyalties laid with you; there was an unexplainable female camaraderie between you – a chosen sisterhood, if you will – and if he asked if she knew anything about what was going on, she’d go running to you, mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
The conversation with his brothers was about as helpful as he initially thought it would be, and he let himself succumb to their jokes about how wrapped around your finger he was. Azriel had endured it graciously, knowing better than anyone that they were right, that he was indeed wrapped so tightly around your little finger that he was unsure of where he ended and you began. That he would gratefully stay in the palm of your hand for as long as you would allow.
But that night, after you had told him not to wait up for you because you’d be having drinks with Feyre and Mor, Cassian’s voice reverberated insistently in his mind.
Check her nightstand…best kept secrets…
Azriel resisted the urge to snoop for all of ten minutes before his inherent nosiness clouded his judgment and got the better of him; afterall, his love for secrets is what made him such an effective spymaster. Before he knew it, he was rolling onto your side of the bed, inquisitive hands pulling open your bedside drawer.
Hidden among the small stack of books he had given you was a thick novel with a cover he recognized, but gave no second thought.
It was a book you said Nesta had lent you. When he asked if you liked it you said it was “only okay” and that you’d let him know if he should read it when you were finished. Despite your lukewarm review, however, it had never left your side, and he had found you on more than one occasion cozied up with it in your hands, cheeks dusted with a heat he knew all too well.
Azriel was well aware of the content of the books Nesta favored, often lending a reluctant ear to a whiny Cassian whenever she paid more attention to her books than him.
But there was no way your sudden excitement for novelty in the bedroom could be inspired by Nesta’s smutty recommendations…right? He leafed through, assessing hazel eyes quickly skimming the paragraphs, catching glimpses of the prose that had you so enraptured.
Azriel felt the back of his neck heat.
It was smut, as he assumed. But this was truly…filth. Pure, unadulterated, filthy smut.
Azriel was a lover of all books, never having been one to categorize or judge them by popular opinion. And, to be completely fair, he had read a decent amount of books filled with sex and romance.
But…he was sure that the acts detailed in this one would make even the Court of Nightmares’s debauchery look saintly. Even Azriel, who had been correctly assumed to be the kinkiest of the Inner Circle, felt tame in comparison to the words flickering across the pages of your book. How did you read this with such impassivity on your face?
Azriel snapped the book shut with such force the pages blew a cool, gentle breeze onto his heating face. He tried – and failed – to not picture you in the position the main character in your book was described in, unintentionally sending a soft hum of his burgeoning arousal down your bond. He was beginning to understand your desire to replicate the more salacious scenes detailed in your novels.
Having fun without me, Az? Came your teasing inquiry in his mind, as he meticulously replaced all of your belongings into your nightstand.
Don’t be nosy, he quipped back, extremely aware of the irony of his statement. And then after a beat he added, answering your question with a sincerity that never failed to grip your heart, Never without you, love.
You left him waiting for a response a little bit longer than you normally would as you attempted to control the thundering beat of your heart in your chest. You were convinced that no amount of time could ever diminish the effects that Azriel’s blatant display of love had on your composure. As much as he was wrapped around your little finger, you were just as tightly wrapped around his.
I take back what I said earlier, wait up for me.
Azriel smirked to himself, feeling a flare of triumph, It’s a date, then. Maybe I’ll find something interesting to read in the meantime.
If you caught on to his sly insinuation, you did not let on, just continued bantering with him for a few moments before returning your full attention to your friends, who were no doubt attempting to extract morsels of information from your obviously lascivious exchange with your lover.
But that night – even after Azriel had promptly fucked you into a blissful oblivion – had yielded no more information about your recent proclivity for finding a new kink, so Azriel did what he did best and spied.
He kept a watchful eye on the books you read, and tracked the times you asked him to try something new. He spent more time in the library than necessary under the guise that Rhys had put him up to some research.
Which was only half of a lie. He was in there to do reconnaissance, yes, just not for Rhys.
Azriel scanned the bookshelves for anything that seemed like it had been recently replaced, pages still clinging to the sweet scent of your skin. A title he recognized caught his eye and he slotted it out of place, flipping through the pages to confirm his suspicions.
This book was shorter than the others he’d seen you carry around, but certainly no less obscene. A smirk pulled at Azriel’s lips as he read a dog eared chapter that you had clearly marked for inspiration, recollections of your most recent tryst in his office flooding his awareness.
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You had sauntered into his small, private study at the House of Wind, short dress skimming the curves of your thighs as you bent to greet him with a kiss to his cheek. He’d been distracted at the time — surveying maps and cross referencing with ancient textbooks — and barely tore his attention away from his work long enough to squeeze your hand in greeting.
But you didn’t seem to mind, opting to make yourself comfortable and purveying the books neatly organized on his shelves. When you’d found a book you thought would be interesting enough — though probably not quite as interesting as the one you’d just finished, per Nesta’s recommendation — you settled into the armchair across Azriel’s desk, shoulders against one armrest as your legs draped over the other.
Azriel looked up at you then, soft smile curving his lips. He loved when you kept him company while he worked; somehow, whenever you were around, work never seemed nearly as daunting or overwhelming.
You met his gaze with your own grin, silently communicating your support of him in the way that only mates could, tugging gently on the bond before winking at him and resettling your attention back to the book in your lap.
The both of you worked in that wonderfully comfortable silence for a while before Azriel caught you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye. The sun had begun its routine descent below the horizon, cool breeze stirring the sheer curtains framing his windows. Though summer had plagued the days with heat and humidity, the nights were still cool as the last dregs of spring eked away.
He looked up, intending on asking if you needed anything — a blanket, maybe — but the words died swiftly in his throat when he eyed a flash of bare skin as you swung your legs to stand, showcasing just enough for him to clue in to the fact that you were indeed not wearing underwear. Or anything else under your dress, if the peak of your nipples beneath the silk was anything to go by.
Selfishly, for a brief moment, Azriel decided that maybe keeping the windows open wouldn’t be so bad.
He pried his eyes away from your form making its way back to his bookcase, and instead attempted to tamp down the raging lust stirring in his belly so he could focus. But the mental picture of what he knew lay beneath the barely there fabric of your dress coupled with your scent made the lines on the map he was studying blur into nonsense.
Though intelligent and compassionate at heart, Azriel often found himself a slave to his baser male instincts when it came to you. There was little – if anything – you could do to quell the raging need to touch you, kiss you, be near you at all hours of the day; his desire for you was a constant hum belying his daily routine. He had not one iota of self control when you were involved, much to his simultaneous thrill and chagrin.
Inwardly, he cursed himself as he stole another glance at you as you stretched onto your toes to reach a book on the top shelf.
Beauty incarnate, truly, he thought. Azriel’s eyes tracked each slope and valley of the lines of your body, taking his time to commit each curve to memory, the way he should have been doing with the maps sitting now uselessly on his desk.
You looked at him over your shoulder, small pout on your lips, “Az, can you help me? I can’t reach.”
Azriel’s heart leapt. It’s like you were doing it on purpose, and in hindsight you definitely were. But despite the gnawing adoration encouraging him to fall to his knees and worship at your feet, he stood with the cool grace of someone unperturbed by their mate’s subtle seduction.
Azriel obliged you, coming up behind you, one hand curling around your hip to steady himself as the other reached easily to the top shelf to grab the book your fingertips skimmed. As he leaned forward, you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back and you wanted to abandon all your plans to slowly seduce Azriel into a puddle on the floor, but you remained steadfast in your decision. Nesta had pushed a book into your hands and said she tried this once with Cassian and that the resulting hours were pure heaven, and you wanted to test the theory, curiosity rivaling that of your mate’s.
You barely registered Azriel putting the book in your hands, too lost in the warmth of his familiar touch. But you composed yourself quickly, leaning back into him to kiss him in thanks, not so subtly pushing your ass back into his hips. A feeling of revelry settled in your chest when you felt him already half hard beneath his pants, his fingers curling tighter around your hip.
Oh so reluctantly, you pulled away, perfect picture of obliviousness as you plopped back down on the armchair you were occupying previously.
Azriel thought he would collapse in on himself when you went to sit back down. You had him so tightly ensnared it was like he was still in the midst of the initial mating frenzy. He briefly wondered if the mind-boggling need for you would ever go away, though part of him knew hoped it never would.
He took a moment to compose himself — if that was even possible when one’s mate was clearly playing a dangerous game of seduction — bracing himself with one arm steady against the bookshelf.
Despite how much Azriel so greatly wanted to shirk his responsibilities to bend you over his desk, he wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. The work day wasn’t quite over, and the plans he was making for you would surely last too long to finish his research afterwards. So he steeled himself and took a deep, steadying breath, willing his blood to fill his head again so he could think with some semblance of clarity.
Though at baseline, he always found it difficult to think rationally when you were around.
While Azriel was trying — and failing — to regain his composure, you were feigning extreme interest in the book you had selected at random: The History and Systems of Fae War Treaties.
If Azriel had been paying any attention to what you were reaching for, he’d have caught on to your ploy, but luckily for you the mere sight of you was enough to render him at least somewhat incapacitated.
You took a peek at him over the back of the chair, triumphant satisfaction crooking your lips into a mischievous smile. Maybe this would be the day he finally cracks, you think to yourself.
But as the sun dipped lower beneath the skyline of Velaris below, and as Azriel stubbornly worked away at his desk, you felt the tiredness of the day settle into your bones, pull you deeper into the plush leather of Azriel’s loveseat. Cassian had run you ragged with training this morning, and Rhys and Amren had your mind working tirelessly as the three of you attempted to draft a peace treaty in a meager four hours.
But you wouldn’t sleep, not yet, not until you had reduced Azriel to a beautiful, orgasmic mess in his chair. Not until the hazel of his eyes were blown dark with desire and pleading as you straddled his hips.
The next hour was a fight to stay awake as the words on the pages in your lap began to blur into obscurity, mind muddling with theories and questions — though the book was an off handed choice, you couldn’t deny that the information was coincidentally incredibly pertinent to the discussion you were having with Rhys and Amren earlier in the day.
The telltale sigh of a day’s work completed pulled your attention away from your book, gaze settling on your mate. His hair was mused in a way that told you he had spent the last however long skating his fingers through it, but as always it fell perfectly across his forehead in defiance of the tiredness creeping up his neck.
Azriel’s eyes met yours and apparently your coy seduction earlier still held his body in a vice, evident in the way he stood and stalked to you. There was a cool, domineering edge to his movements and you knew your plan had worked to a degree, but the determination you had to break him down had leeched out of you the same way the night had stolen the day’s heat.
You hummed in satisfaction as he leaned down to kiss you, the pressure gentle and so, so sweet. A stark contrast to the dark and tempting storm of desire Azriel flooded your senses with down the bond.
Never once breaking the contact of your kiss, he’d wedged a knee between your legs as one hand braced against the arm of the loveseat while the other danced at the hem of your dress, endearingly asking for permission.
Your mouth curved against his and you guided his hand up to your hip, gasping delightedly when his hand tracked further up your waist, bringing the hem of your dress up with it as he slotted your hips more comfortably against his leg.
His lips traced a scalding trail of open mouthed kisses against your jaw, your neck, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest that had your hips rolling against him.
“So bold for me,” he said, his hand skating across your unclothed skin while he urged your hips to grind a little harder against his thigh. You gasped, the pressure so wonderfully perfect against your cunt.
Though your initial intention was to get Azriel all hot and bothered, you couldn’t deny that the game you had set yourself up in had the same effect on you; the lingering, almost lazy path his eyes swept over your body every time you shifted across from him left heat singing between your legs, untamed longing for you dancing down the golden thread between you.
“Az…” you rasped, arching your hips up to meet his still clothed body, the top of your dress pushed languidly down to your waist as Azriel played slow music on the skin of your breasts. The loveseat was a cramped fit at best, but Azriel’s surprising flexibility and dexterity made it work despite the general largeness of his wings and frame. He’d made even the smallest corners of the House work for your sexual escapades.
The memories of all the scandalous little happenings you two have been partaking in the past few months flitted across your mind’s eye like an erotic slideshow, and you groaned. Legs tightening around his in desperate search for more friction, more contact, more of him. His name on your lips again was a wanton plea, a sound so wonderfully obscene Azriel almost came in his pants.
“Hmm?” He hummed, closing his lips around your nipple, teeth gently tugging before his tongue was quick to soothe the ache. The way your hips were grinding so shamelessly against him had his head spinning with a swirling mix of lust and love, and he clung to the last shreds of self discipline he had. It was all he could do to not tear both of your clothes off and sink himself deep into your brilliant warmth.
Azriel had always been patient, mastery over his desire was a skill he’d honed meticulously over the past few centuries — though you had a way of quickly unraveling his self control with one flutter of your eyelashes. But he wanted to make this last for you, wanted to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. So he pressed his thigh more firmly between your legs, his own hips slotting against the side of your body.
You gasped at the feel of him, of how hard he was against your hip, and you tried to reach him, tried to get him to release some of the tension you knew coiled in his belly. He groaned deep and breathless when you pressed insistently against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he continued his ministrations on your body.
Azriel’s hands were everywhere, trailing paths around your breasts, up your neck, into your hair, and between your legs the way he no doubt was doing with the maps on his desk earlier.
It was infuriating how close you were already, how swiftly the tables had turned (though you half blamed the sudden onset of your fatigue the day had cursed you with), how with one well placed touch you were on the brink of collapse at Azriel’s mercy yet again.
He was urging your hips faster now, his fingers and lips making quick work of all the places he knew would have you keening. And before you could even register that he was still fully clothed, hard cock still straining against the confines of his pants, you were falling, breathless and dizzy with release.
The night had been far from over. You came twice more in that godsdamned loveseat – once with his fingers buried inside you and another time with his head between your legs – before he whisked you away to your bedroom where you finally, finally felt the delicious stretch of him inside you.
By the time the sun was making its appearance over the horizon once more, you had lost count of how many times Azriel had you begging.
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Though your spicy little rendezvous in his office – and encore in the bedroom – wasn’t quite an exact replica of what played out in the book you had apparently just read, Azriel had thought your coy seduction had its intended effect. He’d been so fucking desperate for you that he couldn’t wait until you were out of his study to have you coming for him.
But, as he skimmed the pages of the chapter you marked, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he wouldn’t mind being fully at the mercy of your whims, wouldn’t mind submitting to the pleasure that you so easily coaxed from him. He was already always so eager to please you, so willing to crawl to the ends of the earth for you if you had so much as suggested you wanted him to.
“Azriel?” Nesta’s voice dripped with wicked amusement, effectively pulling him from his erotic reverie. “I never thought I’d see you in this section of the library.”
Fuck.
He hadn’t anticipated that he’d run into Nesta, a severely idiotic oversight on his part considering the House’s library was something akin to her own personal sanctuary. Azriel turned slowly on his heels to face her, mind working in overdrive to come up with a viable excuse for him being there.
“Nesta,” was all he came up with. Pathetic.
Her smirk turned deadly when she realized he was floundering. Arms crossed over her chest, chin tilted ever so slightly upwards, she looked the very portrait of smug amusement; he would expect nothing less of his friend who moonlighted as Lady Death.
Nesta’s eyes dropped to the book he forgot he was holding, and her eyebrows shot up in understanding, “Ah, I just recommended that one to Y/N. She gave it a hefty five stars. Said it was…intriguing.”
Nesta’s sly comments were enough to confirm Azriel’s suspicions that you were taking bedroom inspiration from the arsenal of smutty books the House stocked. And, with the way Nesta was biting her tongue, he could tell that she knew exactly why he was there.
Cassian, that fucking mouthy bastard.
Before Azriel could open his mouth to tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like – even though they both knew it was exactly what it looked like – Nesta stalked past him, pulling books off the shelf with striking precision. With a stack of five books balanced on one hand, she took the one Azriel was holding and reshelved it.
“These are Y/N’s favorite,” she said, this time with a little bit more softness and understanding as she placed them gingerly in his arms. “I’m sure she’d love if you read them.”
Azriel scanned each cover, a fond smile working to tilt the corners of his lips. You did love these; he had been familiar with these covers long before you were even mated, always keeping a lovingly watchful eye on the things you enjoyed, filing the knowledge away in his mind for later.
“Thanks, Nesta,” he said sincerely, adoration for you filling his chest with warmth as he remembered the excitement lighting your eyes while you read these books, cute flush radiating off your cheeks.
Nesta only nodded, giving his shoulder an encouraging few pats as she stalked off to another aisle, no doubt scouring the shelves for a new read.
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Azriel told himself that he’d only read a few chapters — for research — but he hadn’t realized that he’d spent the better half of his day off lounging on the loveseat in his study.
Despite his previous reservations around the smutty books you’d so lovingly treasured, he found he was enjoying them — and not just for the well written, detailed sex scenes that you were pulling ideas from. He was two-thirds of the way through the second book, in the midst of the big climax, when you snuck up on him.
“It seems you’ve discovered my dirty little secret,” you said coyly, arms coming up behind him to snake around his shoulders.
Azriel jumped at your sudden appearance, inwardly cursing himself for teaching you how to sneak up on someone so effectively. He closed the book swiftly, feeling a flustered blush creep up his neck.
You pouted and rested your chin on his shoulder, “Aw, you were just getting to the best part! Don’t stop reading on my account.”
Azriel groaned but gave in, leaning back into your touch, “Don’t tease me.”
“I would never tease you, my love,” you said mockingly before kissing his cheek. “It is really the best part, though. The paint scene—“
Before you could regale the details of the main characters’ sexual escapades, Azriel took your chin in his fingers and slotted his lips over yours in a silent plea to stop your innocent tormenting. He reveled in the way you kissed him back without pause; he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way you loved him as eagerly as he did you.
“Dirty little secret, huh?” He quipped, lips brushing yours as a bemused smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you made your way around the back of the chair, gesturing for him to uncross his legs so you could settle yourself on his lap.
Your weight was a welcome comfort as he continued prodding you, “Is this why you’ve been so…eager lately?”
“I didn’t think you’d notice,” you admitted, winding your arms around his neck as he scoffed in mock disbelief.
“Give me some credit love, I notice everything when it comes to you.” Came his quick response.
You pursed your lips, half in childish dissatisfaction that your little game was over, “I just wanted to know how to get you to beg for me. I needed ideas.”
Your nonchalance belied the wicked sensuality of your words and he chuckled, wrapping his wings around you both before mapping a scathing trail of kisses up your neck. The pillowy feel of his lips brushing your ear made you shudder, his teeth nibbling playfully at your earlobe as he hummed deep in his chest, “We have a lifetime together, there’s no rush. But since you want it so badly, shall I show you how well I can beg for you?”
Azriel’s offer sent an exhilarating shiver down your spine, and you so desperately wanted to give in, wanted to watch him come undone beneath you as he pleaded with you to touch him. But you shook your head despite yourself, competitive stubbornness the only barrier between you and what you wanted.
“I want to earn it, make you want me so bad you can’t help yourself.”
Your words were a breathy murmur that nearly had Azriel flipping you over right there on the too small lounge chair, but he resisted, prioritizing his assurances that you were the only thing he wanted every second of every day.
“That’s the thing, beloved,” he whispered in your ear, deep voice doused in honey reverberating in your bones as your desire flared so wildly it made you lightheaded. His hand, calloused palms rough against your skin, skated beneath the hem of your dress to grab hold of your hip and move you so you were straddling him.
This was the image you played over and over in your mind. The unbridled, unrestrained look of pleading in his eyes that blew his pupils wide, that had his hips shifting against yours in a display of just how much he wanted you.
“I always want you,” he continued. “I’d beg for you like I am dying of dehydration and you are my oasis. Just ask, and I’ll do exactly as you say.”
You were mesmerized, finger tracing the sharp contours of his jawline before ending at his chin, tilting his gaze up with the same practiced dominance you’d seen him slip into countless times before. You savored the way he shuddered at your touch, pretty lips parting as his chest heaved.
The corner of your mouth quirked, your breath a ghost over his lips, “Show me, then.”
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Overheard
Azriel x Reader angst → smut
based on this request
warnings: smut below the cut, exhibitionism
“Have a good night,” you murmured to Feyre, pulling away from her hug as you gave one final wave to the other females in the room and turned in search of your mate.
Cassian’s deep laughter boomed from the drawing room, and you smiled as you followed the sounds of his and Rhys’s sounds of jest, sure that was where your mate would be as well.
“A threesome?” Azriel’s voice cut through the room, stopping you in your tracks. Heart pounding in your chest, your cheeks flushed with deep embarrassment as Azriel continued.
“You think she would be interested in a threesome?” he asked again, incredulous at what seemed to be Rhys’s suggestion by his response.
“I’ve offered the idea to Feyre before - it’s certainly an option to spice things up if you’re bored,” the High Lord purred.
Chest caving in on itself, you could feel the weight of your heart crumbling inward at everything you’d overheard. The thought that you weren’t enough for your mate brought tears to your eyes, guilt and worry wracking through your body.
Azriel was the first and only person you had ever had sex with, but he’d never made you feel insecure about it until now. Biting your lip in an attempt to hold back the tears that threatened to fall, you made intentionally loud steps towards the drawing room and listened to the conversation stop.
Peering your head around the doorway, you forced pleasant smile as you tried to look at Azriel and failed, gaze falling to focus on the siphons at his shoulders instead.
Willing your most even voice, you managed to ask Azriel if he was ready to go home in what you hoped was convincing calm. With a subdued nod to Rhys and Cassian, you turned away from them without waiting and exited to the balcony.
The cool night air was a balm against your heated cheeks, damp lashes drying from the gentle breeze. “Is everything alright?” Azriel questioned softly, a scarred hand resting gently between your shoulder blades as he came to stand behind you.
“Fine, Az,” you eked out, granting him a curt nod before turning to help him lift you into his arms. “I’m just tired,” you lied, and while Azriel sensed it, he said nothing before holding you to his chest and shooting into the sky towards home.
Days passed with the same tension, Azriel’s very touch reminding you of how unsatisfying yours was to him. You curled up on the far side of the mattress at night, cold sending shivers down your spine despite the heated hazel gaze at your back, silently begging for answers to your avoidance.
But each time those golden eyes found yours and you found yourself yearning for Azriel’s touch, you were quickly drawn back into yourself and your apparent inadequacy. If Azriel would not talk to you about his desires in the bedroom, then you wouldn’t speak to him about what you had heard.
A week passed of the same routine - mumbled pleasantries and cold bedsheets - when you stood before the mirror, applying the finishing touches to your makeup before family dinner at the River House.
“You look beautiful,” Az murmured shyly from where he stood in the doorway. For a spymaster, he was incredibly clueless as to what he’d done wrong to deserve your distance this week. “Are you alright to go to dinner? We could stay here and talk, just the two of us.”
Biting back the bitter laugh that threatened to bubble out, your eyes slid to his through the reflection of the mirror. “No, Azriel, I’m perfectly happy to go to dinner.”
Your shoulder barely brushed his arm as you twisted through the doorway, slipping outside without bothering to see if he followed. Stepping into the cool evening breeze, you found only a moment of relief before the realization hit you that Azriel would need to carry you to fly.
With a frown, you looked over your shoulder to see your mate watching you with amused interest, hands tucked into his pockets as he shifted his wings playfully.
“Since you’re so intent on avoiding me, do you intend to walk to dinner? It should only take you a few hours... I could save you a plate,” he teased, mirthful eyes glittering in the glow of the setting sun.
“Or, you could let me fly you there?” he asked, arms outstretched, a satisfied smile stretching across his face to match as you begrudgingly stomped toward him and looped your arms around his neck.
“There’s my girl,” he murmured, warm breath fanning your neck in a way that reminded you just how untouched you felt. Warm hands wrapped around the back of your legs, and you were lifted effortlessly, cradled into the toned heat of Az’s chest.
Taking off into the sky, Azriel loosed a defeated sigh when you turned your head away from him once more and opted to focus on the burning embers of the sun sinking over the mountains.
With the River House in sight, the tension in your body only grew as you were forced to remember last week - the males’ conversation that was the very reason for your current ire - unsure how you could put on a normal facade for this dinner.
Setting you down gently on the grass, Azriel tucked his wings in behind him, but as you turned to head into the house, his hand wrapped around yours in silent request. “Please talk to me,” he pleaded, voice rough with unspoken emotion.
Turning over your shoulder, you felt his guilt - and furthermore, his need - through the bond, striking you dumb. Gaze focused on you, touch hot against your own, you nearly caved to your desire for Azriel right there when the front door swung open.
“Come on in, we’re waiting on you!” Cassian hollered from the entry, effectively shattering the building tension as you recoiled into yourself once more.
“Come on, Az,” you muttered, locking your fingers with his as you plastered on a fake smile and led him into the foyer where Rhys and Feyre stood smiling.
Giving them each warm hugs, you feigned a pleasant manner as best you could before wrapping an arm around Azriel’s bicep - the most eager you had been to touch him all week - and his eyes flickered with something like anger at the motion.
“Excuse us, we need to have a talk,” Azriel growled out, his attempt at remaining civil much weaker than yours as he pulled you back towards the same drawing room you’d overheard him in last week.
“Go ahead and start eating without us,” Azriel called over a shoulder, just before Cassian and Mor could voice their complaints.
Shadows swirled around you, pushing the door closed with a click as Azriel’s arms caged either side of your head. “You can be angry with me all you want - I won’t stop you from processing whatever you need to feel in your own time - but we will not fake this relationship. I won’t pretend like everything is fine when it isn’t, and touch you in front of my family when you haven’t wanted to be near me all week.”
Your heart tumbled at his words, guilt weighing on you at the thought of showing your mate love that was anything less than the pure adoration you felt for him. But those feelings were quickly quelled as you remembered where you were, and your fierce gaze lifted to the shadowsinger’s.
“You won’t be ‘fake,’ is that it?” you taunted, chest heaving at the sheer anger you finally released after bottling it up for too long. “You won’t touch me in front of your family, because cauldron forbid they know something is wrong, but you would talk to your brothers about our sex life?”
Confusion flashed across Azriel’s face before shifting to anger that matched yours, his hands flexing against the wood behind you in an attempt to leash his ire. “What are you talking about?”
With a disbelieving scoff, you gestured dramatically to the room where he’d sat last time you were here. “I heard you, Azriel. Last week at dinner, you asked Rhys and Cassian if they thought I would be interested in a threesome. You never mentioned that to me, never even hinted that you might be ‘bored’ like Rhys said. You couldn’t talk to me, but you could talk to them?”
Your voice broke on the last words, too hurt to speak anymore. How could you trust your mate if he told others you weren’t good enough, and wouldn’t even tell you?
“Hey,” Azriel murmured, his voice much gentler as scarred hands cupped your cheeks, thumb wiping at a stray tear that had escaped. With a deep sigh, Az bent to press a kiss to your forehead, resting there for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.
“My brothers are idiots,” he growled. “Rhys and Feyre like to bring others into the bedroom on occasion, and he was only teasing that they’d be interested in joining us.”
Pulling away, Azriel looked down at you with an intensity that made your legs feel weak, one hand tucking under your chin to tilt your face to his. “I have never, ever found sex with you to be boring.” He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him at the thought.
“We were made for each other,” he whispered, lips hovering against your own. He released your chin in favor of sliding his hands down your body, resting on your waist where his thumbs rubbed soft circles against the fabric of your dress.
“You make me feel like nothing, no one, ever has before,” he breathed, the scent of your combined arousals dizzying. Your head fell back against the wood of the door, legs parting in silent plea for more of his touch that you’d been missing.
“I’m sorry, Az. I should have asked you before assuming,” you apologized, lips capturing his in a messy, quick kiss. “And now that you’ve explained, I’m not upset if bringing in Rhys is something you’d like to talk about.”
Shadows swirled erratically over Azriel’s shoulders, grip turning firm on your hips. “I am not interested in sharing you with Rhys, or any other male, for that matter,” he ground out, body pressing yours firmly against the door. “But since Rhys is so interested in our sex life, I’m happy to show him how not-boring it is.”
A knee pushed your legs open, scarred hands lifting your hips to settle your heat across Azriel’s thigh while shadows bunched your dress skirts up to your waist.
“I want you to be loud for me, love. Let them hear those pretty moans,” Az murmured against your neck. Onyx waves tickled your skin as warm lips tracked down your jaw, neck, chest. Pushing down the straps of your dress, he groaned at the sight of your breasts as they sprang free, skilled fingers teasing and twisting your nipples in tandem with your hips rolling needily against his quickly-dampening pant leg.
“Please,” you whispered, hands struggling to find purchase in your mate’s hair. “I need you now.”
“As my mate wishes,” Azriel murmured, undoing the ties of his pants before lining himself up at your entrance.
Cock rubbing through your slick folds, you mewled at the feeling of his tip brushing your clit, breathless as your lips parted at the stretch of him slowly pushing inside of you. Azriel held you suspended against the wall, his length speared impossibly deep inside of you while shadows roamed your body, cool wisps of air teasing places only they and their master knew.
“You are so beautiful,” Azriel whispered, chasing your lips with his own as he pulled out slowly, only to thrust sharply back inside of you.
A moan tore through your body, hand flying to your mouth instinctively to muffle the obscene sounds. Eyes gleaming with feral delight, Azriel tutted in disapproval.
“I told you, I want everyone to hear those pretty noises,” he teased as dark tendrils wound around your wrists and pulled them taut above your head.
“Don’t hold back,” was his only warning before Azriel started pounding up into you, knocking the air from your lungs as you bounced limply on him, the pleasure too much to think of anything else.
You couldn’t hear so much as feel moans and mewls leaving your throat, raw sounds of pleasure echoing through the space as you neared your climax. Back bowed against the wooden door, your eyes shuttered at the feeling of Azriel’s thumb on your clit, sending you spiraling into a blinding orgasm.
Legs shook, and you thanked the Mother for a strong mate who held you as the last of your high wracked through your body, leaving you weak and satiated. Azriel moaned, sweat lining his brow as your mate’s cock twitched inside of you, warmth flowing into you when he hit his own high.
Sweaty limbs tangled with each other, euphoric smiles plastered on both of your faces while you collapsed to the floor in Azriel’s arms.
“You’re right,” you whispered softly against his chest. “I don’t know how I believed that could be boring.” Azriel laughed loudly at that, his hand affectionately threading through your hair as he pressed his lips to your head.
“No, I can’t imagine ever getting tired of you,” he swore, voice soft as velvet. Slowly, you both stood and pulled on your clothes, giggling at your weak attempts to look presentable - everyone knew what you did, after all.
Walking back down the hall to the dining room, you turned the corner to find everyone at the table staring at you with varying levels of shock and amusement. Azriel’s hand found your lower back, your mate the picture of nonchalance as he guided you to your normal seats and began loading your plates with food.
You looked around to see they hadn’t eaten much, eyes flicking to Mor who swirled her wine across the table. “You haven’t started eating?” you questioned softly, reaching for your own glass of water.
Red lips curved into a wry smile. “No, I don’t think many of us have the appetite anymore,” the blonde teased, arching a brow as honey eyes flicked between you and Azriel.
Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, you struggled for words when Azriel spoke up for you. “Well, we have worked up quite the appetite,” he drawled, sending you a wink that had the table laughing and silverware chiming as everyone continued with the meal.
Pulling apart a piece of bread from your plate, you felt a warm, familiar hand slide dangerously close along your inner thigh. The scent of cedar and mist invaded your senses as Azriel leaned in, lips brushing your ear.
“Make no mistake, I will be having dessert when we get home,” he teased, squeezing your skin softly before turning back to his food.
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#azriel acotar#azriel#acotar smut#azriel x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanfic#acotar imagine#acotar reader fic#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel fanfic#acotar fic#acotar azriel#azriel x reader smut#acotar azriel x reader#azriel x reader angst#azriel x reader fluff#acotar angst#acotar fluff#morrigan#rhys acotar#cassian#azriel x y/n#acotar reader imagine#acotar x reader smut#acotar x you
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Be Safe | Azriel x Reader
summary: you are on your way to Day Court when Azriel stops you. After the two of you fall victim to Cassian's and Mor's teasing, Azriel realizes why he can't just let you go.
warnings: fluff and a hint of suggestiveness at the beginning
note: I saw this tiktok and decided to write it into a little scenario because I loved it so much.
“Oh, you’re going to love the Day Court,” Mor purrs with a grin. “And it’s High Lord. Helion…let’s just say his pegasus isn’t the only thing you’ll want to ri–”
“Oookay.” Cassian chimes in with a chuckle, placing his hand over Mor’s mouth to keep her from finishing her sentence. “Settle down, Mor. We don’t want her to love it too much!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll come back,” you respond and then laugh as Mor bites Cassian’s hand. "Besides, Rhys will be there and he’s, you know, my boss. This trip is purely professional.”
The three of you stand in the foyer of the town house, Cassian cradling his hand to his chest with a pointed look at Mor, who merely rolls her eyes. You were heading for Day Court, where Rhysand already waited for you. Cassian and Mor had stopped you, insisting on wishing you well before leaving, even though your mission was amicable. The only danger you could possibly encounter on your trip, it seems, would be Helion’s chambers. A welcomed danger, if Mor’s insinuations were to hold truth.
“I should go now. I told Rhys I would be there within the next half hour almost an hour ago.”
As you gaze at your friends, a subtle ache tugs at your heartstrings, a silent yearning for another’s presence. Though you know he's currently engaged in a mission, you can't help but wish he were here beside you too.
You turn away from your friends, preparing to winnow to the Day Court. It's as though the Cauldron itself heard your unspoken longing. Just as you're about to step forward, a hand emerges from the depths of the shadows, halting you in your tracks with a gentle yet firm touch.
You turn back around, watching as the darkness seems to part for him, revealing those warm hazel eyes that could pierce through the darkest of nights. “Azriel,” you greet in pleasant surprise.
His eyes lock onto yours and you suddenly find it hard to breathe. “Be safe,” he murmurs, his voice deep yet sweet like honey. The way he looks at you, full of concern and something else you can’t quite discern at the moment, sends a delightful warmth seeping into your heart.
Azriel’s gaze flickers down toward your intertwined hands and you notice the subtle tension that comes from his scarred hands before he abruptly lets yours go. It’s a moment of vulnerability that makes your chest ache. You want to reach out for his hands again but he comes to stand by your side instead.
His arm brushes against yours. The dark tendrils dancing around his shoulders revel in your proximity, slithering down his arm and coiling around you in a cool embrace. You welcome his shadows, smiling softly when you feel them tug you closer to their master, deliberately enchanting you with the scent of cedar and night chilled mist. It’s as if they don’t want you to leave his side.
“I will,” you finally respond, your voice a mere whisper as you look up at him
Azriel’s gaze softens. The tension between you dissipates into something lighter, something magical. The world around seems to fade into darkness, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment that feels both infinite and fleeting. No words are spoken yet so much is said.
Meanwhile, Cassian and Mor exchange a knowing look of their own. The mutual crushing between you and Azriel has been evident to everyone for years. Well, everyone, except for you and Azriel. Mor and Cassian will give you grace, as Azriel can be unreadable at times. But Azriel? The spymaster of the Night Court? How he cannot see your unmistakable crush on him is beyond them.
“Be safe,” Cassian says, mocking Azriel’s tone.There’s a mischievous gleam in his hazel orbs as he gazes down at Mor, pouting his lips in an exaggerated manner.
Mor’s eyes light up, mirroring Cassian’s mischief. She leans in toward Cassian’s shoulder–the very same way you’re doing with Azriel. Except, she wraps her arms around Cassian’s larger one, resting her head on his chest. “I’ll be so safe,” she cooes, voice like velvet.
Azriel feels the heat rising to his neck. He turns to Cassian and Mor, gaze darkening with an icy glare. “Stop,” he warns but it only encourages the two further.
They continue to hug each other and make kissing sounds. A blush creeps up your cheeks and you seek solace in Azriel’s arm, burying your face against it. Azriel’s wing instinctively curls around your form in a protective manner. Were you being that obvious? Your answer is immediately given as your hands gravitate towards each other once more.
“Stop it! Or I’m going to kill you!”
Cassian pulls Mor even closer. His brows furrow, softening his expression as he directs his pout toward Azriel. “But how would that keep us safe?”
None of you will be safe if you keep delaying y/n. Helion does not like to be kept waiting, echoes an all too familiar voice–Rhys’s– through your minds. He leaves your mind as quickly as he entered it, lingering only in Azriel’s long enough to add: Let her go.
Azriel blinks, not realizing that throughout the teasing, his fingers had intertwined with yours. He turns his attention back to you, reluctantly releasing your hand. A sheepish expression takes over his features as he brings the hand that had been holding yours to rub the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t help but worry when you’re not home,” Azriel admits quietly.
Mor and Cassian both let out a sound that Azriel is quick to stifle with his shadows.
“It’s only for a week,” you assure him as you open the door and step outside. You feel a flicker of anticipation tingling in your veins as you prepare to winnow. You turn back to face Azriel and your friends one more time.
“Don’t miss me too much, okay?”
But I miss you already, Azriel thinks as he feels a strange stirring awakening deep in his chest. His shadows buzz around him in excitement.
“Bye, y/n. Have fun but not too much fun!” Cassian calls out to you in mock warning over Azriel’s right shoulder.
Mor peeks out from Azriel’s left shoulder and winks at you. “But if you do find yourself having too much fun, call for me, okay?”
“Sure,” you agree and Azriel fails to notice the reciprocated teasing in your tone.
He’s too busy glancing between Cassian and Mor, hazel eyes wary. His shadows whisper to him, confirming the suggestiveness of their words. Uneasiness settles into his stomach, causing his entire body to tense up.
He’s familiar with the flirtatious nature of the High Lord of the Day Court. Too familiar that he can already dreadfully anticipate the sweet words Helion will shower you with. His shadows stir, excitement morphing into panic. What if you fall victim to Helion’s charm?
Suddenly, he hates the idea of you going to Day.
As your gazes meet once more, an unseen force seems to settle into place. His eyes widen in realization, his mouth parting to utter your name, but it’s too late. You’re already winnowing away and he lurches forward, after you, pulled by the golden threads that have wildly unfurled within his chest.
Mate. You're his mate.
note: I did not know how to end this so please don't come for me for ending it like this lol. Just know that Az is winnowing away to join you in Day Court right after. I hope you enjoyed! <3
general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar x reader#acotar fanfiction#acotar imagine#azriel imagine#acotar fanfic#azriel x y/n#acotar x y/n#acotar x you#azriel fluff#acotar fluff
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domestic bliss
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 4.5k words
warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!
summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate
a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻
Part 2
A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.
A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling.
Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence.
"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head.
"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him.
"Well, hurry up."
"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair.
You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.
Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair.
"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly.
"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there.
"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you.
He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there.
"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss.
"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you.
Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared.
Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs.
You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch.
"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin.
"With pleasure, sweetheart."
…
The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element.
You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped.
Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night.
He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.
As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new.
A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you.
You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back.
"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips.
"Shadowsinger." You purred.
"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation.
"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room.
Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone.
After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove.
With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones.
"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting.
"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs.
"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly.
"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.
"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you.
"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh.
Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.
"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.
"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.
"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze.
"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye.
"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress.
"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you.
"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over.
"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"
"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down.
"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit.
"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway.
…
Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen.
He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts.
A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his.
A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.
"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent.
"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.
"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.
"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.
"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"
He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually.
"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.
"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking.
"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.
It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore.
Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are.
Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him.
The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"
He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down."
He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him.
"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him.
His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go.
"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"
"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.
"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion.
"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."
He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa.
"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.
His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought.
"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart.
"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."
Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there.
He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite.
"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven.
He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile.
"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.
"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile.
"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.
Read Part 2 here!
#azriel#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#azriel one shot#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar oneshot#acotar x reader#azriel fluff#acotar#azriel spymaster#rhysand#feyre#cassian#fanfiction#fanfic#one shot#imagine
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As a slut for angst today “tolerate it” has been stuck on a loop and now I am imaging an angsty fic where Az just slowly begins to forget about reader and she threatens to leave but he doesn’t take her seriously and is so utterly destroyed when he comes back home and she’s gone…
Like I feel like it’s on brand with him and his duty to his job and whatnot. Plus the lyrics are so him coded “while you were out building worlds where was I” / “took this dagger in me and removed it” LIKE HELLO???
(But I also love a good happy ending so I feel like if azzy groveled hard enough… 👀)
Tolerate it.
Summary: She is fed up.
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: ehehehehehe angsttttt yummy yummyyyy
Enjoy!
•○🌑○•
Y/n laughed at Feyre's pathetic attempts at skipping the large puddle on the ground accumulated due to the rains that had Velaris freezing overnight.
Feyre failed miserably, her boots and leggings getting wet from the splash that signalled her downfall against the watery enemy of hers. But Feyre was not fazed. She simply laughed alongside Y/n, her eyes crinkling as the two of them made their way back to the river house.
It was visible already now, Y/n could even make out the grains in the wood of the door as it opened, and her brother in laws, along with her mate, spilled out.
Y/n could see from the corner of her eyes as her sister lit up at seeing her mate, her husband and the father of her child. The moment his eyes met her, she took off, her arms spread as she ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Rhysand did not hold back either, clutching Feyre to her chest with as much enthusiasm as she held him.
It made Y/n smile.
Y/n then glanced behind the embracing couple to her mate, the overwhelming urge to hug him too and to claim him in front of anyone watching making her start walking towards him without even realising.
Which was reckless, as the moment he realised she was walking towards him to hug him? He took a step back.
Y/n knew that he hated being affectionate in front of others, but this was cruel.
So to not get embarrassed by his rejection, Y/n turned swiftly towards Cassian, her other brother in law, who stood not too far from where Azriel did, and hugged him instead.
Cassian, Mother bless his heart, did not even question it.
He wrapped his arms around Y/n and literally lifted her off the ground, cackling when Y/n's fist made contact with his shoulder over and over again as she demanded to be put down.
Y/n had to stop herself from thinking back to that day. She did not want to relive the pain she had felt, the sadness and anger.
Y/n watched his eyes fluttering, wondering if he was dreaming. Wondering who he was dreaming about.
It definitely was not her, that was for sure.
Y/n, feeing a little sadness taking root in her heart, returned to the portrait in her hands, questioning if it would even be worth it finishing it up when he sure as hell wouldn't even acknowledge it. Or her.
Y/n glanced at the paint supplies she had placed on the coffee table next to her, having wanted to capture a moment of him letting his guard down, of him being vulnerable using her best paints, knowing he would not care.
She guessed living for as long as he had, life and the small things didn't matter as much anymore. Maybe that was why he loved to go on the missions Rhysand, Y/n's brother in law, gave him.
It probably gave him the thrill nothing else did anymore.
With Y/n's sister just having given birth to the starlight of the court, Rhys had become more and more protective, sending his brothers and anyone and everyone at his disposal to check and report about every trivial thing that made his primal mate and father side get protective.
Slowly, Y/n reached for the brush that rested in the cup half filled with coloured water, deciding to finish the half done portrait. If he did not care... she did not now what she would do then, but she did know she was tired of being tolerated by him.
But what could she even do? It was not like she could just up and leave.
Y/n blinked.
Or... could she?
Y/n shook her head, as if to dislodge the though, and with a sigh, she let herself get lost in the soft skill of painting her sister had taught her long ago, when staying up and huddling under worn blankets was the only thing bringing any warmth.
Trying not to think about the fact that the last time she remembered him caring for her, genuinely caring for her, was only when the two had been in their early stages of relation ship and the mating bond was a very new experience to a newly made fae Y/n, she continued using the soft and strong, long and short strokes to finish up her latest masterpiece.
Of course, Y/n never would call herself a creator of masterpieces, but any and all art that included her perfect mate was destined to be a masterpiece.
Time lost its meaning, and all that mattered was capturing the perfect angle for his eyes, nose, lips, shoulder.
Nothing existed but Y/n, her art, and her muse.
Nothing existed but the soft rise and fall of his back as he lay sprawled on his stomach, the effortless way his wings draped across the whole bed, taking up space three wingless fae could have slept in.
Where Y/n would have slept in, on days when everything had been filled with stars and dreams, wrapped under his warm wing like it were a living blanket.
When he pretended he was nothing, absolutely nothing but her mate. Her husband. Not a spymaster, not a shadowsinger, not a brother. Just her mate, her lover.
Those days were far gone now.
•○🌑○•
Despite the fact that she knew he would most definitely not care, Y/n was excited.
And that was downplaying what she felt.
The wait was killing her, the amount of adrenaline in her bloodstream making her want to jump around to get rid of the energy that made her shiver, her limbs going cold and warm at the same time. She had to push her fists together and shove them between her thighs to keep them from shaking, which did not help at all.
So Y/n waited, her body clenched in anticipation as she stared at the doorway that led into the living room, a big grin on her face.
She glanced once at the sketchpad in front of her on the table, admiring her artwork for a moment.
She never liked whatever she made, always feeling like it lacked something. So for her to be excited to show off her art to her mate was a huge indication to how much she loved the portrait.
The familiar scuff of worn boots drew Y/n's attention, and she shot to her feet, pressing her fists to the back of her thighs.
It had become a habit of Azriel's, to purposefully make some noise before he stepped in view so as not to startle her with his appearance.
The action melted Y/n's heart every single time.
He stepped into view, as ethereal as the day Y/n had first seen him as a human, just as beautiful as he had looked that day as he tried to get comfortable on the small chair in the manor on the other side of the wall, just as loveable as that day when she had ended up losing her heart to the low born fae that should have intimated her.
He was fumbling with his armor, making sure it was all secured properly before he left for whatever mission Rhys assigned him for that day.
He glanced up just as he walked past Y/n to the kitchen counter, a small smile gracing his face before his attention was again diverted.
Y/n tried not to deflate at his lack of enthusiasm.
"Good morning love. Look-"
"Good morning Y/n." He cut her off, his voice void of emotions, as if he was tired of saying the same thing every morning and wanted to get it over with. He didn't even glance at Y/n as he said it, and Y/n pretended not to notice that he used her name instead of whatever endearing name he would have picked before.
"I will be on a scouting trip to Illyria, and after I have a meeting and dinner scheduled with Rhys and Cass, so I will be late coming home. Don't wait up."
Y/n's smile faded. "Don't wait up or stay out of my way?"
Azriel froze. "What?"
Y/n released a humourless laugh. "Nothing. Go have fun."
Azriel turned, giving her a hard look. "You know I would rather stay at home with you."
Doubtful.
Y/n so badly wanted to say it to his face, but she did not want to fight with him so early in the morning, so she sighed, smiled and nodded.
He started walking towards the door, and despite her anger, Y/n walked forward to kiss his cheek.
She did not miss how he recoiled.
Y/n masked the hurt before he could see it, and he gave her an awkward smile before he maneuvered to walk around her, careful not to brush against her.
Y/n watched him walk away, staring hard at the door even long after he'd left.
She then glanced at the portrait she had abandoned on the table, and, her heart hardening, turned away.
She was tired of having her love be tolerated, and she would not have it be that way anymore.
Either he accept her love the way it was, loud and clear, or he go find someone else.
And so, she turned, walked up the stairs to the bedchambers she shared with Azriel, and began to turn it back into just his bedchambers.
She would no longer be tolerated only because some godly entity thought she and him would make great, powerful kids and tied them together with a string.
She deserved to be cherished.
•○🌑○•
Part 2
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