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[pit-and-the-pen]

If It All Fell (9)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: Thank you so much for sticking around. I had to reread this entire series to write this part and it made me remember how much I love sharing it with you all ♡ Italics indicate memories (oooooo👀).

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

One of the many downsides to losing your memory was your lack of card game knowledge. An inconsequential tidbit when you took a step back and evaluated the hardships that plagued you, but a fact that was currently causing you a massive headache and a massive loss, all the same. 

“This is just completely unfair,” you huffed, tossing your cards on the table and leaning back in your chair. “I can barely even remember what you said the rules were.” 

“Hardly my fault, sweetheart. I gave you a run down before we started,” Cassian slyly grinned. 

You scoffed. “There were over fifteen steps to this game! And I feel like you made up half of them!” 

“While that would definitely be something he’d pull,” Mor piped in, an accusatory glance in Cassian’s direction. “He’s innocent, this time. This is just a really complicated game.” 

“Oh yeah, great. Make the amnesiac play the complicated game so she’ll lose. That's really classy, Cassian. Great sportsmanship.” 

Cassian had the gall to look offended, a hand placed at his heart. “You used to be great at this game, I’ll have you know. You won every time. We banned you, actually.” 

“You banned me from playing a card game?” 

Azriel, who had been fighting off a laugh with his tongue against his cheek, spoke up from beside you. “Very strictly banned, as well. For the last hundred years. You’re lucky we’re letting you play now.” 

Your mouth dropped open in the most wounded expression you could manage, mirth dancing in your eyes as you turned your head to catch the shadowsinger’s blush-tinted cheeks. 

Things were… good between the two of you. The same, but good, mostly because you had refrained from even alluding to his mate. When you didn’t talk about her, or look at anything that might have belonged to her, or question Azriel on the sadness in his eyes, he stayed glued to your side. It was a wonderful friendship the two of you were cultivating—one built on one-sided secrets where the answers were locked in your brain. 

“What could I have possibly done to get banned from a card game for a hundred years?” you gaped.

Azriel’s wings rustled behind him, unfurling to cloak your back in warmth. He laughed. “You cheat.” 

“I cheat?” 

“I wouldn’t call it cheating, exactly,” Mor defended, sliding her cards face-down on the table in favor of the snack plate in the center. “Not when it’s not your fault.” 

“Bullshit!” Cassian exclaimed, fist coming down in a loud bang. “She knows how to control her magic. She chooses to use it during the game and that makes it cheating.” 

Mor pointed an accusing finger in Azriel’s direction. “And what about his shadows, then? You’ve never had a problem with him playing, oh great game warden.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes as if looking at Azriel for the first time. “Brother, you cheat as well?” 

In the most jovial tone you’d heard Azriel take, he refuted, “I absolutely do not.” 

That had spiraled into another argument you were not part of, and you took the opportunity to pick your cards back up and attempt to run through the rules again. It was a game of chance, really, but it was also a game of wit and that wasn’t your strongest suit at the moment. 

Maybe if you tried a little bit harder—

“Okay, your turn, y/n,” Azirel called you out of your fruitless thoughts. “Just try to pick one.” 

Your lips twisted to the side as you examined your cards and looked up at your opponent. Cassian appeared quite average, no shifting eyes or telling sighs. He was very good at this game, allegedly. 

You flicked your eyes back down to your cards, but, no—something didn’t feel right about that. 

You looked back up at Cassian, and something shifted. 

Something… seemed off. Like he was—

“You’re lying,” you stated as if it were a well-known fact. “You’re lying so hard right now. So that means I should take this and…” 

Your last words trailed off as you slapped a pair of cards on the table. You looked up to Cassian with a smug expression, the general narrowing his eyes and swiping his own cards aside. He scoffed, and then scoffed again, the second time paired with his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah? And how would you know?” he challenged. 

Your head jutted back in disbelief. You gazed around the table but none of your opponents offered the same look. “Are you kidding? It’s practically pouring off of you.” 

“What is?” Azriel softly asked. 

“His lie!” you exclaimed, hands raised in shock. 

“How so?” Mor posed. 

“All around him.” You shook your hand in the direction of the General, making some form of a circle. “He’s just a terrible liar and you can see it. I thought you all said he was undefeated?” 

“I was,” Cassian huffed out with a laugh. “Against everyone other than you.” 

His words sobered up your competitive mood, the rest of the table having come to a conclusion you only just realized. Azriel sat beside you with bated breath, tenseness apparent in the coil of his wings and shadows. Mor tried and failed to hide her smile behind her lips. Cassian didn’t even attempt to hide; his smile was vibrant without a hint of defeat. 

“Does this mean—” 

“Yes!” Mor gave a small cheer. “Something is happening in that beautiful brain of yours and you’re coming back to us!”

Coming back to them. 

As if you weren’t sitting right there. 

“We should ask her questions,” Cassian boomed with another laugh. “See what else is in there.” 

“Oh! We should. Think of something, Cass.” 

“What about…” 

The air around you felt suffocating as those at the table began talking as if you weren’t there. Any joy you felt at the revelation was washed, evaporated—creating a somber resolve that made your skin feel dull. 

“Maybe ask her things associated with her magic. Maybe that’s coming through first,” Mor offered. Walnut shells and wine glasses lay empty and scattered beside discarded cards. 

“I don’t think—” Azriel’s response was muted by a buzzing in your ears. 

It would never be enough. You were a full person sitting before them, but you weren’t. You weren’t the person they expected—not the person they wanted. You had been stuck in this limbo for weeks now, living under pitying eyes and hopeful half-smiles that never met their eyes. Secrets were kept because they hoped you—the real you—would eventually return and save them from sharing the hard things. 

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes. 

“We should get Rhys. He might find an opening now that her magic is—” 

“I’m right here,” you interrupted, the gravel of your tone barely audible below Cassian’s excited tone. The table fell silent, anyway. “I don’t know why you all insist on speaking about me and not to me.” 

Mor’s voice was still light as she replied, “Y/n, we don’t mean—” 

“You don’t mean what?” you laughed, the sound bordering hysterical. You caught Azriel turning his head down towards you in your peripheral. You ignored it. “You don’t mean to make me feel like half a person? Like a ghost? Because I’m right here and I have been for weeks but you all are so concerned with what I’m going to be in some undetermined amount of time that you seem to forget I’m alive now.” 

Cassian’s lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from your mouth. “I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to know about most of my life until recently. You all expect me to get better instantly, making decisions and keeping secrets as if this isn’t part of my life—as if when I get my memories back… if I get them back… all these weeks will just disappear.

“But I’ve been here,” you stressed. Your fingers were tingling and your neck felt hot. “I’ve been here and all of you—you all talk over my head. I finally get some semblance of myself back and all you can think about is what more I can do. You don’t care about me. You care about some version of me that I’ve never met.” 

You rose from the table, hands coming down harshly as you stood. Mor quickly mimicked your action, but you held a hand up, dismissing the person who had been your safe space at the start of this mess—at the start of your memory, really. 

“I need—I need,” you choked. Dim colors and minute vibrations emanated from each person in the room, making your head hurt as you looked at them. You didn’t have the capacity to analyze that development. “I need to be alone.” 

You heard yourself mutter an apology as you went, unsure what exactly it was for. Your feet stumbled out of the room, getting stuck in cracks and shuffling on marble flooring. A small prickle of embarrassment made you flinch as you went, but it was nothing compared to the harrowing emptiness that guided you out to the balcony. 

Maybe it would be better if you spent your time alone—at least until you got your memories back. You loved being around everyone, but even that was a half-truth. You hadn’t even met everyone that was supposed to be in your life.

Gripping the railing of the balcony, you sucked in a deep breath, greedy for any kind of reprieve. A soft wind met the heat of your cheeks, but it did little to soothe you. If you could just become who they wanted you to be… if you could just know everything they wanted you to know. 

Everything felt like too much. 

You had so little to go off of, but somehow that was to your detriment. 

You thought the first sign of your old self would have been a cause for celebration, but instead, it was only a call for more. More, more, more—you weren’t enough now. 

You heard your name in the wind, a soft sound that carried delicately past your ears. For reasons you could not place, the single word sent anger pulsing in your veins. 

You whipped around, unsurprised to see Azriel standing beneath the archway to the house, his expression unguarded and his shadows reaching and reaching and reaching towards you. 

He seemed to recoil at your furious gaze. 

“What?” you asked, still breathless from the way panic had taken control of your chest. “What, Azriel?” 

But words seemed to fail him as he stood there. He blinked more than necessary, shaking his head and then righting it, unsure of the direction he wanted to take. 

It infuriated you. 

“What could you have to say?” you instigated, and the harsh words made you sick. “You of all people treat me as a stranger. You say we’re close—that we are the closest of anyone—but you keep secrets, Azriel. You keep secrets and you make it impossible to get to know you. What happens if I never get my memory back, huh?”

The notion of that reality set the Shadowsinger into motion. “Don’t say that,” he almost begged, desperation lost behind gritted teeth. “We are still looking—” 

“Would it be that terrible for you? Truly, Azriel. You slink around me, afraid to share things I don’t even know are there! How am I—What am I supposed to do if this is just me now?” You tugged at your hair as frustration captured your voice. You hadn’t meant to say any of this, hadn’t planned on even hinting at your displeasure, but something snapped today. 

Something snapped and there was nothing you could do to cope with the breakage. Because you were a stranger to everyone—most of all yourself. 

“That won’t happen,” Azriel attempted to reassure, taking small steps towards your pacing figure. “We are going to figure this out and everything will be—” 

“It won’t!” 

You screamed. 

You hadn’t meant to. 

Azriel stopped in his tracks. 

“It won’t be fine, Azriel.” Back to a normal volume, your voice sounded hoarse. “I can’t keep living like this—like a ghost. It’s been weeks and there are no leads. All I have now is this hint of my powers that I’m not even sure how to parse out. They don’t make sense. None of this makes sense.” 

Your eyes were glued to your feet as Azriel’s words broke at the syllables. “I know.” 

“None of you will want me if I can’t be her.” 

“I will always want you,” he was quick to respond. 

When you raised your head, the stray tears held captive by your waterline fell. Azriel stared back at you in earnest but it felt incomplete. 

“You keep things from me still,” you said, words thick in your throat. “It’s like you’re waiting for her—for someone else. With Mor and them, it’s different. It feels different with you.”

Azriel whispered a broken rendition of your name. The color you saw reflecting from his shoulders was sharp against the backdrop of the dark house, and you had no idea its significance, but something within you told you it wasn’t going to get you what you so desperately wanted. 

“Stop,” you begged, chin wobbling. “Stop… formulating what you’re going to say to me. This is worse, now that I have my magic. I see your every indecision around me.” 

Azriel’s expression pinched and the color fizzled out as he stepped forward and held your face in his textured hands. Your anger dissipated as he titled your head up to meet his gaze, replaced by the uncertainty that often mingled with regret when he was near. 

What you were regretting, you didn’t know. 

“You are the one sure thing in my life,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel this way—that we all have. I—I have been keeping something from you. I’ve been afraid it would be too much, that I would lose you if you knew. But I’m only losing you now.” 

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. 

Azriel licked his lips and slid his hands down until his thumbs rested along your jaw. 

“You have asked about my mate.” Discomfort panged within your chest as he spoke, but you needed to hear this. Azriel closed his eyes for a pause, brows furrowed, before he met your eye once more. “It’s you.” 

Your shock came second to the blinding pain creeping up your neck. It fought with you, edging closer and closer to your brain before it fell behind your eyes and shattered all comprehensible thought. Another beat and hazel eyes were lost to darkness. 

You heard your name, felt your body go slack and arms brace your fall, but then there was laughing. You were laughing, but the sound wasn’t coming from your body. 

“We have to go back,” you heard yourself admonish in a breathless tone. “They’re all waiting for us.” 

“Let me be alone with my wife for a while longer.” 

Figures materialized in the dark space of your mind.

A purple dress. 

A ring around your finger. 

Flowers woven into the lapel of a jacket. 

“I have only been your wife for about….” you saw yourself gaze up to the ceiling of a room you did not recognize in feigned contemplation. “An hour?” 

Azriel bit back a grin and nuzzled his face into your neck. “But you have been my mate for my entire life.” 

“That’s not even true. It snapped a few months ago.”

You stood in the corner of the room as the scene unfolded, feeling like a stranger in some iteration of your life. You looked so at ease, wrapped up in the man who had caused you so much inner turmoil over the last few weeks. 

He had said you were mates. 

Was this…

“That’s not how mates work, my love,” Azriel hummed closing the distance between the skin of your cheek and his lips. “When we were created, we were created for each other. There has never been a time in my life that I did not belong to you.” 

You watched yourself smile—watched yourself curl your fingers in your mate’s hair and press your forehead to his. “Gods, you’re the biggest sap.” 

Azriel laughed. The sound was light and free and everything you had sought after these past few weeks. But you heard it here as he laid with you in his arms. 

“I can’t believe you married me,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours. 

“Of course I married you.” 

A pause. 

“Do you think you would have married me if things hadn’t worked out—after Day I mean.” 

From the corner of the room, you analyzed how your body seemed to recoil at the question. 

“Azriel, nothing could have kept me from you. Not even that monster from Day. If I hadn’t gotten my memory back—if I had to live with forgetting you—” Azriel shuddered, taking a long breath through his nose. You only brushed your fingers softly against his temple. “—I would have found you again. It probably would have been a pain in the ass to get me to listen but…” 

Azriel scoffed and pulled you closer. “You’re already a pain in my ass.” 

“That was the goal.” 

Another soft round of laughter. 

You felt like an intruder, flinching at the gleam of the ring on Azriel’s finger, hesitant to gaze around the room you had no recollection of. By the door, you could hear others in the hall. You made out Cassian and Mor’s voices, but others sparked no recognition within you. Curiosity pulled you in that direction, but before you could touch the doorknob, Azriel spoke again. 

“You wouldn’t have had to find me.” He paused. “I never would have left your side.”

And then the scream of your name woke you. 

[pit-and-the-pen]

Adore you

Cassian x plus size!Reader

A/N: Happy birthday to my mentor and very dear friend, @sarawritestories 💕 Hope you'll like this good old filthy smut with your favorite bat boy. Enjoy!

Sumarry: Nesta forces you to buy the set of lingerie you told her you found pretty despite your insecurities. Cassian, your mate, hopefully knows exactly how to soothe those insecurities of yours.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: SMUT. Rated 18+. Mature content. Weight insecurities. Spanking. Biting. Oral (f receiving).

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears 💕

“Nes- Stop it! That clearly won’t look flattering on me.”

“You said it looked good on the model!”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the same shape!” You complain, trying to resist as your friend keeps stubbornly pushing you inside the fitting room.

She frowns at you, shoving the meticulously sewed lingerie in your hands, and closes the curtain right in front of your face. Maybe the light curtain wouldn’t be really helpful to keep you inside the cabin, but the thought of Nesta’s fury if you didn’t at least try on the outfit definitely is convincing enough to stop you from trying to escape the fitting room.

“Come out when you’re done saying bullshit! You’re a fucking goddess, it’s time you realize it for yourself!” She practically shouts, making your whole face turn bright red, a perfect matching color of the pretty set of said little unmentionable. You clearly have made a mistake by admitting to your friend that you find this lingerie set pretty. You shimmer out of your clothes before she can get you even more flustered by practically getting all of the shop attention’s on your silly little fight. You make a quick work to slip into the lingerie.

Nesta is right on one thing. It does quite look good on you.

Stupid, stupid Nesta!

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you keep still, waiting for your mate to come home from the mission Rhys had sent him off to. You stand there up straight, right behind the front door of the house of the wind, wearing only the light lacy red fabric.

That, and a matching silk nightgown you had insisted on buying with it.

“Why?! You’re going to cover up every interesting thing!” Nesta gasps when you add the silky nightgown on the counter to pay.

“Well it’s either that, or I’m never wearing this again!” You scowl at her, already questioning the decision of your purchase.

You roll your eyes at the memory, and you tuck the nightgown closer to your slightly cold body. The fire in the hearth crackles, and the heat coming from it soon warms up the room. “Thanks,” You chuckle, and the lights flicker, as if the house was giggling too. What a nosy house…

Cassian, as usual, almost barges inside your shared home, the house of the wind being gifted from Rhysand to the pair of you as a mating gift. No wonder why Azriel is the spy master of this court and not him. Delicacy is clearly NOT your mate’s thing, except on certain occasions. The freezing weather of the Illyria’s mountains seeks quickly into the house, brushing against your skin as the house tries to keep the room warm. Cassian just stands there, chin falling all the way down to the floor, dumbstruck. He looks quite funny like this, only one boot off and the door handle still in hand.

“Cass… It’s huh…” You gulp, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious of how little you were wearing in comparison to him, “It’s cold.”

Cassian jaw closes, and he makes quick work to close the door and drop down his weapons right in front of the door. He doesn’t even bother to align his boots on the carpet, leaving the entryway in a mess. Usually, you would have scolded him for not putting his things back in their usual spot, but the way his eyes are devouring you on the spot… It leaves you speechless.

A breath you didn’t even know you were holding escapes your lips when his cold hand brushes against your cheek, lifting your head up to meet his burning eyes. “How was your day?” You whisper the question, it has become an automatism in your routine. He would come back home from the camps or whatever mission he was sent to, and then he’d tell you all about his day, then ask about yours.

“It’s about to get a whole damn lot better…” He growls into your ear, the nibbles he leaves on your lobe sends jolts of electricity up your spine. “How was yours, princess?” He asks, kissing his way down your neck, leaving a warm wet trail on his way down to your collarbone.

“Good, I went shopping, uh-” You gulp, words impossible to form logical sentences when he is relishing on your skin like that.

His hands fall to your hips, squeezing them lightly as he urges you to keep talking. “You did, huh?” His fingers gently pull the bow of your nightgown, but you flinch slightly, your hands moving to stop his instinctively before the last piece of clothing covering you can fall open. He lifts his face from your neck quickly, his eyes frantically searching your face as he tucks your nightgown closer to your body in order to comfort you. “I’m so sorry, love, I should’ve-”

“No, no,” You cut him off by pressing your fingers to his lips.

He takes your hand in his gently, placing gentle kisses on each of them, then on the palm of your hand, your wrist… His eyes were soft, begging for you to explain, to tell him what made you uncomfortable. He silently leads you to the couch for you to sit down and talk with him, offering you the option of either sitting on his lap or on the spot beside him. When you settle for his laps, his arms carefully wraps around your waist, attentive to each of your movements, ready to stop at any sign of discomfort showing on that pretty face of yours.

His thumb traces soft circles on your hip, his eyebrows scrunched with worry. “Tell me what’s wrong,” He whispers, his eyes pleading. You hide your face in his neck, raising your knees to your chest and sigh, his santal wood scent immediately calming down your nerves.

“I just… I got scared that you wouldn’t like how I look behind that silky thing…” Cassian raises a brow, pulling you further up his lap to get a closer look into your eyes. His face was the face of a general now, the way he is staring at you is firm, his hazel eyes deadly serious.

“Will you please let me prove you, princess, how fucking much I love this body of yours?” You can feel his breath fanning on your lips as he speaks, a wicked temptation to kiss them sparks in you. You clutch tightly onto his leathers, the soft glow of his siphons and the fire dancing in the hearth illuminating the room in a soft glow. He could see your every feature in this light, this would be in no way a similar experience to everytime you and Cassian had made love, in the darkness of your shared bedroom. If you agreed, you would agree to him seeing you fully, every shape of you, on every angle. You would lay bare, naked, vulnerable in front of your mate.

The thought only made your arousal grow, and Cassian nostril flared at the sweet scent of it. He almost growled at the smell and trepidation, still waiting for your consent. You nod, biting your lips softly, but actions aren’t enough for Cassian, he needs words. “Do you want me to worship you, Princess? Will you let me adore your body the way it deserves to be?”

You clench your thighs together for some friction at the sound of his deep, guttural voice. You were desperate for him, all insecurities vanishing at the way his eyes shine with lust and delight when he looks at you. “Yes, I want you to. Please.”

He doesn’t wait for you to ask him twice before he quickly bends you over his lap, your chest pressing against the soft pillows of the couch. He growls, bringing your hips closer to his already rock-hard member. He bucks slightly against them, his hands working on massaging your thighs. “Such beautiful legs you have, Princess… And those delicious thighs…” He wraps his hand around your ankle, lifting the lower part of your leg up, and brings his mouth to bite down the soft flesh of your calf.

You moan at the pleasurable pain of his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh, and your ass lifts up on his own. You feel his hardness twitch against your hip as it brushes against his length from your movement, your arousal shifting even more at the thought of the effect you have on your mate by just being sprawled over his muscular thighs in your little nightgown. A gasp flies from your lips at the burning sensation of Cassian’s large calloused hand meeting your plumped ass with a small smack. A warning. “Stay still for me, pretty girl, will you?” He pins your hips back down, the peak of your very lightly clothed core brushing against his leathered work pants. You nod frantically, your mind already too dazed by your arousal to think straight.

Cassian moves his tongue flat against the reddish mark he just left on your calve, groaning against your skin as if he’s devouring the most delicious thing, which is kind of what he’s doing. “I said will you?” He whispers, his voice so gutural, so primal, it makes you even more soaked than you already are. As if he senses it, his fingers release your ankle and he slides the silky fabric of your robe up, still waiting for your answer.

“Yes.” You breathe out your answer, already panting in anticipation.

“Yes what, Y/N.”

You gulp, your name rolling off your mate’s tongue feels like the most sensual caress in your ears. “Yes, Cassian, I will stay still for you. I promise.” You whine, begging for his fingers to keep touching you.

“You’re so perfect…” He purrs, gently brushing his knuckles against your newly exposed skin, enjoying the ridges on your thighs against his fingers, caused by the cellulite. You almost swear that you can hear his naughty little smirk when he speaks, even though you don’t dare move your head to see it for yourself. You keep your chin down onto the pillow, staying very still. “Mind to remind us of our safe word, Princess?”

“Our safe word is Siphon.” You whimper, feeling his fingers moving dangerously close to where you need him the most.

“Good girl.”

His fingers push the lacy fabric away from your core, exposing your glistening naked sex to him. He hums in content at the sight, and slowly slides his fingers through your folds, still not penetrating you, only coating them with your natural lube. Your inner walls clench around nothing, begging to have him inside of you. You instinctively squirm, dying to feel him closer, and you realize your mistake, unfortunately too late.

Cassian tuts and moves his fingers away from your sex, sucking them clean, not wasting any drop of your essence. After unbearable seconds of silence, Cassian dries his now clean fingers on the fabric of your nightgown. “What did I tell you, Princess…” He sighs, lightly scolding you.

You whine, and turn your head to look at him, tauntingly pouting. “To stay still?”

“To stay still,” He confirms, groping your right buttcheek tightly, his finger digging into your skin hard enough to mark what’s his. “And did you stay still?” He teases, now stroking the curve of your ass.

“No…” You mutter, and his hand lands on your other buttcheek in response, a pleasurable tingling sensation soothed by the sweet caress of his palm right after.

You squeal and giggle when he suddenly pulls you over his shoulder in one swift movement. His teeth teasingly nibbles your belly rolls, then, with one last little smack on your ass, he leads you to the bed. The way he lays you down on the mattress is gentle, careful, mirroring all of his love for you.

He pulls on your hips, dragging your ass right on the edge of the bed. “Now rest on your elbows, and I want those stunning eyes of yours to stay focused on mine. Got it this time?” He orders, like the general that he is. You simply nod, earning a teasing grin out of him. He undresses quickly, his length springing free of his trousers to slap against his abs. Just as you thought that he was about to pound into you, Cassian sinks to his knees and settles your knees onto his shoulders.

You mentally paint the image in your head. Your mate, the lord of bloodshed’s face framed by your thighs, tying up his hair, about to slide into battle.

Well, more like about to slide his tongue all over you.

Cassian’s large, calloused hands slide under your butt cheeks and yank you closer to his face. His lips are so close that you can feel his breath on your sex, but you stay still, even though your instincts are screaming into your head to just buck your hips and rub yourself against his face. Sensing your impatience, Cassian chuckles a little, but quickly ends your suffering by licking your core on all its length. You want to throw your head back and let your eyes fall at the back of your head, but remember Cassian’s two simple rules.

Stay still, and keep your eyes on your mate.

Cassian’s smirk grows as he keeps taking his sweet time relishing your sex, his eyes gleaming with lust, pride, and adoration. You could almost see “good girl” written in the darkness of his widely dilated pupils. He picks up the pace of his tongue, flicking the bundle of nerves settled at the apex of your cunt occasionally. Your legs start to tremble as your orgasm grows closer. “Cass…” You whimper, and he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, pinning you tightly to the bed so you can stay still and let him do his job. He wraps his lips around your clit, and sucks it hard, releasing it with an audible pop as you come undone all over his face.

Predictable. He knows you, and your body, all too well.

Cassian’s hazel eyes never leave yours as your whole body quivers with spasms from your orgasm. It’s only once you slowly start to get back to your senses that he looks away from your eyes to peer down at the bow tie of your still closed nightgown. He flicks his thumb over his lip, sucking off all of the remnants of your juices, then raises to his feets. His fingers unties the silky fabric in one swift movement, and he’s very quick to remove it from you, revealing the taunting lingerie you’re wearing. He bites his lower lip and growls. “Mh… Princess…” His hands move up to cup your breasts, flicking his thumb over your perked nipples . “So fucking beautiful…” He moves his head down, to the side of your stomach, and bites down on your belly rolls.

Cassian makes sure to leave a path of hickeys as he makes his way up to your mouth, marking every place his lips have explored, and enjoyed. His face then lifts up, and he crashes his lips on yours. His fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck, and he pulls them back to tilt your head. You moan, and he takes that opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You slide your hands to grip onto his shoulders, then he pulls away, both of your breathless from the searing kiss. “See how good you taste? Do you understand why I’m addicted to it now, why I’m addicted to you?”

You grin shyly, but nod in confirmation. “Yes, I think I'm starting to understand…” You stroke his cheek, and kiss his lips lovingly. “Good… Now, get on your hands and knees, Y/N.” You shiver at the tone of his voice, but obey. You feel him moving behind you, then hear the flick of the bedside lamp. Underneath this light, even if the lightning was dull, Cassian could see all of you. You hear him pick up something, and walk around the bed before he appears in your field of vision.

With your vanity mirror that he settles on the wall facing you, exposing the reflection of your practically nude body, chest down and ass up.

“Look at you…” He says, walking back behind you, staring at your reflection in the mirror. And you can see it clearly now, the way he looks at you, as if you were some of those Day Court marble statues. You stare back at yourself in the mirror, looking at you.

And for the first time in a whole damn while, you really see yourself. Like he does. You feel…

“Ravishing,” Cassian praises, his fingers moving your underwear to the side. He didn’t want for one second to remove that breathtaking lingerie off of your magnificent curves. He presses his tip against your burning core, then bucks his hip to sheath in completely.

He tilts his head back as your inner walls squeeze around him perfectly, his fingers tightly gripping onto your hips. He forces his eyes back onto the mirror to stare at you, and he is delighted to see how your face, his mate’s face, twitches with pleasure, your eyes cock drunk at the feeling of being so full. “Cauldron Y/N, take what you need. Fuck yourself onto me, princess.”

You moan, his words making you unbearably hot and needy. You move your hips, thrusting yourself onto him as your soft inner walls needily clutch around his cock. Cassian throws his head back, his hand squeezing your ass in encouragement. “That’s it, make yourself feel good. Just like that, fuck…” Tears prickle your eyes as your hips roll against his, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, and you feel you can see in the mirror how your legs shake from your growing pleasure.

Cassian, sensing that your legs were about to give up, lifts you up to his chest. He wraps one arm around your shoulders, and his other hand reaches down to circle your sensitive button. “I'm so close..” You mumble, surprised to still be able to articulate anything through the ecstasy of the moment.

The general growls into your ear, biting down onto your neck as he picks up the speed. “Me too, gorgeous. Me too.”

You cry out his name as his dick keeps hitting that mind-blowing spot inside of you. His hand leaves your clit, and his still wet fingers hold your chin, forcing your eyes to stare at the obscene reflection of you two. “Eyes on you, on us. Look how good you look princess…” He traces his hand up your side, his eyes fixed on your reflection. “How perfect we fit…” Your eyes dart to where your sex meets, and you reach your orgasm at the sight, head falling onto Cassian's shoulder, eyes hardly keeping focus on the mirror. His thrust grows sloppy as he spills inside of you, a guttural moan leaving his lips as he comes.

Cassian lifts you into his arms, slowly pulling out of you, and places you down comfortably in the middle of the bed. He joins you back in bed seconds later, a damp rag in hand. His movements are loving, careful, as he cleans you up in a comfortable silence while you both try to catch your breath. He unclasps all of your lingerie, discarding it into the laundry basket, before lying down and pulling you up into his arms, your head resting on his chest.

His fingers trace soothing circles on your back, and before you fall asleep completely, he kisses the shell of your ear, and whispers in it softly. “We should go shopping so I can buy you more of these… Soon.” You smile lazily, all of your worries about if these kinds of garments were made for your body type almost vanished. “You look pretty in anything, my love.”

You giggle softly, lifting your eyes up to meet Cassian’s confused expression. “You have a weird way to teach life lessons.”

His hazel eyes twinkle with mischief as he tucks a sweaty strand of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Did it work, though? My little… lesson.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes, snuggling closer to his chest, his arms embracing you tightly. They make you feel secure, and so incredibly loved.

“Yeah yeah. It worked.”

And without any more words needed, you both fall asleep in the comfort of each other's arms.

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @mybestfriendmademe

[pit-and-the-pen]

The Art of You

Cassian x Reader

Synopsis: Cassian found recovery in the art that he created while preparing to apply to art school in New York, his greatest muse being his high-flying down-to-earth socialite girlfriend, you.

Warning; Fluff and modern

A/N: A little Cass fic dedicated to absolutely wonderfully kind and ever-lovely Cassian Queen @sarawritestories on her birthday. Happy (early) Birthday Friend Xx

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“YNN, can you just please stop fidgeting” 

“I’m so boreeeeeeeed Cass” You whined out, your voice echoing around Azriel and Rhysand’s apartment before you fixed your posture to sit straight once again on the stool. 

“Well, blame Az, it's not my fault someone ate my bowl of fruit” Azriel rolled his eyes from the dining room chair he rocked back and forth, chucking the core of an apple into a cerulean bowl. Cassian fired a piece of charcoal directly into his best friend's eye as he winked at him A howl left Azriel, immediately gaining a laugh from the both of you. Cassian quickly took a picture of his two best friends and their merriment.

“It'll be easier to draw from a reference who doesn't have the bladder of a Chihuahua” You glared playfully at his words and he took another picture.

“Well, I gotta go anyway Cass, my lovely Aunt will be wondering where I am” You slipped from the chair and into your jacket, Cassian's face sinking. 

“How will she react when she hears you’re in love with a starving artist and his soul-searching friends, ruining the image of a socialite” Azriel spoke playfully, trying to lighten the tension from you with having to return to your hectic household. 

“I didn’t know you had a soul Az” you teased, buttoning up your coat, ready to face the bone-chilling gales of New York in the Winter.

“Rhy’s dad bought him one” 

“Don’t be jealous Cass, you could have moved in with us but no, you chose the damp and rot of that hole you call home” Azriel laughed out to Cassian's toying, Cassian promptly firing more charcoal his way. 

“I’m sure she’d love if I social climbed my way to someone like Rhysand” “Ouch” Rhysand emerged from the bathroom, waist swaddled in a thick fluffy towel, still damp from his shower. You had met Rhysand many years ago through various social functions your Aunt and Uncle dragged you to. The both of you quickly form an alliance of mischief at the events to keep yourselves from boredom. Cassian and Azriel came into your life once Rhysand had finally moved home to New York bringing them along for the fun. Their friendship spanning countless years of Summer camps together from which you had heard such grand stories, you all quickly became fast friends shortly after their arrival. 

“Yeah tell her it's the heir to a fortune you’re in love with and not the unemployed artist, what both of your families have groomed you for for years” 

“Gross” both you and Rhysand replied in unison

“Az, I’m not unemployed, I’m retired from active military duty. I’m just on leave while I recover and they figure out what to do with me” Cassian rolled his eyes for the millionth time, gathering the creative supplies that had helped him through his toughest months since returning from his time in service. 

“Retired like an old man” He nudged you gently while you smirked at him. 

“If it’s just leave then why are you applying for art school here?” Rhysand shot from his bedroom door, a raised eyebrow.

“Because-because-” “-Because he’s great at it, Feyre is gonna try to get his art into the gallery she’s managing” “Ah nepotism” “Rhys, y’know what they say about those in glass houses” The group laughed towards the former military man as he reached your side smiling, forever happy you always knew what to say to defend him and his decisions. 

“Right kids, I gotta go” You pecked Cassian's cheek, your two other best friends groaning at the sight.

—---------------------------------------

The following night you found yourself waiting outside the rusting entrance to Cassian's apartment, many many many subway stops from where you, Rhysand and Azriel’s playground was. You wrapped your thick designer coat tighter around you fighting off the cold while waiting for Cassian to buzz you into his humble home. You subconsciously placed your car key between your fingers, ready to use it at any moment to defend yourself in the dilapidating area. The sound of the cage humming to release from its locks in front of you filled you instantly with relief, you pulled it to access the entrance to the block of apartments stairway. 

Cassian stole the cold away from you in his usual all-encompassing hug. He promptly took your coat for you as you sat down on the tattered couch. The apartment in its completeness was probably the size of Rhysand and Azriel’s sitting room alone. The oven could practically be reached from the couch but there was still room for Cassian's extensive video collection and a small table for two. Adjacent to the kitchen was the tiny bathroom and the entrance to his bedroom, the double bed nearly touching all four walls, a nest of cushioning you frequented. 

“Why don’t you ever use that closest?” You quizzed as Cassian draped your coat along the back of the dining room chair. Cassian stiffened for a moment before turning back to you with a shrug. 

“Emm that’s where I keep the dead bodies” you chuckled at him, he returned the smile. He dragged the second chair to land across from you where he sat and began to sketch, another one of your evenings to be spent with Cassian practising his portrait work. 

“Are you going to allow me to see this one?” “My love, you know that’s not how this operation works” You sighed, knowing you should have anticipated his reply, he never let you see any of the works where you were the subject. 

“How come I’ve never seen the inside of that closet?” you gestured with your chin to the door behind him. 

“How come I’ve never met your aunt and uncle? Hm? We’ve been together almost a year” “Touche-” You laughed “-they’re terrible people, Cass, they don’t deserve to meet you” “Even still, maybe Az is right and you should tell them it's Rhysand that keeps you away from them so much” “I’d rather swim up the Hudson in January” You smiled away at the growing sad tone in his voice, his smile growing across his face as he lowered his gaze back to the pad of paper, exhaling loudly in frustration. By 11 pm Cassian had gone through countless sheets of thick paper and abandoned all of the versions of you without allowing you so much as a glance. 

“Right, I need coffee” he stood, tossing the closed pad to the floor. 

“I’m gonna grab one of your sweatshirts, it's so cold in here” You could almost see Cassian's breath as he laughed at you. He made his way into the bathroom as you returned to the couch, wrapping the long sleeves in balls in your hand, attempting to trap what heat you could. 

“My love, can you throw me in a hand towel please” 

“Yeah where are they?” you called back to him through the closed door.

“In the closest by the- WAIT ACTUALLY I’LL GET IT MYSELF” His shouts came too slowly for you, the ounce of permission you had waited for for so long allowed you to finally pull the door of the hall closet open. Cassian dashed from the bathroom, his wet hand reaching for the door as you opened it but not quickly enough, a loud whoosh filled the apartment with sheets and sheets of paper, it tumbling out like a tsunami. Reams and reams of endless amounts of art washed over the two of you flooding the ground of the apartment. 

“Gods! You’re a hoarder! My boyfriend is a hoarder! I’m going to end up on the news after they dig us out of this!” You laughed lightly, Cassian stepping out of the almost ankle-high amount of his secret to stand between you and the door, your chests almost touching. 

“You don't need to see in there, it's all rough drafts of sketches that never came to be...it's all waste paper….” You raised an eyebrow before stepping back from him, looking down at the vast amount of sketches at your feet. Cassian dipped down quickly, attempting to pull back the drawings before you could properly examine them. It was too late, you had seen the vast amount of countless drawings, sketches, etches of you and your friends. Paint, chalk, pastels, pencil, watercolour, you name it and there were half finished creations everywhere.

“Are thes- are these me?” You just collected a random sample from your feet, Cassian seeming immediately ashamed taking them from you only to have you quickly replace them with others.

“They're not done...none of them are, I can't quite get you no matter what I do...you must think I'm crazy” You were almost too busy looking at the intricate details to hear him. You separated your eyes from the pages to focus on the walls of the closet. They too were covered with pages but also pictures. Pictures of you and your friends, you on your own, you and him. You traced your fingers across a few of them with Cassian’s eyes fixed on your every movement for any sign of negative expression. Instead you just seemed amazed at the sheer quantity and quality. You stepped around him to reach for a photo of the two of you, you both making goofy faces at the camera, a memory from your attempt to ride a tandem bike through Central Park. You laughed lightly at the photo, your hand tracing over your elbow beneath the fabric where the scar from the stitches after the fall from said bike still remained. 

“My love, please say something, I might be sick if you don't"

“I love them Cass, I mean you might want to try to draw a few objects for the portfolio as well as portraits but still, wow” you laughed, pulling the photo down from the wall, the bluetac taking some paint with it.

“This was a great day, trip to the ED aside...you should draw this”

“I don't know YNN, I've never done a self portrait and-”

“-Then I'll draw you and you can draw me? Please?” He couldn't say no to you, rolling his eyes before searching for materials.

“Are you sure you have paper?” You teased as he pushed the hoards of drawings back into their cage. 

“Shut up” he laughed in reply, retrieving a large fresh drawing pad of paper and pencils.

-

The two of you hovered over the shared piece of A2 paper sprawled across the width of the dining table, both quickly learning to draw around one another with impressive fluidity. Cassian stood behind you, one arm to support himself on one side of you, the other sketching alongside your hand. By 2 am the joint eclectic masterpiece of mixed personal styles was coming to fruition, both of you happy to spend the time together in the comfortable homily silence neither of you could find with anyone else other than one another.  

“Why don’t you draw more, my love?” the first time either of you had spoken since starting, his warm words sending electric shivers down the back of your neck.

“I don't really know, I guess I stopped liking the solitary aspect of it...I much prefer this” he agreed and you both continued at the masterpiece until it finally felt as whole as you made one another feel. You both stood back to admire the medley of lines, the drawing was not as perfect or susynced as if one artist had done it but it was yours and that made up for any mismatches in theme. 

“It’s perfect” “Just like one of the artists who made it” he beamed down to you as you folded yourself into his embrace, a tender kiss landing on the top of your head. 

“Art school isn’t ready for a talent like you” You reached to kiss him gently. 

“When I’m a famous artist, I’ll be worthy enough to meet your family” You groaned into his chest before pulling back again.

“Cass, you’re worthy of all of me now but they are not worthy of you. Once I’ve aged into the trust my parents left me they’re going to be so far gone from my world it won’t matter their opinion on anything in my life” “So their opinion matters in your life now?” you groan again before laughing at his grinning face. 

“If I’m lucky once they find out you’re a hoarder that’ll kill them off” You smirked down to the remaining few paper stragglers on the floor. Your eyes landed back on the masterpiece you had both created together. 

“To spend a lifetime trying to be worthy of you my love would be a lifetime well spent” 

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Whatcha think? (I think I could see a part two where Cassian gets to meet Readers infamous family?)

[pit-and-the-pen]

AS SHE DESERVES ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Creator Highlight - Week 10

Welcome to our Creator Highlight Week 10!

Every week, we’ll use this space to recognize the amazing individuals in our fandom who kindly use so much of their free time and creative energy to share their work with us and bring our imaginations to life via writing, art, visuals, and many other creative mediums. 

This week we want to highlight @milswrites, a massively talented creator for fic within the fandom. Are you a fan of x Reader fics? Because if so and you aren’t obsessing over @milswrites works, what are you doing?

Her stories have romance, intrigue, plot, and fluff, all while being imaginative, creative, and leaving a long-lasting emotional impact. Her nominators said the following: “She does some of the best imagery work! Every story is written with such care! I truly believe she is worth checking out and reading something that makes you come alive!” The second nominator doubled down on that by saying “Her fics truly bring to life character and reader fics in a way I didn’t know was possible. I never read those before i stumbled on her blog, and now I can’t get enough of them.” 

As evident from these submissions, she is also a one-of-a-kind creator, and her works really bring out a whole new side of these characters we’ve come to love. Thank you for sharing your works with us, and for adding such an engaging, creative, and lovely fics to the community and fandom space! Your contributions are always fantastic, and we hope to see much more from you for a long time to come!

Below are some of our favorite creations.

Trials of Aphrodite | Azriel x Reader

My Beautiful Girls | Cassian x SingleMom!Reader

At The End of the Night | Azriel x IllyrianFem! Reader

The Fox and the Hound | Eris x Reader

Wilted Love | Lucien Vanserra X Tamlin'sSister!Reader

Thanks so much for bringing such incredible, creative, and lovely works to our fandom! We’re so glad you’re here!

You can find more of @milswrites on her Masterlist!

[pit-and-the-pen]

reblog if you’d like one of these in your inbox

- ask me things you want to know about me

- why you follow me

- what’s on your mind/what you’re thinking about

- a compliment

- make me choose between two things

- ask for advice

- tell me a secret

- things you associate me with

- anything!!!!

[pit-and-the-pen]

Kiss - Don't Tell

Cassian/Azriel

Word Count - 2.8k

Summary - after a wild threesome months ago - Cas and Az get a little curious what things would be like without a third party involved.

Warnings - SMUT, m/m smut, mutual masturbation, cocks (no insertion), ass play, what do you want me to say? Its smut.

The night was still young, the sun barely losing the touch of color in the sky as Azriel dropped down onto the plush sofa in his chambers. The fire was already stoked to a steady, calming flicker as he settled comfortably into the cushions with a book, propping his legs onto the ottoman before him. It might have been early to be tucking in for the night, but Azriel was relishing in the quiet of the first night off he had had in months. 

The minutes ticked by in glorious silence but just as he had reached the cliffhanger of a chapter ending, the door to his bedroom swung open, not even a knock of warning. 

“I’m bored,” Cassian sighed as he flopped backwards onto Az’s bed. 

“Here,” Az uttered with irritation as he reached to the table beside him. “Read something. Expand your mind or something.”

Cas sat up and eyed the novel that was tossed onto the empty half of the furniture. Az hadn’t even bothered to look up as he flipped the page nonchalantly, returning to his book. 

“Don’t you have some enemy spy we can play with or something?,” Cas quipped as he meandered over to the sofa. He briefly peered over the shoulder before him, feigning interest in the book Az was reading. 

“They aren’t toys, Cas,” Azriel responded without a glance in his direction. “And I don’t play with them. I interrogate them.” Another casual flip of the page accentuated his words. 

“Yeah, but you have to admit, it's a little fun poking at them though.” Cassian mimicked holding a dagger in his hand as he rounded to sit on the sofa, jabbing in Azriel’s direction with a smirk.

Again, Az’s attention was unwavering. His eyes continued to scan the page as he ignored Cas’s attempts to derail his relaxing evening. Flopping down now on the sofa, Cassian grabbed the book left out for him. Lounging back with a foot landing on Az’s lap, he fluttered through the pages without any actual attempt to take in the book’s contents before slamming the cover shut with a snap. Still no reaction from the other end of the seat, Cassian sighed heavily.

“Have you ever thought about….no, nevermind,” Cassian said as he slid his arm under his head. 

“What?,” Az asked, still reading.

“Remember that night a few months ago?,” Cas began. “After Rita’s? When we brought that cute little redhead home with us?”

Now he had Az’s attention. Lowering his book, he peered over with a curious gaze. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Well, you know. She was kinda wild wasn’t she?” Cas winked with a smile. “It got a little wilder than our other threesomes, remember?”

Az took a moment, reflecting. He remembered that night well, very well. The cute little redhead had been nearly frothing at the mouth at the idea of bedding two Illyrians at once. And they had been more than happy to oblige. Once things had started heating up, it had become clear that it wasn’t just the idea of two males fawning over her that brought her pleasure, but the idea of two males in general. With or without her. She had asked them to take turns watching as the other pleasured her, but she seemed more enamored with watching the third palming his own cock at the show than the one between her legs. Before the night was over, she had them all tightly pressed together, tongues clashing for hers. Their cocks held tightly in her hands, pressed side by side.

“Yeah, and…,” Az drew out in response as the details of the memory lingered.

“Well,” Cas drew out the word in similar fashion as he rose to sitting. “Have you ever thought about – I don’t know. Kissing? Like – you and me?”

Az reeled back for a fraction of a second in shock before steeling his face into impassivity. “Um, what?,” his voice piped out in a squeak despite his impartial face. 

“I don’t know – it’s just,” Cas stammered, running a hand through his hair to release some tension. “After that night, I mean – I kinda got a little curious. You’re telling me you haven’t thought about it at all?”

Azriel’s body was deadly still, every muscle matching the ones in his face holding that impassive stare. The silence held as Cas sat just as still, gauging the body language across from him before throwing up his hands.

“Forget it. Forget I ev–”

“I’ve thought about it,” Az interjected quietly. “All the time.” Those last three words left his lips in a whisper, his face unchanged. 

It was Cassian’s turn to stop, motionless. His body felt like a live wire inside but every inch of him remained wholly still. Their eyes locked across the distance between them, breaths shallow and quick. Suddenly, they were both moving. It was impossible to tell who moved first, but it hardly mattered. 

In a frenzy of arms, they met in the middle of the sofa, lips crashing together, hands grasping at shoulders and tangling in hair. Lips sliding smoothly over each other, their tongues lashed against one another, deeper into the recesses of each other’s mouths. 

Cas pulled back for just a moment, long enough to nip a teasing bite to Az’s bottom lip. The resounding moan that sounded from his chest had him returning with intensity, hand gripping at Az’s neck to press him closer. 

His scarred hands grazed lower, trailing down Cassian’s back before landing roughly at his waist. A bruising squeeze of his fingers left Cas gasping a sharp inhale before shifting his leg. Pulling his knee to the other side of Az’s hip, he settled again, practically sitting in Az’s lap. 

Lips crashing together once more, the breath exchanged between them had reached a fever pitch, quick and panting, swallowed into one another. One of Azriel’s hands began wandering once more as Cas’s own gripped along his firm back. Slipping further, Az’s textured palm met one tight ass cheek, his thumb tracing soothing circles. 

The sensation left Cas’s muscles moving of their own accord as his hips bucked gently against the body in front of him. Pulling back for just a moment, he drank in a breath trying to calm his racing heart. The effort was futile however as Cassian dove back in, this time latching onto the side of Azriel’s glistening neck.

With a groan, Az clenched his hand along Cas’s backside, the other pulling roughly at the roots of his hair. Sliding his palm along his hip, he reached for the laces along the front of Cas’s pants while his other arm clutched Cas’s head deeper into his neck. 

Another involuntary twitch cascaded through his hips as he bucked into Az’s front. “Fuck…,” he moaned into the soft tattooed skin of his neck before pulling away..

Azriel’s hand dropped instantly to Cas’s shoulder, the other resting against his thigh. 

“Az –,” Cas panted out, questioning.

Everything stopped. The kissing, the licking, the breathing. Only the sound of the fire still crackling sounded as they sat pressed together, staring intensely at each other. Two sets of hazel eyes roamed over the other’s face, scanning for what their next move should be. 

The moment was broken as Az gave a testing swipe of his thumb over the laces and Cassian inhaled sharply. “Az.,” Cas’s voice sighed, not a question but a plea.

“Shut up,” Az whispered as he dove back in to kiss him, his hand returning in a flurry to the laces. Both of them lost in the moment, Cas didn’t even notice the sheet of shadow that enveloped them until his body met the mattress. 

Laid out on his side, Cas didn’t even pause. Az quickly propped himself up on one elbow, leaning into the hurried clashing of tongues once more as the laces finally fell open. Cas was now the one reaching at Az’s front. Shifting closer, Az shimmied his hips to allow him better access as he freed Cas’ cock from its confines. 

Cassian whined as a hand wrapped fully around his aching length, his own hands still fumbling at the pants before him. Frustration and elation flooded through him as his tongue darted out, licking a quick swipe to Az’s chest before landing a bite to his pec. 

A growl rumbled through the chest beneath his lips as Az lowered his other hand and offered assistance in freeing his own cock. As the twitching length broke free, Cas pulled away, breaking the hold that Az’s lips had on his throat.

He paused, enamored. Not because he had never beheld the sight before him before now, but because this time, he would get to touch. Fingers trembling, Cas dragged his fingertips feather-light up the soft shaft. 

Azriel hissed a breath in through his teeth, cock twitching harder. Reaching the tip, Cas wrapped his own wide palm around it with a squeeze. Az moaned loudly before rolling his head forward and biting down on the bulging muscle of Cas’s shoulder. 

Both of them aching in each other’s hand, their movements began to match. Slow, languid strokes to the other’s cock as they panted into each other’s bodies. Tongues trailing along skin, teeth nipping at every squeeze. 

The tension building between them was too much to bear and Az pawed at Cassian’s hip, pulling him roughly to the front of his body. Their grasps dropped as both of their cocks lined up together, side by side. The heat radiating between them felt almost electric.

Watching the movement of his own hand, gaze full of the sight before him, Cassian opened his hand wide, grabbing both of their lengths together and pulling one testing stroke. Lowering his forehead to Az’s chest he moaned, from the depths of his belly as Az released a choking sound into his ear. The need to move, kiss, bite – anything – raged through him. His hips bucked into Cas’s grasp as his mouth found purchase on the weathered skin of his neck. The nip he landed sure to leave a bruise tomorrow.

Cas’s strokes didn’t waver even as the sting of the bite hit. His hand continued, picking up the pace slowly as beads of precum now leaked down between their rigid cocks. His tongue tracing along every bit of available skin, Az moved his hand to Cas’s ass once more. Grasping and grabbing, fingertips dancing along the split of his backside. 

Releasing a ragged moan at a particularly rough stroke, the shadows swirled around their joined members, grabbing Cas’s wrist at Az’s direction and halting his movements. Before a protest could be uttered, Az pulled at his hip with surprising strength and had him rolled onto his belly. 

No thoughts stopped him. Moving on instinct, Cas pulled his knees under himself, raising his backside toward the male behind him. Just as he has his body planted firmly, a knee slid between his own, knocking them further apart. He can’t help but chuckle a bit to himself thinking about if this is how his dates feel when he brings them home to bed.

“What’s so funny?,” Az questioned as he took his cock in hand, fingertips gathering the rivulets of shared fluids and slicking them down his shaft. 

“Nothing,” Cas chuckled again. The searing heat of Az’s cock settling between his spread cheeks took his breath away with a guttural moan. “Nothing at all,” he whispered, dropping his head into the pillow before him.

The pace began unhurried, but quickly picked up into the quickness of need. Cas’s knees slipped further apart as he attempted desperately to find some sort of friction, his cock twitching at every thrust at his backside. Firm hands landed loudly on the globes of his ass as Azriel pushed them together, creating more friction along his shaft. The twitching of his cock became more of a painful jump and Cassian lowered his head, peering under his body to watch. The hard aching length of himself, red and impossibly swollen, a steady drip of precum leaked onto the bed below him. Every pump of the male behind him had it throbbing with need. 

The desperation for some friction raged through him, but before he could shift a hand free, Az leaned down over him, mindful of his wings. Like he could read his mind, he reached around and repeated the motion from before. Fingers slicking through Cas’ fluids, he pulled a stroke down his full length, coating him. The strength of each pull, the twist over the tip, Cas was a mess. Arms shaking, face pressed into the pillow again, he screamed as he arched his back deeper into Az. 

The thrusts started to stutter before slowing nearly to a halt, Az panting hard. With the push of his free hand against the bow of Cas’ back, he sat up into a kneel. 

“Should – should I –,” he stuttered.

Pushing up on his forearms, Cas looked back over his shoulder to find Az palming his cock. Slow and measured as their eyes met. 

“Let me,” Cas rasped out, voice broken from his earlier screaming. “I wanna see those eyes, pretty boy”

Azriel’s hand on his cock halted, still grasping. “Fuck. Cas, can you be serious for once.”

“What? I am serious,” he said with a genuine smile as he turned to face him. “You are pretty.” Both in a kneel facing each other, Cas knocked Az’s knees wider and placed his body into his lap, one leg hooking over his hip. “And I do want to see those eyes,” he whispered softly.

Their cocks touching once more, lined up side by side, Cas gave one rolling thrust into the hard plane of Az’s stomach. Az’s hand opened, releasing his own cock to now encompass them both. The grip that surrounded them had Cas thrusting harder a couple more times before he too reached down, palm opposite the other and joined the grasp.

Squeezing together in tandem, both males thrust into each other, tips trailing along the lines of defined muscle that grace their bodies.

“Fuck,” Az moaned leaning into the shoulder in front of him. “Cassian.”

Cas felt his cock trying to twitch but the hands around them both prevented the movement, he could feel each beat of Az’s heart in his palm as he applied even more pressure, both of them still thrusting.

“That’s it,” Cas whined.

Feeling the grip tighten, Az responded in kind leaving Cas gasping out a moan that sounded more like a sob. 

“That’s it,” he wailed, lowering his head onto Az’s chest, watching a trickle of cum beginning to crest over his tip. Thrusting harder now, he watched as that trail became smeared over Azriel’s abs and lost all his control. With a crying shout, Cas came. Thick white streams shot onto the defined abs of Az’s stomach.

The heat of Cas’ release meeting his skin was Az’s undoing. Just as Cas’ gaze swiveled up to meet his, hazel eyes so similar to his own, Az followed behind him. Cocks still gripped tightly together, Cassian’s hand was still moving in time with his, a guttural roar left his body as his release painted over Cas’ front. 

His cock had already begun to soften some, but the feeling of Az’s come landing on his body had his entire body jerking with the pulse of his cock filling with blood once more. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat as it roared in his ears, Az’s forehead meeting his shoulder. 

Both their hands now fell from their cocks, scrabbling for purchase on the body before them. Hands grasping at shoulders and tangled in hair as they caught their racing breath. 

The next morning came quicker than it felt it should have. Three Illyrians had trudged into the clearing outside the bounds of Velaris at Rhys’ insistence that they gather before the sunrise. The sun now hung well above the horizon and the heat beat down strongly on the two still grappling in the makeshift ring.

Rhys stood off to the side, drinking his fill of water after taking on both Cassian and Az individually once already. He watched as the punches landed seemed harder than usual, the dodges more swift and the retaliation more brutal. He just laughed to himself as he watched them spar with a renewed vigor even after multiple rounds this morning.

“You two should just kiss already and get it over with,” he shouted across the clearing. “Save us all some time.”

Cassian’s laugh rang loudly in response as he smirked at Az, still in defense posture across from him, fists raised. 

“Hear that Az?,” he asked in a low drone. “We should just kiss.”

Az’s glower deepened. “Shut up,” he snapped before taking him down in a tackle to the hips and pinning him to the ground.

[pit-and-the-pen]

THIS IS SO STINKING CUTE

It’s all in my head but I want nonfiction

Pairing: Lucien x reader | WC: 3.7k | warnings: suggestive language, groping

Summary: emboldened by an accidental love potion, you speak your crush on the Day Court heir to him

Author’s note: happy (late) birthday @tsunami-of-tears no one loves a love potion as much as we do 🫶🏻 lowkey hate this ending but whatever it is what it is ❣️

The Day Court Palace was, in your opinion, the prettiest place in all of Prythian. Large archways led the way to wide open rooms, beautiful columns stretching towards the mural painted ceilings. Every room had a skylight, even rooms with floors above them. Moving through the rooms felt like you were on a cloud traveling through the sky, a chariot pulling the sun through its cycle.

Everything looked so beautiful in the sunlight, and you felt like a reptile lounging in the sun whenever you were in the heir’s proximity. You had hardly spoken to him - he was your High Lord’s son and you were just a librarian in the ‘botany and related subjects’ library, however you had seen him on the rare occasions you had been in the palace, and more recently, whenever the redheaded heir made his presence known with his barking laughter through the shelves.

How you dreamed of making him laugh.

As if the Mother were listening directly to your thoughts as you shelved books away, you turned to find him standing next to you, the suddenness of his presence causing you to almost fall from your ladder. His hands shot out, one steadying the ladder, the other steadying your back. You weren’t sure if the heat on your cheeks was from being startled or from the heat on his hands.

Once he deemed you steady, he held out a hand for you, helping you down the ladder. You moved down it before you stepped off the last rung, face looking down to help stabilize your footing.

You looked up, finding you were much closer than you intended to be, your body a few inches from his body. From afar, he was beautiful, but being this close to him - he was gorgeous. His long red hair looked as if it were glowing, and all you wanted was to reach out and run your fingers through it before braiding it. His canines peaked out from his lips, a small smile on his face. His face was the perfect combination of sharp and soft - making him both stunning, but giving him a kind appearance.

You had watched him slowly get used to Day Court attire, incorporating different aspects over time. He began slowly with wearing more loose, billowy clothing, golden rings on his dark skin. Now he stood before you in a white braided toga that left his legs on full display, golden strapped sandals adorning his feet. Golden cuffs adorned his biceps, making the muscle even more worthy of your gaze.

“Hi, Lucien.” You nodded slightly with your head, the customary greeting in Day for nobility. Helion preferred more subtle ways of respect, once telling you, “I prefer if I’m going to be worshiped to be worshiped properly”. You extended the greeting to Lucien, and to your surprise, he returned the small bow back.

“May I be of any assistance?”

He peered down at you, his russet eye roamed over you, the golden one clicking taking you in. You swore the whirring picked up in speed as it roamed your body, your temperature rising a few degrees at the attention.

“Yes, you may. I actually was wondering about your knowledge on teas. It is a fascinating subject, is it not?”

Your face couldn’t contain your shock at his question. Teas? Why tea?

“Well, I quite enjoy various teas and different court traditions around tea.”

You eyed him, his nonchalant demeanor giving nothing away. The High Lord’s son wanted to talk to you… about tea?

You blinked and suddenly you had spent over half an hour blubbering about what kinds of teas are popular in which court, and you came back to your body to find yourself telling him about the Autumn Court’s tradition of spiking their tea with whiskey.

“Naturally, you might know about that. Not because of the alcohol, surely you don’t have a problem or anything like that, but you’re from Autumn, so surely you know about their traditions and such.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, but you couldn’t stop talking, your mouth incapable of offering you reprieve from how poorly you’ve handled this. “I’m sure you drank a lot of tea in Autumn. Not just the spiked kind, or maybe that’s how you were able to get by all those years - through alcohol.”

Your cheeks were blazing with heat, your bottom lip caught in your teeth, eyes stuck on the floor in hopes it would open a hole in the ground for you to fall through. “Um, my friend- colleague over there needs me. So um, good day, Lucien.”

You bowed quickly to him as you ran past him, not allowing time for him to bid you farewell. You spent the next few hours flitting about the library, recataloging academic texts on botanical reference guides in an attempt to stop your mind from replaying the atrocious conversation you had had with Lucien just hours prior. Each time you remembered it, you lightly hit your head against the shelves.

A few hours of mind numbing work later, your mind still possessed with thoughts of the redhead, you eventually were able to go home, spending most of the evening in your bath reading, any attempt at getting the redhead off your mind failing.

Your mind was just as preoccupied with Lucien as you walked into the library the next morning, taking the final sip of your coffee as you passed by the circulation desk, when a note on the counter piqued your interest. The note sat next to a cup of tea, the drink steaming in invitation. The envelope had your name on it with the royal seal on the back of the envelope. You opened it, careful not to destroy the beautiful seal. Neat handwriting in red ink covered the parchment in a simple note that left your heart fluttering.

After our discussions yesterday, I had some unresolved curiosities. Can you meet me in the courtyard behind your library this afternoon?

- Lucien

Your eyes danced across the note, reading and rereading it to make sure you hadn’t imagined it. He wanted to speak to you again? Despite your terrible attempts at conversation previously, he didn’t find your company appalling enough to talk to someone else in your stead.

You sipped the tea as you read the note - the warmth trailed down your throat, your stomach buzzing as you took in the bergamot flavor. You tried to figure out what tea this could possibly be, perhaps Lucien found a new flavor of tea he wanted you to try.

You smiled, tucking the note into your pocket as you spent the rest of the afternoon floating on the air around you, unbelieving of your luck. As the day went on, your head grew a subsistent ache, worsening by the hour until you were set to leave to meet with Lucien. Your head was pounding beneath the lights, but you wished one of the other librarians, Sara, a good evening, telling her you had a meeting. She giggled as you retreated away, her voice soft through the stacks, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

You rolled your eyes, throwing behind you, “sure, because what wouldn’t you do if Helion asked?”

You laughed at her squeaked response, but continued down the hallways and down the stairs, having to lean against the wall to steady yourself on occasion. You took deep breaths, trying to silence both the dizziness and the butterflies in your stomach. Once you were close enough to smell Lucien, the leather and bergamot scent filling your nose, the pounding in your head lessened with each step closer, instead your body grew warmer and warmer at his proximity.

You stopped at the sight of him, his back to you allowing you a moment to ogle unnoticed. He wore trousers today, slight disappointment at his legs being covered quickly corrected by how plump his ass looked in them.

Your tongue was fat in your mouth, and your thoughts stumbled through your mind in a drunken haze.

“You’re s’pretty.”

The words rolled off your tongue, a drunken slur to them. Were they your thoughts? Did you say them out loud? You couldn’t tell as you approached him, trepidation in your steps. You watched him turn to greet you, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Is that so?”

You were slow to react, your hand just now reached up to cover your mouth as if it could take the words back, your eyes wide as you looked at him. It was then that he took you in, his eyes roaming up and down your body, assessing if he could see anything wrong.

“Is everything alright? You’re swaying.”

Your cheeks heated at his concern, some tiny part of your brain chastising you for being so responsive to the bare minimum. You nodded, your hand still over your mouth. His arms stretched out on both sides of you, hovering around you to catch you.

“S’okay, you just make me feel good.”

Your words came out mumbled through your hands before Lucien gently pulled them from your face.

“Sthanks, I wouldn’t have gotten them off myself.”

Your words were drawn out, each syllable taking its time to be heard. His face grew more concerned, but you paid it no mind.

“You wanted to see me?” You had tried pointing to him and yourself respectively, however your motions were flipped, pointing at yourself and then towards him. You giggled as if you were a schoolgirl speaking to your friends. His sharp canines peaked beneath his top lip, his smile wide but predatory.

He nodded his head, “yes I wanted to speak with you some more, but now I’m-”

His words were cut off as you moved forward, hands producing a tight grip on his jaw. “I like your pointy teeth, they look like they could bite me.”

He smiled as you inspected his mouth, relishing in the squeal of delight you let out when he moved his lower jaw, allowing the tips of his canines to be seen. You tried pulling his lips down even more, but his hands grasped yours, placing them gently on his chest. He held your hands over his heart, looking into your face, his voice soft, “what happened today?”

You got lost in his eyes, getting lost in thought about the prosthetic one. Something in the back of your head kept yelling at you that it sees lies. “Well, I um,” a hiccup sounded from your throat, disrupting your train of thought momentarily. “I woke up, I walked by that coffee shop I like, got a cup to go. Then I continued walking to work - here - and then I got here. Well, not here, here,” you gestured around the room, “but over there,” now you pointed in the direction of the library.

“And then I got your note and I read it lots of times and I even checked the signature because surely you wouldn’t want to be subjected to my rambling again and then I drank the tea you dropped off with it and then I thought about the note while I restocked-”

He shook you lightly, one of his hands cupping your face. The action startled you, not having heard him calling your name. “Sunflower, what was this tea I dropped off?”

Your face lit up, remembering the way it felt going down your throat. “It was so good. You have great taste in tea.” You nuzzled your face into his hand, nodding profusely. “It did make me dizzy, though.”

You couldn’t for the life of you get your eyes to focus on him, the male before you appearing more like an impression of himself. His red hair and golden prosthetic were the only things you could really make out, and even then it was mostly colors.

He studied you for a moment, leaning in closely to examine your face. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

His hands supported your shoulders as you leaned into his chest, the two of you making a slow walk through the streets of Day. If you were in your right mind, you would be absolutely mortified at the way you were snuggling your face into his chest, obscene moans coming from you as you inhaled his scent.

“At least buy me dinner first, I am no common whore.”

Your laugh was delayed as you moved to be directly in front of him, your arms wrapped around his slim waist.

“Y’smell good.” Your words were muffled through his shirt, but the vibrations from his laugh extended to you, making your body shiver.

“I think your moans were more than enough proof of that. I was getting concerned you might get off on my scent alone.”

You giggled, not really understanding what he said, but enjoying the amusement in his voice. “I’ve had my fun, let’s move at a regular pace, shall we?”

You squealed as he picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. Your hands moved to his trousers, grabbing the fabric to help stabilize you. You pushed your elbows into his back, trying to lean up a bit.

“Where are we going?”

Your hands moved around his back, trying to find stability when your hands sink into the skin of his ass. You giggled as you pinched him, causing his steps to falter briefly.

“Getting a little handsy back there, are you?”

You answered with some giggles and squeezing him, only causing him to laugh again.

Lucien carried you to the outside of the library before winnowing you into the palace. You babbled from behind him as he strolled through the halls. You had given up trying to see your surroundings, leaning your head into the middle of his back. The white and gold marbled floors moved beneath the two of you, Lucien only butting into your rambling occasionally.

He expertly moved the two of you through the hallways, going deeper into the palace than you had ever been before when Lucien pushed open a door, leading the two of you inside. He slid you down from his shoulder, flopping you onto the bed. You landed in a massive bed, swimming in a lake of a deep brown duvet.

You giggled as you bounced across the bed, “Lucien, at least take a female out to dinner before you bed her.”

He stood before you, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I have to go speak with someone, will you stay here? Can I trust you?”

You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing a little in excitement. His hands came down onto your shoulders, causing you to stop your movements. “I won’t be long, I’ll come back with food.”

He ran a hand over your hair before walking away, disappearing through the door. You laid down on the bed, stretching your limbs out as you basked in Lucien’s scent.

Being in his room, surrounded by his scent for the thirty minutes he was gone did something to you, sending you into a state of utter euphoria that caused the rest of the night to go by in an utter blur.

-

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. It was too bright, the sun was too much, your head was killing you. The door opened and you instinctively pulled the duvet up to your shoulders to cover yourself. Lucien’s head popped through the door, carrying a box of some kind with two steaming mugs on top of it. He set them down on the nightstand next to the bed, crawling on top of the duvet covers next to you.

You eyed him curiously, clutching the duvet tighter. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? This is my bed.”

You moved your head around the room, finally realizing that it was not your own. Your eyes moved about the space, taking in how odd it looked. It was an array of colors - the brown duvet, the green curtains, the red tapestry on the wall. Next to the tapestry hung several maps of Prythian, including markers filling certain areas. You moved closer, attempting to crawl off the bed, but your legs got caught in the sheets, causing you to slump back onto the bed.

Lucien laughed, causing your head to throb again.

“Why am I in your bed?”

“Do you not remember?” You shook your head, the action making you dizzy. You opened your eyes just slightly, scowling at the amused look on his face.

“The healer said you had had a love potion. After some questions, we found out one of the other librarians was trying something new with her husband and left the potion to cool. It seems she left it to steep it for too long, and it was less arousing and more drunken.”

You nodded, looking to the floor, feeling so small in his bed. Thank the Mother you weren’t rubbing against Lucien as if you were in heat.

Your eyes widened, remembering how you did rub up against him, clinging to his body the whole night. Lucien’s voice picked up a lilt to it, his amusement growing as last night came back to you in bits and pieces as he spoke.

“I brought you food because you refused to eat last night. I was only able to get a small piece of cake in you. You are quite afraid of being poisoned.”

A brief memory flooded your brain, making you feel even worse.

Lucien stretched his arm out, offering the piece of cake to you. “Will you please eat something? It would make me feel better.”

You shook your head furiously, making yourself slightly dizzy. “You’re trying to- to tie me to you. The food’s been-” a hiccup broke up your words, “poisoned for me to fall madly in love with you and spend my days gazing about your pretty face.”

He raised his hands, glancing around the room before his eyes settled next to him. “Fine, I poisoned it. But this chalice,” he raised a glass, sloshing the liquid around, “is also the antidote to this yummy cake.”

He held a bit of the piece out on his fingers, waving it in front of your face before you took the piece into your mouth, licking his fingers as you did.

Your face heated as you remembered that was how he fed you the rest of the cake. You slipped under the cover even more, hiding your face. “Excuse me, I have to.. die.”

His laugh was loud in the room, and you felt his body weight shift on the bed. “I would prefer if you could die elsewhere other than my bed. I am quite fond of it and I worry you may haunt the room.”

He laughed, poking your side. “Don’t worry, sunflower. You were incredibly endearing all night, even when your hands were a bit.. Adventurous.”

You shot up, the duvet coming off you as you looked at him. “Adventurous how?”

“Well, at one point you insisted you could only sleep if you could be touching my ass.”

You moved to get out of the bed, “that’s it, does this room have a balcony I can fling myself from?”

He reached out, grabbing your wrist stopping you, pulling you back into him.

“Would you really be so dramatic? I didn’t even mention the biting.”

“The biting?” You screamed out before putting a hand up, “no, don’t tell me. I can only find solace in death now.”

“You have quite the powerful bite.”

“Lucien, stop.”

“I have a chunk missing from one of my legs.”

“Lucien.”

He gazed about the room, his finger on his chin as if in contemplation as he leaned back against the headboard. “I suppose it’ll match the prosthetic eye. Perhaps I could have another eye placed there…”

“Is my mortification amusing you?”

“Greatly.”

You slumped back onto the bed, rolling over to hide your face in the duvet. You could hear Lucien nibbling on something before saying, “I am quite flattered at how pretty you find me.”

“I hear Winter’s great this time of year. Perhaps I’ll trek the continent for a beautiful lake to drown myself in.”

“Are you always this dramatic when you wake up? I’d like to be aware for future endeavors.”

You sat up quickly, situating yourself to look at him, your legs tucked beneath you.

“What future endeavors?”

“Well, if I have any luck, this won’t be the last time you slept in my bed.” He bit off another piece of cake, paying no mind to the short-circuiting happening in your brain. “Unless you’d prefer your bed. However, last night you proposed marriage to my bed, so…”

He trailed off, but you were stuck, mind reeling with his words.

“Why would I sleep in your bed?”

“Has no one told you?” He smirked at your quizical look, his tone growing serious as he said, “when two people are attracted to each other-”

His sentence was cut off by the pillow colliding with his face. “That’s not the part I was confused about.”

He cleared his throat, dusting away any crumbs before turning toward you, his gaze focused solely on you as he said, “I thought I made it fairly clear I wanted to speak to you because I found you beautiful and I have always had a thing for librarians.”

You blinked at him. “I thought you were merely interested in tea.”

“I don’t even drink tea. Can’t stand it. You happened to be in the tea section when I found you.”

As if your brain shut down at the information, you just looked at him, brain clearly still foggy from the potion you drank.

“Then why were you-”

You thought towards occasional bits of that discussion, how he had spoken more than you remembered, his words teasing. “Were you flirting with me?”

“That was my intention, however you hardly stopped for breath when discussing tea. I was so caught up, I had to run off to meet with an advisor in the nick of time.”

“Are you flirting with me now?”

“If I were flirting with you, surely you would know. Perhaps I’ll warn you in advance next time, so you can prepare yourself.”

He stared out the window, his eyes bright in the morning sunlight. “May I flirt with you in a moment’s time, or will you merely attempt to curl up and die again? Perhaps you’d prefer official correspondence with my flirtatious intentions?”

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Thanks for reading ❣️

[pit-and-the-pen]

Birthday Present

Birthday fic for @sarawritestories.

Summary: Cassian was gone during your birthday and shows up while you’re at work to make up for it. 

Warnings: Smut (18+), P in v, Oral (f/m receiving), spit, collars/leash, fingering. 

WC: 4.1k

This was probably the longest you had been separated from Cassian since the mating bond had snapped. You weren’t mad per say but you missed your mate like crazy. Not to mention that he had missed your birthday three days ago. You knew that he had wanted to be there, he made sure to top the previous year's celebration every time. And he always managed to deliver. Somehow after being mated for more than fifty years, he had never disappointed. But this year he was helping finally start to train the females in Windhaven. Something that you knew he had been fighting for for so long, how could you be mad at him for being there when that’s what was keeping him away.

Your birthday party was amazing nonetheless. Cassian had left detailed instructions for Nesta and Gwen as to how the party would go. He made sure to order your favorite foods well in advance, even having your present delivered first thing in the morning along with a bouquet of pink and white roses that was so large it took two people to deliver it. It filled the house with the scent of roses. The smell almost makes up for the lack of your favorite smell in the whole world, that citrus and salt smell that always seemed to accompany Cassian. The other part of your gift was a ruby choker with a piece of his siphon carved into the same shape as the diamond on your wedding band. You had nearly cried when you opened the box and had sent the image of you wearing it to your mate and the satisfied rush of lust you received back only proved how much he liked it too. You wish he had been there when you opened it, wish you could have shown him just how much you appreciated the piece of him that you now wore around your neck. Everyone already damn well knew who your mate was but the weight of it around your neck served as a warm reminder for you. 

You rolled out of bed when your alarm went off, your mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in it. Nesta, Gwen and Elain had made sure that you properly celebrated your birthday last night. The empty bottles of wine and some clear liquor you didn't bother asking the name of proved as much. You gulped down the glass of water you had the sense to place out the night before and began to get dressed for the day. 

You picked one of your favorite skirts. Long by fae standards, nearly brushing your calf. A swirling floral pattern offset the dark green of the background. You tucked in the long sleeved cream sweater and gave a small twirl in the mirror, watching the way the skirt fanned out around you as you did so. Your hair was quickly thrown into a high ponytail and you made sure to pull the necklace out from the high neck of the sweater. The charm just visible. 

Quickly grabbing a slice of toast and some left over fruit from last night, you grabbed your bag and walked out the door. The slight chill in the morning air made you thankful for the sweater but you knew by the time the sun rose you would be sweating. The sound of your shoes hitting the cobblestoned street was the only sound that filled the air. You loved these quiet moments in the early morning. It gave you time to really soak in the beauty of Velaris. The way the rainbow street near your little shop shone in the faint rays of sunlight. The way the city itself seemed to hum with the sleeping breaths of its inhabitants. It was one of your favorite times to be out. You fished around in your bag for the ring of keys to unlock the store and stood in the doorway as you waited for the flights to kick on.

 You loved the shop with all of your heart. It had been a mating present from Rhys. Your very own book store. The dark wood and dim lights made it seem so cozy. Cozy chairs and booths would be  full of readers or writers thanks to the little cafe you had thought to add. Plus it had some of the best pastries in all of Velrais, so you’ve been told. 

You switched the books on display for the day, putting your most recent read on the table next to a few new releases you had just gotten at the end of the day yesterday. Swirling letters were drawn on the sign next to them along with a small doddle to tell a little bit about the book and then you were ready to open the store, flipping the small “open” sign that Feyre had painted for you. You pulled the book you started last night out of your bag and sat down as you waited for people to start coming in.

The day seemed to drag by. It was relatively slow, only a few people coming in and out throughout the day. A few of your regulars sat in the cafe area, the soft sound of pens on paper and book pages turning became a gentle white noise that was starting to make your eyes heavy. You decided to get up to do something so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

You sighed heavily as you stacked another book on the shelf, rearranging the shop for the third time that month. You really did miss Cassian. The store seemed just a little too empty without him. He would always stop by to bring you lunch because he knows that you get so caught up in whatever task you were doing that day that you would forget otherwise. Sometimes he would just spend hours at the small high top table yapping away at whatever crossed his mind and you would have a smile on your face for the rest of the day. 

Eventually the last of the customers packed up, calling their goodbyes as they walked out of the door.  You sent your one cafe worker, Flora home for the day when they left. The sun was still high in the sky but you just wanted to be home. Cassian would be home later today and you wanted the time to clean up a little bit. Maybe make dinner after taking a nap. So you kept staking books, telling yourself you would leave once you emptied the cart next to the front counter. Too caught up to hear the front bell of the shop ring, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat. You cursed softly to yourself, you must have forgotten to lock the door. 

“Sorry we’re closed-” You turned around and a squeal left your mouth as you took in just exactly who was standing in the shop. Of course it was Cassian. His smell quickly flooded your senses and you put down the heavy book in your hand to launch yourself at him. You arms wrapped around his neck at the same time his arms wound around your waist. You buried your face into his chest as he squeezed you tighter against him. 

“You weren’t supposed to get home until later. I would have closed up earlier if I had known.” You smiled up at him, basking in his presence.. 

“I wanted to get home to you, darling. Maybe even surprise you.” He leaned down to give you a teasing kiss. “Gods I missed you” He said once he pulled away from your lips. You wanted to pout at the loss of his plush lips against yours. Suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you haven't seen him in over a week. Your cheeks started to heat as you looked into his eyes, saw that he was clearly thinking the same thing. You were just about to tell him to take you home when he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I locked the front door.” His words only stoked the fire in your stomach. His gravelly voice telling you exactly what he meant. And at that moment, you wouldn’t have cared if he had. All thoughts eddied out of your head except for the feeling of your mates skin against yours. He gave a slow kiss to the spot below your ear and a shiver ran through you. His hands go up to play with the necklace sitting just above your shirt. 

“I want to see you in this.” He gave it a slight tug, pulling your chin up with it. “Only this.” You whimpered as he forced you to look him in the eye. Fidgeting under his heated stare. “But that can wait until later. For now…” He kissed down your neck, down the little bits of exposed skin along your collarbone and started to sink down to his knees. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission as his hands started to snake up your ankles, pulling your long skirt up along with it. All it took was your little nod before he slipped your skirt down your hips entirely. He buried his face into your lace underwear, a small cry falling from your lips. His fingers hooked over the edge of the lacy fabric and began to pull them teasingly slow down your legs. He didn’t hesitate to flatten his tongue and give your fold one long swipe.

Your hand rushed out to grab the bookshelf beside you, knocking some of the covers to the floor in a loud crash. The giggle that you let out quickly turned into a moan as Cassian’s nose bumped your clit. The free hand tangled itself in his pulled back hair, loosening some of the strand from the bun. His response was sinking his teeth into the flesh at your tight. Your fingers harshly yanking at long locks. He licked teasingly over the mark his mouth had left. 

“God I love these.” He muttered as he kneaded your plush thighs. He gave you a quick glance before he shoved his face back into your weeping cunt. Rough hands pulling your hips closer to his relentless mouth, arms nearly supporting all of your weight like it was nothing to him. The angle gave you a good look at the muscles in his back as they flexed as he moved his head, his wings pulled in tight to avoid the shelves of books. You bit your fingers to hold back the string of moans falling from your lips. His teeth scraped lightly over your clit and you were bucking away from his mouth. Suddenly too much but that didn’t stop him. He whimpered as he pulled your hips closer again. The soft grunts leaving his mouth and the way his tongue was licking into your hole had you barrling over the edge before you could even think to tell him. You screamed around your fingers, head falling back against the bookshelf you were now completely leaning against. Cassian is still licking you through your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered open and you nearly jumped when you felt a finger at your entrance. He was grinning up at you, chin shiny with your arousal. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he sunk two fingers in, palm resting perfectly on your clit. 

“Look at the way you suck my fingers in. So good for me.” He said into the skin of your thighs as he started to pump those fingers in and out of you. You squirmed against his fingers, hip twisting as he started to speed us his motions. He grabbed one of your legs and slung it over his shoulder, opening you up wider for him. Your hand was doing nothing to conceal the squeals and high pitched moans leaving your mouth. So you just let them fall freely. 

“Cassian…Fuck. Please” You babbled, not entirely sure what you were begging for. For more, for him to stop, for him to speed up. You had no clue but you knew that you were going to explode if he wasn’t inside of you right this minute. His fingers didn’t slow down for a second, the veins in his arm starting to pop out as he flexed at the speed. Despite your brain screaming otherwise, your hand reached down to his wrist. He stilled instantly. Eyes suddenly full of concern. 

You only pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, hands going to undo his belt. 

“Darling. Hold on-” His words died off with a small whine as your hand wrapped around his hardened length. 

“No. Cassian I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now.” Your voice was breathy and shaky. The need to have your mate inside you is too strong all of the sudden. 

“I could get you home in-”

“Please. Need you now.” You begged, moving your hand up and down, squeezing when you reached the base. His hips bucked and a small huff left his lips. 

“I wanted to make it special since it was your birthday but…fuck. I warned you, princess.” He said, head leaning against yours as he lightly brushed your hand away. He pushed his pants down to let his cock fully spring out. Despite being mated to him for so long, his cock always made you balk just a little. The length so thick your fingers just barely touched when you wrapped your hand around it. “Jump.” Was all he said as his hands went to cup the back of your thighs. You did so with a practiced ease. Your ankles wrapping around his back as he lined himself up with your dripping folds. You both hissed as his tip nudged into you. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, slamming all the way in. His pace was relentless. The pace of his thrusts caused the bookshelf to rattle against the wall. Your mouth parted into a perfect o shape. Cassian just squeezed your jaw, opening your mouth up further for him to place a claiming kiss on your lips. The kiss was just as messy as his strokes, his tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. A perfect mixture of the two of you. You wrapped your legs around him tighter, using it as leverage to pull him into you. He growled into the kiss, teeth digging into your lower lip. Your back arched into his chest and his hand moved from your jaw to wrap around your ponytail. He yanked on the hair, tipping your head further back, effectively pinning you into place. 

“Cas. Cas please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” His teeth nip your earlobe right as his fingers come to rub tight circles on your clit. You are a goner. Your legs twitch against his back, his name pouring past your lips as he fucks your through your orgasm. His thrusts slow down, becoming languid strokes as he nears his own high. Your lips are all over him. Trailing exhausted kisses to his jaw, hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt that somehow managed to stay on during your actions. He stilled inside of you as you felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten before the warm rush of his cum filled you. His head dipped into the crook of your neck before you were whispering into his ear.

“Take me home right now.” And he didn’t need to be told twice. Before you could even process it, he had your skirt buttoned back at your waist. Underwear slid back up your legs. Not a single hair was out of place as he scooped you up in his arms and flew you back to your apartment. 

------

The door had barely closed behind before your lips attached to his. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you. You felt the door shudder behind you as he pushed your back against it. Both of your hands were everywhere. Clothes peeled off with no regard for where they ended up. 

“I never got to show you the best part of your present. Stay here.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before walking over to his bedside table and grabbing a small fabric pouch. He walked back over to you and slowly pulled out the contents of the bag. A long silver chain with a leather loop on the end. Your eyes widened as you placed two and two together. 

“Only if you want to. That’s why I wanted-”

“Yes.” You blurted out. A blush took over your face but he only smiled at you. 

“Then on your knees, darling.” He was suddenly towering over you and you loved every second of it. The carpet was soft under your knees and you sunk down. Your hands folded onto your thighs and your chin tilted up to look at him. He sucked in a heavy breath as your eyes met. A tender hand reached out to cup under your chin, tilting your chin further back and he crouched down to hook the chain into the large ring holding the piece of his siphon. You felt the added weight and goosebumps rose to your skin as he let the cold metal lay against your face. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Good.” Your mouth felt so heavy. 

“Safe sign?” 

“Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” You didn’t hesitate to answer, need rushing through you as he stood back up. His length right at your eye line. You felt saliva pool in your mouth. 

He gave the leash a gentle tug, pulling your head back ever so slightly. 

“Open.” You did immediately. But instead of his cock he leaned down again, hand squeezing your jaw open wider, and you felt his spit enter your mouth. You couldn’t even process the way it made your stomach clench before he was thrusting into your mouth. His spit makes his cock glide easily against your tongue. You kept your jaw lax, waiting for the command to close your lips around him. This was something you and Cassian had discussed a number of times. And it was even better than you imagined it could have been. 

“Suck sweetheart. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” And you did. You wrapped your lips around his thick length. Reveling in the weight of it against your tongue. A moan built in the back of your throat and was choked off with a sharp tug of the leash. He slipped all the way to the back of your throat. Thanks to years of practice, you took him with ease. He released some of the tension on the chain and you slid back, only for him to repeat the action again and again. Your cheeks were on fire at this point. Tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. The wonderful fuzzy feeling in your head told you just how hard he was fucking your mouth. You didn’t want it to end. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was too much. The burn between your thighs is too much to ignore. One of your hands snuck its way between your thighs and you had just slipped a finger inside of your weeping hole before he tugged the leash back. You whined at the feeling of his cum against your fingers.

“Fuck. Do you like my cock in your mouth that much?” He gritted out. A long string of spit connecting from your lips to his glistening member. You didn’t take your eyes off of it as you nodded your head. Nor did you stop the motion of your fingers.

“Words.” He tugged the leash up to make you look at him.  

“Yes sir. I love it.” He shuddered at your words. As he took in your blown wide pupils, his cock twitched and you surged forward to wrap your lips around it again but he held tight onto the chain. 

“Get on the bed.” He ordered and you pulled your fingers out of yourself slowly, feeling your walls clench around nothing. He pulled you up to your feet, a calloused hand resting under your arm as he let you get your feet underneath you. He tugged you over to the bed and helped you climb onto the bed. You were about to flip onto your back but a strong arm wrapped around your waist stopped you. 

“Hands and knees.” He whispered into your ear. You felt a wave of slick coat your thighs as you arched your back for him. His hands rubbed up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass. You pushed back into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hands on your skin. He reached a hand between your legs and shoved a single finger into you. Your arms collapsed underneath you as he immediately found that spot inside of you. Your hips start to move on their own and you felt a tug on the leash, forcing you up onto your elbow again. You back arching even more as he held all your weight on that single chain. You panted as his fingers slowly stroked inside of you. 

“Are you ready for me, sweet girl?” 

“Yes. Please sir.” The words split off of your tongue and he was thrusting into you. The leash held you in place as he pounded into you. The sound of his hips hitting your ass filled the room. You could feel the way your thighs recoiled against the torturous pace. You were held in place, hips unable to push back, head held in the air. You reached a hand back, needing to feel your mate to ground you. He quickly intertwined your fingers, holding your hand. The gentleness of the action is a vast contrast to the way his trust speeds up. You were jolted forward with each frenzied push of his hips. You could feel every inch of him pushing your walls apart. You writhed under him, muscles shaking as you fought to keep yourself up. You gave a particularly hard jerk and you felt the tension on the leash drop and your face was against the pillow. You heard the sound of the chain hitting the bed under you and Cassian wrapped both of his hands around your thighs. He used the new position to pull you against him in time with his thrusts. Loud mewls being pulled from your lips. You were completely drunk on the feeling of him inside of you as you felt that knot build in you. It felt different from earlier. You struggled to get out the words to let Cassian know, but he always knew. He knew your body better than you at this point. He glided a hand over your stomach, pressing down on the soft flesh right above where he was inside you. The pressure had you screaming his name as your vision went white. You felt your release drip down your thighs, felt the way in leaked down around him. Cassian cursed before he whined above you. 

“Look at you darling. You squirted for me.” His thrusts did not falter in the slightest. The lewd sounds of your wetness filled the room as you hummed against the pillow. Utterly fucked out. His pace stuttered once, twice and then a carnal growl left his lips as his hips stilled. You felt him empty himself inside of you. Staying fully sheathed inside of you as shudders wracked through his body. His hands were everywhere then. Rubbing all over your back, over your legs. He eventually pulled out of you and pulled you against his chest. 

Quick kisses were peppered all over your face as his hand went to detach the leash from your necklace. You gave your neck a quick roll as the added weight was removed. His hands instantly come up to rub any added tension. He stepped out of the room long enough to grab a wet wash cloth and gently clean between your legs. Giving you a small kiss when you jumped from the additional stimulation. He threw the washcloth somewhere in the room before he pulled you into his arms again.

He laid you down on the bed, placing you on his chest. His hands are still rubbing small circles all over your skin. The perfect amount of pressure to bring you back down to earth. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against his chest. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Happy birthday, darling.” was the last thing you heard before his gentle breathing lulled you to sleep.

Taglist: @daycourtofficial @milswrites @ninthcircleofprythian @prythianpages @dawneternal @lady-of-tearshed @writingcroissant @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay @velariscalling @tsunami-of-tears @stormhearty @utterlyazriel @historiaxvanserra @acotarxreader @illyrianbitch @itsswritten

[pit-and-the-pen]

LOVE THIS. Omg

Cauldron-born.

“I hadn’t meant to hide this from you Rhysand,” Helion’s usual warm tone was replaced with something sterner, bolder— unwavering.

A breeze pulled on your skirt, the floaty material rippling under the wind. It was always warm in Day, but now, with the appearance of uninvited guests, there was a coldness in the air you hadn’t experienced before.

A bite that pulled at your skin raising goosebumps across your arms.

You guessed this reaction wasn’t a rare occurrence when facing the Night Courts Inner Circle.

Helion shifted his weight, his body stood in front of yours in a protective manner. A nervousness emitted from his energy, an emotion that actually seemed strange to even be associated with him.

Helion wasn’t the nervous type. Charming and flirtatious, bold and defiant— not nervous.

Helion pushed his shoulders back, his stance flexing against the shadowy group that had just arrived.

They had shaken him.

Perhaps you were naive to think these people wouldn’t, naive to believe you could live your life quietly. Slip through the cracks. Go unnoticed. No you were not destined for that, as much as your dear friend may have wanted that for you.

So if a quiet life was not meant to be, then you would at least claim it as yours.

With a light step you moved from behind Helion to his side, coming into full view of the group who had appeared unannounced in the courtyard. Your hand came to Helion’s gently, giving him a soft squeeze and light smile that stretched to your eyes.

How they had gotten through Day Courts shields didn’t come as a surprise really. Helion had divulged how powerful the High Lord of the Night Court was. That if he really wanted to take them all down, then Helion suspected in that unrelenting pit of power Rhys probably could.

But despite this power, Rhys had never ravaged control over the land. Helion was fond of Rhys and his family, they were allies. Perhaps he would even consider them friendly.

And yet Helion hadn’t told them about you.

Energies and rhythms rippled from their bodies, all with their own melody of colours unique to them floating towards you. Your eyes scanned over their features quickly, reading their expressions, the tight lines their faces made before one look pulled you to a hasty stop.

A hazel lock held you tightly as a males gaze ensnared you.

Golden rays broke through a midnight blue aura, trapping you in a moment that seemed to expand and retract all at once. He was the most beautiful male you’d ever laid eyes on, and it took every ounce of will power to pull your gaze from his.

There was a simmering at the pit of your stomach, something familiar and warm, and you swore you could hear singing—

“She is like us.” A female from the back of the crowd spoke, beautiful and sweet. Elain, you assumed. Her aura, one that resembled sunlight radiating in golden flicks. If you hadn’t known who she was you’d had assumed she was a Day court resident from her glow alone.

Elain stepped forward, another female stepping beside her as if they’d both been pulled by the same magnetic pulse to the front of the group.

This girl. This girl was Nesta. You were sure of it. That silver flickering aura licked at her skin, an energy so similar and yet so different to her sisters.

“Hm..no not exactly like us…” Elain seemed to mutter then, more to herself than anyone else. Her eyes scanning you as she tried to get a read, try and decipher what had pulled her here in the first place.

Why you had pulled them here.

“Something other.” Nesta spoke.

You don’t think she’d actually intended for it to sound so venomous, but the words had snapped like poison. You noticed how for a split second there was a softeness in her energy. Whether she was regretful of her tone or not, you had flinched at the word.

Other.

Hm. Perhaps that was the best way to describe you.

Elain glanced at her sister, her face not changing as she digested Nesta’s words. There was a shuffling behind them, only slight and small. Would barely be noticeable if it wasn’t so hard for you not to notice.

Him.

His scarred fingers twitched at his sides, shadows swirling around them as they peered over those giant black membranes that were drawn in at his back. A tattoo creeped up the side of his neck, peeking through his shirt as you followed up to his jaw. Black leather’s covered his body, blue siphons shimmering under the setting sun. You tried so hard not to let your eyes wander back, but as though you had no control you gaze landed on his.

Only to find he was already staring.

Azriel.

Helion had mentioned him to you before and you recalled how you had rolled the name a few times in your mouth. The name feeling so foreign and familiar all at once.l that you couldn’t help ripple the syllables on your tongue.

“Not cauldron-made, no not quite.” Elain had turned her attention back to you.

You had stepped forward now, stepped out from the shadow of Helion.

Stepped out to face what you had been avoiding.

“You are Cauldron-born.”

—

a/n: little rough draft of a new idea??! maybe?? I literally just came up with it and not really sure where I'm taking it hehe or if I even will. I know it's super vague so if an idea comes to mind when you read this then please share in the comment hehe

forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

[pit-and-the-pen]

Yes, Valkyrie

₊⊹ Gwynriel one shot

₊⊹ Gwyn is inspired by a scene in her current read. Of course, she begins conspiring to reenact this scene, with a little help from Azriel's shadows. Somewhere along the way, she discovers a persona she had no idea was waiting under the surface.

₊⊹ Word Count: 2.8k

₊⊹ Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI. Established relationship. Gwyn is in charge, Az is tied up (kind of) p in v, shadow play, wing play.

(listen I don't write that much smut so idk how to tag this, if I missed anything pls let me know)

₊⊹ Read on AO3

₊⊹ Divider by tsunami-of-tears

Gwyn snapped her book shut and set it on the table in front of her. She took a long sip of her iced coffee in an attempt to cool her warm skin. The story was getting a little too salacious to read in public. Nesta or Emerie would probably keep reading, though they were both better at masking their emotions.

She glanced at Azriel, who hadn't noticed a thing, engrossed in his own book. She wasn't sure if it was something he was reading for fun or for work. They all tended to look the same, thick and weathered with a million dog-eared pages and notes in the margins. As his mate and a librarian, Gwyn should probably know. But she wasn't often thinking about books when she was with him.

Like now, as she found her eyes wandering from the long-winded title on the spine to his long fingers, poised to turn the page. Her gaze slid up, tracing the outline of his form. It was his day off and he wore a black shirt that hugged his muscled arms and torso. His black curls were perfectly messy, tortoiseshell reading glasses perched on his nose. His shadows buzzed around him like sleepy bees on a sunny day - a sign that he was actually relaxed. Even while he focused, brows furrowed and bottom lip poked out in concentration, he kept a claiming hand on Gwyn's thigh.

He did not notice her scent change as her thoughts turned back toward her book, replacing the love interest's features with his. The love interest of this story happened to have wings like Azriel, and a few specific lines were echoing in her mind. He had let her touch his wings before, but nothing quite like the scene she had just read.

Gwyn swallowed a wicked grin and stretched her arms up and out, letting out a long, pretend yawn. She let her fingertips brush the edge of his wing as she brought her arms back down. He started, shadows darting into action as his wings tucked into his body with a snap. He turned his head toward her slowly with a wide-eyed look that read are you crazy?

"My bad," Gwyn smiled innocently. Azriel blinked at her for a moment before returning to his reading. But she felt it, the flicker of heat he had sent through the bond as her fingers had brushed his wing.

✦✦✦

When they returned to the House of Wind, Gwyn quietly trailed Azriel into their shared room. His shadows were on her side today, choosing not to alert him to the fact that he was being followed. She was the only one who was silent enough to sneak up on him.

She closed the door with a thud, leaning against it, and that wicked grin returned. Azriel jumped, head whipping to look over his shoulder. The shadows danced with amusement at their clever trick.

"Yes, Valkyrie?" He huffed a breath. Her gaze lingered on his backside, meandering up to meet his gaze as he turned around fully.

"I have an idea," Gwyn said.

Her voice was a note deeper than usual and it had his attention. He tilted his head at her, eyes gleaming with interest.

"Do you trust me?" Gwyn continued, and she watched his eyes darken.

"Yes," His voice was a little breathy and the Valkyrie grinned.

"Wings only," She explained, pushing off the door and stalking closer until they were nearly chest to chest.

Azriel's eyebrows shot upwards, but Gwyn did not miss the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

"Yes," He said again, after a moment.

Gwyn reached out, sliding her hands under his shirt to lift it from his body. He let her, utterly still as she pulled it over his head and began a constellation of kisses, connecting his tattoos and battle scars. The bond was humming, pulsing with warmth at every touch, doubling the thrill of anticipation. He watched in adoration, fingers tangling in her ponytail as she unbuckled his belt and slid his pants and underwear to the floor.

"Kneel on the bed," She ordered, blood singing with anticipation as she looked up at him. His cock twitched at the command and he obeyed, crawling into the bed and kneeling in front of her. Arms loose at his sides, muscular thighs spread, his body was on full display.

Gwyn let her hair down, the white ribbon that had been tied in a bow now dangling from her fingers. She circled around to the other side of the bed and gently grasped his wrists. His breath hitched as she bound his hands with the ribbon, but he did not protest.

"Good boy," Gwyn murmured, pressing one chaste kiss to his shoulder before moving to face him again.

She caught his gaze dragging over her as she stood before him, and she let herself admire him in turn. His smooth bronze skin, slim hips and absurdly defined abs, and strong arms that could break through the ribbon any time he wanted. But judging by his blown pupils and hardening cock, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Gwyn peeled her clothes off slowly, holding his eye contact as she did so. She let her breasts bounce as she pulled off her bra, chuckling as his shadows rushed forward to caress her bare nipples.

"Keep your shadows to yourself, pretty boy," She murmured, swallowing a gasp at their cool, light touch. Almost reluctantly, they returned to their master, swirling around his head like a dark halo.

Free of her clothes, Gwyn moved to stand before him, eyes flicking over the sweat already beading at his brow. She lifted his chin with her fingers and smirked as she bypassed his lips, leaning to press soft kisses down his throat, drinking in the rapid beat of his pulse. She traced his body with a gentle touch, running over the lines of his tattoos and the grooves between his muscles. It was a routine she could not bring herself to break, mapping his body with the affection he deserved. She heard his breath hitch again, wings rustling behind him as they untucked and spread.

The Valkyrie climbed onto the bed and moved behind him, peppering the back of his neck and shoulders with open mouthed kisses, tongue sliding over his skin. Avoiding his wings just yet.

"Are you ready?" She leaned forward and purred into his ear, breasts pressed against his back.

"Mhm," He murmured, chest rising and falling.

"Words, shadowsinger."

"I'm ready," He stammered, as if it were hard to conjure words in this position.

"You'll tell me any time you want to stop?"

"I promise."

Satisfied, Gwyn began, dipping her finger into the inside seam where the velvety dark wing met his skin, facing toward his shoulder blade. The skin was especially soft, protected from wind and sun. He let out a quiet moan, arching his back into her touch.

"So responsive," Gwyn murmured, circling her fingers around to the other side, stroking along the thick base of his wing.

"I can't help it," He groaned, shivering again.

"No?" She asked, leaning forward to run her tongue over the spot where her fingers had just been. The base of the wing was fuzzy, like the skin of a peach.

"Fuck," Azriel grunted.

"So my book wasn't lying?" She asked, her voice like a sultry song. Her hands continued their exploration, up the solid arches of his wings toward the shining talons.

"I should've guessed this came from a book," He ground out.

Gwyn wanted him incapable of speech, not taunting her. So she pressed harder, raking her nails back down the thin membrane as she licked a stripe up his spine. His wings shivered, trembling with the effort of deciding wether to lean in or move away. A conflict that Azriel often subjected her to, and now she could get even.

"What were you saying?" She crooned, and smirked when she got no answer. Only the shadowsinger's heavy breathing, his shadows pulsing around him.

She touched every inch of wing, memorizing their beautiful shape, adding every curve and texture to the map in her mind. Every seam had a dip the perfect size for her finger to drag through, the skin so delicate, the structure so intricate and lovely.

His body shone with sweat as  worshipped without mercy, savoring the salty taste of his skin as she pulled moan after and moan from his throat. It almost seemed as though those wings were built purely for pleasure, the way his body reacted to her touch, the noises he made purely sinful.

By the time she had returned to her starting point, having licked, nipped and stroked everything she could reach, Azriel's entire body shook.

She rose up on her knees and peered over his shoulders to catch a glimpse of his face, contorted in pleasure, and his cock, red and weeping. A few times, his shadows swept in toward her and then backed away, just barely brushing her skin. As if Azriel had begun to reach for her and then remembered the rules.

"Tell me which part you like best," She let her breath brush over his ear again, reveling in the goosebumps spreading in response. He was so close to falling apart, one foot in a realm of pure pleasure.

"The-the," He swallowed hard, a groan escaping in between words as he answered, "The inside, near my shoulder blades."

Gwyn hummed, watching his muscles tighten in anticipation as her fingertips moved back toward that inner seam. The sounds he released as she found that hidden spot lit a fire in the Valkyrie's stomach. She didn't have to look to know that her arousal was dripping onto the bed beneath her. As if she cared, right now.

"Fuck," He groaned, "I can't...I need...."

Gwyn was driven wild by the glistening muscles flexing against the ribbon that bound him. She threaded her fingers into his dark curls and tugged, not very gently.

"Come for me," She commanded, voice low and wicked and she dug her fingertips in deeper.

The moan that he released was nothing like his usual gutteral groan. This was higher pitched, soft and breathy and elicited from some deep and desperate place. Gwyn did not know that a noise could make her cunt throb the way it did.

She gave him barely a moment to come down from his high before she was crawling around to face him, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing him fiercely. He chased her lips with his, emitting broken sounds into her throat as her tongue swept in.

Pulling back to look at him, panting, she wasn't sure she had ever felt this desperate. Azriel was entirely undone and at her mercy, his chest slick with sweat and painted with his cum, hands still tied behind him as he panted. His hair stuck up where she had pulled it, his eyes dark and full of desire. And something new, that she hadn't seen before. She was sure he'd seen it often. It was desperation, like he was one kiss away from begging for what he wanted.

"Do as I say and you'll be rewarded," She said, leaning in to graze his lips as she spoke. She kissed him again, softly. Agonizingly slow, even as he tried to speed up.

Gwyn pulled back, dragged two fingers through the stripes of white dripping down his torso and pushed them into his mouth.

"Suck."

His cock twitched against her thigh, already hard and aching again. He kept his eyes locked on hers as his warm tongue swirled around her fingers, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"Good boy," She murmured, and the whine he let out was against his will.

Gwyn had been in charge before, but she had never dared to be this bossy. It had not even come from the book that had inspired this whole thing. This had emerged from somewhere deep inside her, and it set every inch of her skin on fire. Azriel's eyes burned into hers as she took her fingers from his mouth, tightening his lips so her fingers made a pop upon release. He watched as she reached between her legs with those fingers, coated in his spit, for some relief.

She bit her lip, swallowing a moan, cheeks reddening in desperation.

"Can I touch you?" Azriel croaked, pulling at the ribbon that Gwyn had almost forgotten about.

"Remember your manners," She said, fingers still circling between her legs.

"Can I please touch you?"

Gwyn reached around with her free hand and pulled the knot undone. Immediately, one strong arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his lap to straddle him. And his other hand pushed hers aside, dipping a finger into her soaked cunt.

She was lost to it for a moment as relief rolled through her body. The shadowsinger took the opportunity to attack her neck, kissing and marking with fervor. She closed her eyes and basked in his touch for just a moment before she remembered her task. She would not let her control slip away so easily.

Her eyes snapped open, and she felt a wave of satisfaction as the shadowsinger shrank, just a little. His plan had not worked. The shadows shuddered, as if giggling at their master's foolishness.

"You promised to do as I say," It was almost a growl. She pushed his shoulders until he was laying down, legs straightening out before him as she straddled his hips. "And you tried to take control from me."

Gwyn lowered her body, movements fluid and graceful like a predator, until her chest was pressed against his and they were nose to nose.

"I think I deserve an apology, don't you?" She purred, hips circling and spreading her arousal over his length.

"Yes," He breathed, the amber of his eyes barely visible behind his pupils, "I'm sorry."

"Yes what?" She demanded, sliding her hand up around his throat and pressing the lightest amount of pressure against the sides, "I'm sorry what?"

His eyes widened and for a moment she thought she had gone too far, but then she felt a moan in his throat, vibrating beneath her palm.

"Yes Valkyrie," His voice was broken, body softening like putty under her hands, "I'm sorry, Valkyrie."

"Good boy," A grin spread across Gwyn's face. She sat up, keeping that hand wrapped around his throat as she rose up and aligned them. The other braced against his chest. She did not bother with a slow entry, sinking down on his cock in one motion, thighs flush against hips. He let out a hiss as she paused to let herself adjust.

The world around her was fading as her desperation grew, her body aching almost painfully. It would almost be a mercy to relinquish control again. But she craved the rush of this position as much as she craved release.

"Let your shadows touch me," She choked out the words, beginning to move her hips. Azriel obeyed, letting his shadows loose. They circled her body and attacked, swirling over every part of her they could reach.

Her high was approaching fast, urged on by the sight of Azriel below her, face flushed and lips parted. She pressed against his throat and chest harder, using him as leverage to angle herself deeper. He watched,  mesmerized by the rhythm of her body, and grasped her hips, fingertips digging in as he urged her faster. Every rise and fall of her hips made an obscene slap, echoing through the room.

With a shadow attached to each nipple and one moving over her clit, she was soaring close to the edge. She slammed down harder, a grunt escaping in time with each smack of her ass against his thighs. Azriel reached up and squeezed her breasts, rolling both nipples between his fingers.

The change from the shadows soft touch to his firm hands pulled her over. Her head fell back as she roared, louder than she had ever let herself. Azriel's hands slid down around her waist to keep her moving and extend the waves of bliss. The hand around Azriel's throat finally loosened, nails dragging down his chest in time with a long, breathy moan.

Finally, she slumped forward, letting her body fall against his as she closed her eyes. Azriel wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. He let her lay still for a long moment before whispering, cautiously,

"Is this still the Valkyrie or is this my Gwyn again?"

"Gwyn," She murmured against his skin. Whatever vixen that possessed her had retreated, leaving her spent and sweaty.

"Good," He said, his voice dropping a note lower. She squealed as those strong arms flipped her around and she found herself laying underneath him, staring up into his smirking face.

"But...." She whispered, suddenly shy, "Did you like her? The Valkyrie?"

"I think I'd have to meet her again to be sure" Azriel murmured, nosing at the space between her shoulder and neck, breath hot against her skin, "But for now it is my turn."

[pit-and-the-pen]

Sweetened Dreams

Pairing: Azriel x Dream Weaver Fem!Reader

Summary: Having access to the people of Velaris' dreams was a gift you did not take for granted. Having access to your mate's heated dreams? Absolutely delicious.

Warnings: 18 + mdni (f oral, p in v, sex dreams).

Word count: 2.6k

You watched on from the balcony as rosy fingered dawn made her appearance. The warm light of the morning sun bled into the horizon, casting an amber glow over the sleeping streets of Velaris.

It was early — far too early for you to be awake on your day off. And yet, despite the remnants of drowsiness which still lingered in your system, you found yourself incapable of succumbing to the warm embrace of sleep.

Rather, you welcomed the gentle breeze of the morning air as it kissed your reddened cheeks on the balcony of your home, the wind working to quell the heated blush which had risen in the wake of your untimely stirring.

You were no stranger to being awake at unreasonable hours — it was the gruelling nature of your job. Gifting dreams to the slumbering citizens of the Night Court. Yet, in all your years of working, never had you been disturbed by another person's dreams as you rested. Not until now.

The soft, lingering touches as his gentle hands explored your curves.

The salacious cry of pleasure which slipped from his parted lips.

The mouth-watering drag of his hips languidly meeting your own.

Azriel was dreaming.

Dreaming of you.

The sensuous image of Azriel's lustful fantasy, alongside the blinding wave of arousal being passed down the bond, was enough to leave you flushed. Dawn's cool air provided you with no respite from your mate's titillating thoughts as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer with each minute passed.

The heated kiss of his soft lips trailing across the sensitive skin of your neck.

The grounding touch of his calloused hands laced between your own.

The desperate groan which followed each passionate thrust he delivered.

It was impossible to block him out — whatever meagre control you once held over your magic had since been relinquished. Unable to change the course of his temptuous dream, your mind focussed solely on the primal surge of your mate's pleasure as it travelled down the bond. Finding every ounce of him overwhelming — your swirling thoughts were consumed by Azriel, and Azriel alone.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

Lost in the haze of the male's lustful vision, images of his mouth latched onto your skin caused a pleasant warmth to pool between your legs. Desire rising in your chest, you failed to notice that Azriel's dream had ceased. The familiar hum of your unruly magic had long since subsided and yet, even in the absence of its presence, your amorous thoughts remained solely on him.

Absorbed by the insatiable pulse of your growing hunger, you startled as the low voice of your mate called out from behind you. The remnants of sleep clinging on to Azriel's words as he huskily uttered, "my love, do you ever rest?"

"The city is sleeping, and so I'm awake," you answered simply, pausing for a moment as your mate's tender hands came to wrap around your middle — Azriel's welcoming warmth enveloping you as his chest firmly pressed against your back. You released a small sigh of contentment at his action, your head rolling back to rest against his shoulder as you continued, "when you sleep, your . . . thoughts -" Azriel's nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, a wave of pleasure washing over your body as his soft hum urged you to continue, "-they're quite loud."

A low sound of amusement rumbled in Azriel's chest at your words. Yet, the male's efforts remained focussed on leaving a trail of languidly placed kisses along the expanse of your neck, until — finally — the ghost of his heated breath enticingly blew against your ear as the Shadowsinger confessed, "I was dreaming about you."

You were helpless in stopping the quiet moan which slipped from your lips as Azriel gently tugged you closer towards him, goosebumps rising on your skin as the light touch of his growing member brushed tantalisingly against your back. Breathless, you replied, "I know . . . I saw it."

"And was this your doing?" Azriel enquired, a small cry of frustration escaping your mouth as the male halted his sensuous actions. His teasing lips torturously hovering over the sweet spot on your neck as he continued to press, "have you been blessing my dreams again, my love?"

"Not this time," you answered truthfully. Whilst soothing Azriel's restless slumber and unsettling nightmares came naturally to you, never have you had the courage to bless your mate's dreams with the sweetness that he was referring to, "those thoughts were yours alone."

"A pity," Azriel concluded, the male lessening the grip of his arms around your waist as he devilishly smirked down at your faltering expression, "I suppose if you've already seen it, I needn't provide you with a demonstration — oh, but what a sweet dream it was."

You pouted at the absence of Azriel's searing touch as you turned to face the male. Your hand moving to slowly graze your mate's bare chest as you lifted your playful gaze to meet his darkened eyes, "now that you mention it . . . I may need a reminder of exactly what it was that I saw."

"Is that so?" the Shadowsinger asked with a raised brow, his wings twitching with a mind of their own as he noted the pleasant shift in your honeyed scent.

"Hmm . . . how did it start again?" you mused, an alluring smile working its way onto your face as you moved your lips to lightly brush against his own, Azriel's breath catching in his throat at your teasing contact as you seductively whispered, "like this?"

"Actually," Azriel's wandering hands slipped down to meet the back of your thighs, the male swiftly lifting you up into his arms as he began to retreat back into the comforting warmth of your bedroom. The promise of a fulfilling morning upon his lips as he purred, "I think it began with my head between your legs."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The experienced swipe of his salacious tongue against your slick.

The cooling bliss of his restless shadows as they moved to explore the soft contours of your writhing body.

The heated lust in his sultry gaze as he worked to keep his sight on your hooded eyes.

Azriel devoured you like a man starved.

And yet, despite the fervent nature of his actions, your mate's passion was delivered with an air of intimacy. The Shadowsinger's gentle hands moving to lace between your own as he softly groaned in satisfaction against your dripping sex.

It was almost too much to bear — your back arching from the bed in response to the carnal swipe of Azriel's tongue against your pulsing heat. A low whine falling from your lips as the male contentedly lapped up the taste of your sweetened arousal.

You mewled when Azriel turned his attention towards your clit, your mouth parting breathlessly as the male lazily trailed small circles around your aching bud. Gripping his hands tighter, you helplessly bucked against his face, your eyes closing in ecstasy as you lowly begged for more.

It was utter bliss.

Your senses were wholly consumed by your mate as he eagerly worked to bring you to completion, each delicious movement succeeding in ebbing away the last dregs of drowsiness which still remained from your early wakening.

Yet, your feeling of intense pleasure was gone all too soon, Azriel having pulled away just as you were on the precipice of your high. Groaning at the absence of his heated touch, your eyes fluttered open to meet your mate's mischievous gaze, a matching smirk etched onto his handsome face.

A lucky female indeed.

"Is this stirring your memory yet, my love?" Azriel crooned, the male slowly crawling up the length of your body until his swollen lips came to brush against your own. That same glint of unbridled mischief reflecting in your own eyes as you hummed your reply, "possibly . . ." Your hand leisurely trailed down Azriel's chest until it came to rest upon his hardened cock, "but I may need a little reminder of what came next."

A frenzied growl broke from Azriel's throat at your action, the male's eyes growing dark with lust before he finally sealed his lips against your own.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The kiss was searing — a passionate clash of tongues and teeth. Your mouths moved together in a wondrous synchrony as the two of you sought to sate your growing desire.

You were insatiable; wanting nothing more than to be consumed by all Azriel had to offer.

His sweetened scent.

His delectable taste.

His heated touch.

Every last inch of him was intoxicating.

You needed your fix of him, and so, desperate to quell the pulsing ache which had risen in your core at his fervid touch, you impatiently rolled your hips against his own. A feverish moan spilling from your lips as the head of Azriel's leaking cock brushed tantalisingly against your dripping folds.

Softly chuckling at your growing frustration, Azriel playfully nipped at the push skin on your lips as he pulled away from the kiss. Admiration pooling in your mate's hazel eyes, he stole a moment to take in the radiance of your morning glow. His once darkened gaze softening as it swept over your heavenly features, the male's mouth parted in awe as he quietly asked, "am I still dreaming?"

You blushed at the innocence of Azriel's question, your hand moving to lovingly rest against your mate's face as your thumb began to gently caress his pinkish cheeks. A soothing smile crossing your lips, you replied with a question of your own, "and what would you do if you were still dreaming?"

Azriel lent forwards, the heated touch of his breath softly tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he purred, "I would do this." The male placed a gentle kiss into the crook of your neck, your body quivering with anticipation as he began to trail his mouth lower. "And this," he uttered, sweetly placing another kiss onto the curve of your breast. "And also this," he finished, his lips moving to ghost over your pert nipple. Azriel's mouth parted into a soft 'o' as the male lightly blew onto your stiffened peak, a warm smile stretching across his face before his swollen lips finally came to close around your breast.

Sighing in bliss, you arched into the male's touch, your body writhing underneath his own as he delicately sucked at your tender skin. "Is that all?" you taunted breathlessly as Azriel moved his mouth to tend to your other breast, whining as your mate teasingly rolled his tongue around your peaked nipple.

Yet, the wondrous sensation which had risen from your mate's salacious kisses did nothing to sate your ever-growing desire. And so, needing more, you ground yourself against the male's hardened cock — your eyes heavy with want as you urged him to act.

So Azriel did. A soft cry spilling from your lips as the male slowly pushed his cock into your pulsing heat, your mate euphorically mumbling into your skin as he did so, "gods, you're perfect... my beautiful, beautiful mate." 

You flushed at both his sweetened words and the pleasant feeling of his cock as he fully sheathed himself inside you. A languorous moan emitted past your lips as he stretched you fully; the sound turning into one of incredulous frustration as your mate failed to move. Locking your legs around his waist, you impatiently ground your hips against his, asking — no begging — the male for more. "Eager little thing," Azriel whispered as he began to move his hips at a torturously slow pace, "let me enjoy you, my love."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

It was impossible for Azriel to look away; his drunken gaze lust-filled and half-lidded as the male fought against his growing pleasure to keep his eyes locked on you.

On the delectable bounce of your plush breasts as they followed the slow rhythm of his passionate thrusts.

On the darkness which had consumed your irises as lust and desire took hold of your gaze.

On the shape of your parted lips as you let out sweet sounds of pleasure as you milked his warmed cock.

If this were a dream, then Azriel wished never to wake — the male longing to stay in his slumber forever, so as to memorise every intricate detail of your face.

Craving a more intimate connection, Azriel entwined his hands with your own, his face moving to burrow into the curve of your neck before softened words of love and adoration began to tumble from your mate's awestruck lips.

Azriel gritted his teeth as he quickened his pace, the male chasing after the addicting high of his release. His heart pounding at the way you clenched around his cock as your own organism grew nearer. And it was there, the sweet sound of your mewling slowly working to coax your mate's eyes open, that Azriel once more bore witness to your ethereal glow. 

A bright warmth radiated from your skin, the soft light reflecting in Azriel's reverential gaze. It was as though you had been blessed by the stars themselves; your skin holding a golden lustre which made you look utterly irresistible.

You were a gift.

To Prythian.

To Velaris.

To Azriel.

Basking in the light of your other-worldly power, Azriel's grip on your hands tightened as he continued his bruising rhythm, his wings twitching as he took in your godly form beneath him. A strangled cry of pleasure escaped your lips at the male's deep strokes, his fervent passion succeeding in tipping you over the edge of bliss as the heated wave of your orgasm finally washed over you.

Guided by your glowing light, Azriel continued to chase after his own release. The male's thrusts grew desperate as he moved deeper and deeper inside of you with each stroke delivered. Until finally, Azriel reached his own high. The low tones of his frenzied groan reaching your ears as your mate came undone, ribbons of his white hot cum painting your walls as he did so.

You both lay there for a moment, the weight of Azriel's chest heaving against your own as the two of you fought to catch your breaths.

Stealing a moment to bask in the peaceful silence of dawn, you admired the male's post-sex glow. The glistening sheen of his sweat-soaked brow, the delicate curl of his tousled hair, the satisfied smile which lazily stretched across his swollen lips.

It was difficult to believe that Azriel was real and not simply a conjuring of your own imagination — a manifestation of your sweetest dreams. Yet, the grounding touch of his hands clasped between yours reminded you that this was real; that he was real.

It was only when the crushing wave of your highs had subsided, and the golden glow of your shimmering skin had dwindled, did Azriel then then pull himself from you. The male slumping onto the bed by your side, his large wings dropping in fatigue before he pulled you into the the warm embrace of his arms.

Softly sighing at the cool touch of his wandering shadows which still trailed across the length of your heated skin, you began to tease, "Was that everything you dreamed of then?"

"Everything and more," Azriel replied, his thumb working to rub small circles into your hip as he nestled his head into the crook of your neck once more, the male placing a gentle kiss onto your skin before he continued, "what a lucky male I am, to have had my dreams turned into reality by a being as beautiful as you."

You blushed at his words, amazed at the effect that the male still had on you even after years of being together. Glowing in domestic bliss, you answered, "perhaps I may have to start blessing your dreams myself if this is the treatment I'll receive. A good morning, indeed."

Azriel sleepily chuckled into your shoulder at your reply, his bright eyes finding yours before he warmly stated, "It's always a good morning when I wake to the sight of the sun between my arms."

Notes: so I'm back on the writing grind (hopefully)! I have a few more ideas for this pairing so let me know if you want to see more of them! Thank you to @itsswritten and @writingcroissant for sparking this idea and to @sarawritestories , @ninthcircleofprythian and @daycourtofficial for dealing with my mental breakdowns whilst I wrote this lol.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unbound

Part 4 - Dancing With Your Ghost

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 7.2k

Warnings - arousal scents, mention of wing amputation, mention/description of scars, implied SA (offpage), character in pain, hurt/comfort, flashback dream, sexually suggestive dialogue.

Author's Notes - We've made the jump into present time. This chapter takes place 100 years after the previous chapters.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Present Time (100 years later)

The sky was still gray with watery light as the townhouse slowly began to show signs of life. This morning began like most of them did, breakfast as a pair while the rest of Velaris was mostly in slumber, this morning especially. The weekend had brought the revelry and chaos of Starfall with most residents probably just having found their beds only hours ago after two days of stargazing and alcohol. 

Azriel’s normal routine had him heading off to training just as the sun was making its ascent over the horizon. Slow to wake and not really a morning Illyrian, he needed the extra time before leaving to get his mind working in tandem with his body. The effects of a barely cured hangover from two nights ago didn’t help. He allowed his wings a wide spanning stretch to shake off the effects of sleep before taking his usual place at the expansive round table. The shadows ringing his arms and shoulders seemed to follow suit and shake off their own doze and then took a zooming lap through the room. 

Celeste glided easily into the room carrying two steaming mugs, placing one next to his already filled plate at the table. Azirel’s gaze flickered to hers as she settled into the chair beside him. Her perfectly coiffed dark hair twisted into a tight bin at the nape of her neck. His shadows responded to her presence immediately, leaving behind his scarred hands and taking roost along her chair back before slipping down and settling like a fine mist along her shoulders. 

“Busy day?” Azriel questioned over the rim of his steaming mug.

“Mmhm.” Celeste nodded through a bite of eggs quickly swallowing. “Two new mothers to check in on and a surprising number of fairly impressive injuries to assess and redress.” As the official healer of the Night Court after Madja’s retirement not quite a century ago, most of the serious calls fell to Celeste. “Starfall falling on a weekend always adds extra to the schedule. No one can resist an extra day of celebrations.” A small smile lit up her face as she gave a sly sideways glance at his classically beautiful features. 

Azriel’s mind immediately went to their own added day of celebrations. After spending the whole night of Starfall with their family and the usual formal party, he and Celeste had chosen to spend the extra day alone. His own smile slowly crept across his face and a strong hand settled on Celeste’s thigh under the table. The memory of her in that dress a couple nights ago in the forefront of his mind. 

“No, they certainly can’t resist.” A rolling rumble left his throat as he turned back to his breakfast. Yet before he could shovel in the next bite, the sounds of Cassian pounding on the front door vibrated through the space.  

Azriel moved to let him in, giving Celeste’s thigh a gentle squeeze before standing fully. The sight of her in that lovely velvet dress dimmed in his memory, quickly replaced by the memory of her out of that dress. She flashed a sly smirk in return as Azriel’s scent thickened in his wake leaving her with her own memories of this past weekend. The misty shadows swirled around in the space he left behind but did not follow, instead staying behind clinging closely around Celeste. Rising from the table, she began plating up another breakfast for their guest. 

“I still don’t understand why you can’t just let us winnow inside like Rhys does at his townhouse.” Cassian’s griping echoed from the entryway. “Have me standing out there in the cold just waiting like a stray dog.”

Cassian’s mood was no doubt due to his celebratory weekend going awry. Nesta had spent most of the formal Starfall party glaring daggers at him through the crowd. Cas on the other hand spent the evening using poor attempts at humor to right whatever wrong he had committed. Nesta had already filled Celeste in on the details days before regarding the argument that had occurred leading up to the party. 

“Have you ever thought we might not want to be disturbed at all hours, Cassian?” Azriel’s deep voice carried strongly ahead of him before they made their appearance in the dining room.

“Here. Eat.” Celeste commanded as she slid a heaping plate into Cassian’s usual spot at the table. The shadows darted from their perch along her skin and quickly inspected the newcomer. Determining him of no interest they returned. “It will make you less grumpy. It’s far too early for that.”

“Cauldron bless you, Celeste.” he sighed and practically fell into the plate ready to devour it. “Tell that to Nesta,” he grumbled through an already full mouth. “Apparently the House takes her side in all our arguments now. I can’t even get it to conjure a decent meal anymore!”

Azriel rolled his eyes as he settled back to his own plate. Celeste stifled a giggle into her coffee mug at the thought of the House of Wind holding a grudge on Nesta’s behalf and refusing to feed poor Cas. 

“Have you tried apologizing perhaps?” Az drawled.

“I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING WRONG!” Cas bellowed in exasperation, rolling his eyes.

“Of course not.” Az’s sarcastic reply echoed from the bottom of his mug as he finished the last dregs of his tea. Celeste wisely kept her mouth shut, lips pressed into a thin line to keep an amused smile from appearing. Of course she had only heard Nesta’s side of the whole scenario, but she did make a compelling argument. And knowing Cassian as well as they all did, it was no stretch of the imagination to believe he could be incredibly dense at times. 

With a quick pause in his ravenous eating Cassian looked up, piercing his brother with a knowing look while making a not so subtle sniff at the air. “What exactly did I interrupt?”

Celeste started back to reality at the question, her mind had already wandered back to what had been brewing before Cassian arrived. Picking up on the tension, the shadows began a cycling track between the spouses. Az’s face snapped to her with a darkened look in his eye instead of returning Cas’s questioning gaze. A single stray wisp curled around his ear seemingly whispering. Whatever the secret entailed brought a flash of brightness to his eyes and a blush of color to his cheeks. 

A similar blush had already bloomed on her own face when a sudden flurry of noise caused Celeste to jump. She evaded answering the question as enchanted slips of paper fluttered to the table in a pile. She quickly gathered them and began to shuffle them into some semblance of order. 

Apparently Cas was only incredibly dense when it came to his mate as he shot out a disgusted noise at the assumed answer to his question. “Ugh. Gross. We eat here you know!”

Az’s stoic face brightened with amusement. “You’re one to talk Cassian,” quickly reminding his brother of his time as Cas’s chaperone in the House of Wind during his courtship with Nesta.

The notes had arrived from one of the enchanted pads of paper Celeste left for her patients and fellow healers. They allowed correspondence during her off hours if the need arose, although there were never truly “off” hours as a healer. She had enchanted them to deposit wherever she was present in order to be reached immediately. 

“Mmm,” she started as she swallowed the last of her bacon and gulped a final sip of coffee. “I should go. One of my new mothers is convinced the babe isn’t feeding enough. She’s panicking a bit being a new mom and all, but I should see her first thing.” Before she could slip past his wings to round behind his chair, Azriel reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling gently to halt her movement. Reaching out with his other scarred hand he cradled the side of Celeste’s face and tilted his head back, leaning in for a kiss. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” he crooned, pressing another soft kiss to her lips and drawing his thumb behind it, lightly tracing the line of her scar that crossed through her top lip. The raised skin along his fingertips caused a shiver to dance up her back.

“Yeah,” she responded in a whisper before standing upright again. Even after all this time, Azriel’s kiss never failed to leave her a little breathless. “And go easy on him today.” She tilted her head toward Cas across the table with a little smirk before rushing to the entryway for her things. 

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG!” he shouted at her as she pulled the door closed to leave. 

Celeste paused for a moment on the top step to bundle against the cold wind that told her winter wasn't ready to let go just yet. Her hand brushed against the spot on her scar where Azriel had just kissed as she pulled her scarf around her neck. The memory of the lingering touch causing her to smile into its folds. The injury had not always been associated with thoughts of affection. Its origins were brutal and the recovery had been hard. It had taken many years after her escape to even look at herself properly in a mirror again. Over time she had grown to accept her new face. Fleeing her birthplace was the first step in her recovery, but it was the chosen family she had gathered in her new life that had helped heal the scars beyond the physical. 

Thoughts wandering absentmindedly to other scars, she unconsciously stretched the muscles of her back. Two more deep wounds had closed there long ago, their skin rippled and pale, unlike the bright red one on her face. Directly between the shoulder blades, the tight skin eased a bit from the movement and Celeste was reminded of a time when they had ached constantly. It wasn't just from the injury itself but from the absence of their purpose. At one time those muscles had powered an expansive set of feathered wings. A magnificent relic of distant Seraphim ancestors in her bloodline. They had been sandy in color with deep flecks of velvety brown that had once matched her eyes. 

Rolling her shoulders once more, she brushed off the memory of those aches that belonged to another life. Her life before Velaris. The time between then and now had transformed Celeste into a different person, unrecognizable from the scared and trembling thing she had been arriving in a strange new land, similar in ways to her own birthplace but at the same time so very different. She had been born in a land on what the fae of Prythian called the Continent. Settled high up in the northernmost section was a region called Valhallan. Filled with snow capped mountains and harsh, cold winters, much like the ones of Illyria. 

Celeste had had the misfortune of being born into a broken family with no wealth to their name. There had been little time for anything that could bring joy into their household. Celeste’s brother worked into the night most of the time in order to bring in the meager wages to feed them. Her mother was off raising other families' children so that she could provide for her own, which left Celeste alone the majority of the time. With no signs of magical abilities ever developing, Celeste had resigned her days to the domestic chores that kept their household running. By the time she had reached maturity, her mother’s charges had grown up themselves and her brother’s life had been claimed in an accident while working as a bounty hunter. When the chance to leave poverty behind had arisen, Celeste had taken it. 

It wasn’t just the desire for more that had Celeste running from her poverty although it was a considerable factor. She wouldn’t have just jumped into bed with someone for money or else she would have sold her body long before then. It was the desire for love and affection that also drove her decision. And there seemed to be just that in her happenstance romance with Tyrik, at least at first. 

When a respectable looking male Fae had crossed her path in the market one day, she had taken an appreciative glance and carried on. Looking at a handsome male didn’t hurt anyone. Tyrik apparently had other ideas. He was enamored at first sight, weaving through the crowds behind her in order to trail along. Finally approaching her at a market stall he had offered to carry her baskets before insisting on paying for her wares. Celeste had refused politely at first. Then more insistently as Tyrik shoved the coin into the merchant's hands. Tyrik wouldn’t take no as an answer. It was much too late before Celeste realized that Tyrik never took no for an answer.

He had wined and dined her in the days following. He delighted in her astonishment and enjoyment of all the pleasures she could normally never afford. After a whirlwind courtship during his brief stay in Valhallan, Tyrik had insisted on carrying her with him back to his home in the center of the continent. Leaving her mother behind wasn’t easy, but seeing the same opportunity that Celeste did, she had insisted it was for the best and gave her blessings. Over the journey Celeste had convinced herself it was indeed for the best. It wasn’t just about leaving behind her hard life, it was about love too. Of course Tyrik could be pushy. So incredibly pushy, but he had shown her affection and care. She could imagine those feelings blossoming into something deeper over time if she gave it a chance. 

It wasn’t until a couple months after her arrival at his estate that Celeste had realized her mistake. By then it had been too late. She was subjected to his brutality for wrongs he was convinced she had committed – and attempted escape was the ultimate wrong in his eyes. Rumor had it that he had ‘run off’ a number of potential love interests, although where they ran to wasn’t clear. Their whereabouts were never questioned after, no mention of them was ever made. 

Celeste shook off the memories of the past with a shudder, instead choosing to focus on Azriel’s promise of “I’ll see you tonight.” With a small smile she refocused on organizing her thoughts to the hectic day ahead and carried on towards her first patient.

The day passed at a decent pace and progressed productively with no major incidents among her charges. Celeste distractedly rubbed at her temple as she rounded the corner to her final patient. The headache had been building all day and was threatening to reach its boiling point soon. A weekend of strong spirits and little sleep apparently had a longer recovery time than she had remembered in prior times. Before she could glance up to track the path ahead, she inadvertently slammed full bodied into another pedestrian. 

“Oh! Oh gods! I’m so sorry - I wasn’t paying attention. Are you-” Celeste stammered out.

“Ah! Oh-Celeste! Good, I’m glad I caught you.” The figure righted herself into the lithe and willowy healer that she knew as Marin. “I was just hoping to catch you before you trudged all the way up to see Khalen.” Marin tossed her thick, shockingly blond braid over her shoulder as she readjusted her tote and nodded toward the imposing hill ahead of them. “Would hate for you to hike all the way up there just to find out I already saw him.”

Relief washed over Celeste and bloomed evident on her face. “Ah, what a nice surprise Marin, thank you. A good excuse to make an early night of it.” She continued to rub at her temple as a touch of stronger pain radiated down her face. 

“Long weekend huh?” Marin winked and gave Celeste a gentle hip check as she smiled. “I saw you and Az at the party before I had to rush off. I tell you, I wouldn’t mind a male dressed like that keeping me up all night that’s for sure.” 

“Marin!” Celeste cracked a wide radiant smile as she let out a sharp laugh. “It’s not that,” she chuckled, “but two days of drinks, dancing and hardly sleeping isn’t as easy as it used to be.” 

Marin held her suspicious smile. “Yeah, hardly sleeping,” she retorted, winking again. 

Celeste barked out another laugh before wincing in pain at the throb it produced. “Anyway,” she continued. “Thanks again for offering to take my on-call night on Starfall. I owe you.”

“No problem, you know I’ll cash it in sooner than later. My camp rotation is coming up.” All the healers that Celeste managed rotated on a schedule, taking turns with on-call nights and week-long rotations once a month through the Illyrian camps. 

Marin flipped open the top of her canvas tote. “Hey, do you happen to have more of those message pads? I would have written to you but I gave my last one earlier this morning.”

Celeste rummaged in her own bag finding a banded bundle of 3 pads neatly tucked in a pocket, handing them over to Marin and turning to make her way home. “Thanks again, I’ll see you!” she concluded.

Tucking her scarf into her bag as the early spring weather had changed its mind once again, Celeste began the long journey home. Silently she wished for the use of her wings to make the trek quicker. Normally she didn’t mind the walks home. It gave her time to decompress and unwind after long days and enjoy the sights and sounds of the city she had so lovingly called home for so long. Today however the sights and sounds were grating against her already taut nerves caused by this headache. It had now pushed past the boundary of her temples and carried down into her eyes and along her nose. She brushed a cool hand along her brow pressing against the bone for relief, feeling along the rounded edge of her scar as she did. 

She kept her eyes cast downward trying not to catch glances of the sunlight sinking lower in the sky as the light was beginning to send throbs of dull pain through her eyeballs. She was taking quick squints of the path ahead to keep herself from accidentally body slamming someone else when she saw him. Just ahead, leaning sedately against a lamppost, he waited. No longer in his fighting leathers but instead a simple dark shirt and loose pants, wings tucked neatly with one broad shoulder pressed against the post with arms crossed, watching Celeste make her way over the cobblestone. Thin tendrils of shadow swirled low to the ground and snaked out over her boots. 

“Well, if it isn’t my wife.” Az purred lowly. “Lucky meeting you here,” he added, a feline smile spreading across his perfect lips before it hastily dropped and he hurriedly pushed off the post. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His worried eyes followed the movement of Celeste’s hands as she pushed against her brow bone once more and then shielded her eyes from the glaring light behind him trying to peek up at his face. Noting concern, his shadows changed route and slunk up her arms and circled around her neck.

“Just a headache. I’ve had it all day. I think the festivities finally caught up with me.” She tried to flash him a weak smile and ended up wincing instead. This recent burst of pain covered her whole face and made her draw in a sharp breath. 

“Did you take anything?” Azriel’s damaged hands slipped smoothly along Celeste's jaw gently cradling her face. In one smooth movement, he flared out his wings behind him to block out the glaring sun from her face, peering down into her dark eyes, concern pulling down his brow. 

“Yeah, I took something a couple hours ago but it didn’t do much. I think I just need to lie down.” His chilled palms felt almost heavenly against her skin and the errant shadows were now floating along her hairline in a soothing caress. Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch and savored the small relief. 

“Let’s get you home then.” Az’s hands pulled away, taking their relief with them but the shadows lingered. 

“I know winnowing is faster but could we fly instead?” she requested meekly. Rhys had once described winnowing as just like taking a giant step through darkness. While Celeste had winnowed plenty of times with Az and Rhys, it never felt like a big step to her. It felt a little like dropping too quickly in flight and your stomach flopping and always left her slightly dizzy for a second after, which she was certain her poor head couldn't handle right now. At least not without vomiting.

He nodded solemnly before scooping her up into his arms ready to take flight. The kickoff from the ground rattled her brain painfully and she stifled a paltry cry in her throat before nuzzling against his neck and relishing in the darkness it provided. 

Azriel gently pulled her tighter to his chest and whispered an apology into her hair. He didn’t like seeing her feeling unwell and especially not in pain. Thankfully the instances of Celeste being injured or ill had been few and far between but for her to cry out from a headache he knew the pain must be pretty intense. A seed of worry settled between his ribs. 

Arriving at their modest townhouse Azriel circled the upper balcony along the backside of the house making a slow descent. Easing into a landing he touched down as gently as he could without jostling her. Her head was still buried against his neck, breath warm against his skin. He could feel the rapid exhales coursing over his collarbone. Without a word he carried her into the room they shared through the balcony door and headed toward the bed. 

“Bath now? Or later?” he asked as he sat her on the edge of the luxuriously large bed.

“Now please.” Her eyes were now open but she sat there with her shoulders held stiffly and not making any effort to look up at him. The seed of worry wiggled in a little deeper. 

Az regarded her now with the hardened gaze of a true spymaster. “What else hurts?” His eyes roved over her frame noting any tic or tell and collecting the information. The fist she held gripped in her lap with her thumb tucked between her middle and ring finger gave it away. Her thumb rubbing there always gave away her anxiety, but clenched in her fist meant she was trying to hide something. Pain.

“Celeste. Tell me what hurts.” It wasn’t a request. She heard the soft command of his voice and pulled in a pained breath and held it before releasing it slowly.

“My neck. My head and my neck. It hurts to turn. And it’s so bright in here. Can you close the curtains?” Her brows were pinched as she relayed her answer.

“The bath can wait.” He directed her as he released the shadows in silent command so they could draw the curtains closed. “Lie back. I’ll get you some tea and headache powder.” He moved to help ease her down against the pillows. Grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed and draping it over her fully, she curled onto her side and squeezed her eyes closed. 

“No. The powder didn’t help earlier. In the bottom of my bag, the green sachet, brew that in the tea. And hand me the bottle of papavera too.”

“Sweetheart, maybe I should call one of the healers.” The worry had escaped into his tone. Azriel had been married to a healer long enough to understand that papavera was a strong choice for pain. He had used it a couple times himself, once being when his wings were shredded in a storm. 

“Selah is on-call. She’s going to tell you the same thing I am. Besides, she was heading to a birth when I saw her this afternoon so I’m sure she’s still there.”

Az liked Selah. She was quiet and contemplative and quick to learn. She had come to a few training sessions with the priestesses before being recruited into being a healer by Celeste. She said she had shown a lot of promise with a natural inclination to healing. Az knew she was competent and trusted her. Knowing that Selah would have done exactly what Celeste was asking still did not settle that seed of worry that was now taking root. He handed her the bottle of tonic without countering her argument before slipping downstairs to brew the tea. 

The effects of the papavera were almost immediate. Slipping into a blissful darkness of sleep Celeste barely registered the dulling ache that was slowly leaving her body. She felt as if she were spinning. Slowly around in not quite a circle. Over the thump of her steady heart she thought she heard music. Not spinning, dancing. 

The music gradually lowered into an easy tempo. Soft and low against the backdrop of chatter and glasses inside. The band was seated just to the left outside the open double doors leading to the dining room of the House of Wind. 

“Care to dance Shadowsinger?” she murmured, leaning her head back and settling into his chest. Azriel was pressed up against her back, hands making lazy, idle circles along her hips as they both leaned up against the railing on the neighboring balcony. His attention was fixed up in the twilight sky, watching the hundreds of flaming bright stars sweep across the expanse. 

“With you?” He brought his gaze to meet hers tortuously slowly. Meeting her line of sight she swore she saw the reflection of the shooting stars twinkling back at her. “Always.”

She spun in his grasp to face him. One of his siphoned hands laid her delicate fingers over where his shoulder met his chest and then with a smooth caress, slid to the small of her back. With his other hand he slipped her remaining palm into his. 

He beamed down at her hand in his, admiring the matching blue gem she had fashioned to fit the back of her own hand. “That really was a nice touch,” he added modestly, watching the glowing flicker inside. She knew he was being a bit reserved in saying that, but then again that's just the way Azriel was. Reserved. She had seen the gleam of silver tears lining his eyelashes when she made her appearance for the first time to him at the start of the party. She knew what it really meant to him even if he couldn’t quite say it. 

Celeste had planned this dress nearly all year. She had worked diligently with an associate of Amren’s agonizing over the stones cut and color to perfectly match the siphons Azriel normally wore. Each one, all seven, had been carefully measured and set to match exactly. The one on her chest she had settled right on the neckline of the low cut front so it lay perfectly between her breasts along her sternum. Along her shoulders she had them strung on velvet cording to match the dress and hung delicately in the opening of her split sleeves. The same cording threaded through her fingers and tied to a velvet band around her wrist to affix the gemmed siphons on the back of her hands. But the most scandalous of all were the garters she had specially made to hold the brilliant blue stones securely above her knees. Feyre had debated with her whether cutting the hemline short enough to make them visible was entirely appropriate for such a formal party. The hemmed edge grazed just barely to the middle of her bountiful thighs making it nearly impossible to bend at the waist without losing coverage over her backside. After trying on the sample, Nesta and Mor sided with Celeste.

“It’s daring. I love it.” Mor had exclaimed excitedly. “Wear it!”

Nesta had laughed with a sparkling glint in her eye at the first look. “Oh yes. Absolutely. Az is going to combust when he sees you in this.”

And he very nearly did. Celeste had insisted she wanted to get ready in the House of Wind with Nesta and her sisters and told Azriel she would meet him there. They timed their entrance perfectly with the first swings of the party ramping up. As she descended the stairs alone after Nesta and the others had gathered at the bottom, she caught sight of him. His shadows reacted first, racing up the marble steps nearly creating a cyclone around her feet and then zooming between each siphon almost as if inspecting their authenticity. He barely took any notice of them as they returned back to his side, ever loyal, and began whispering around his neck and ears. 

Azriel’s glare darkened as he took her in, his mouth popped slightly open. She could almost feel the heat burning each body part as he raked his vision from one siphon to the next making his way down her curves. Catching sight of the blue jewels tapping lightly against her knees with each step she could almost predict his growling request of ‘Keep those on later.’

Reaching the bottom landing she stood before him at a distance to allow him to take it in further from a closer angle. 

“Celeste, sweetheart” he said roughly. “You look — stunning.” The words were having a hard time finding purchase in his brain as he stumbled along. “Did — did you make this?”

“With some help.” She beamed up at him, noticing the moisture gathered on his lashes and watching him swallow slowly. “It’s not every day you get to have your 100th Starfall with your husband. I figured a memorable year needed a memorable dress.” 

A wide smile crept across his face. “Memorable indeed.” He paused, taking her hand in his and looking over the whole outfit again. Pulling her into his body he murmured through her loose curls into her ear. “Wear it again. Wear it every year. But especially tonight.” She shivered against his hold at his words, scenting night air and fresh cedar rolling off of him.

“There’s one more thing.” Celeste brightened with anticipation. Leaning back in his grip she rapped a gentle tap to the siphon at her breast and studied Azriel’s face as he watched with rapt attention. Slowly the center began to glow a brilliant blue, casting the light over his own outfit. The other gems quickly followed suit until they all carried a gentle flicker of blue light inside them. “They will respond to your touch too,” she added.

Eyes widening with rapture and delight, Azriel threw his head back and laughed a deep full laugh. The sound captured her breath and she stole away the memory to replay later. His laugh was one of the most magnificent things she could ever hear and she never got enough of it.

“Oh, that's brilliant!” Cassian howled, tossing his head back in laughter too. He and Nesta were standing off to the side taking in the show along with the rest of the family. 

Nesta, with a proud warmth on her face, met Celeste’s eye with a knowing look. “I told you.” 

Celeste let out her own burst of laughter. 

Centering herself back into Az’s embrace she peered up into his eyes again. Without another word he moved swiftly to graze his lips against hers, only a slight hesitation before he sank in for a lingering kiss. 

The music was only just a throbbing ebb in the background now. Unable to make sense of the notes anymore, Celeste tried to concentrate on them harder, willing them to take shape into song again. One, two, three beats later she lost them completely until they were just replaced by the steady  thrum of her own heartbeat in her head. Her head. 

Oh yeah, my head. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

She peeled her eyes open carefully expecting the light of morning to assault her senses, but was met with only gray dusk — and shadows. Swirling around her head and spinning through her vision. Their quick movement quickly corrected her earlier thoughts. Her head did still hurt but not as badly. Hesitant to make a move just yet she scanned the bedside to find Azriel lounging back a tufted chair, his long muscular legs propped up and crossed on the ottoman, elbow propped on the arm with his head leaning against his fist. His wings spilled gracefully over the low back of the chair and Celeste had an urge to drag the pads of her fingers across their webbing. He was reading reports of some kind as she studied his face in the deepening twilight before he became aware of her consciousness. 

“Did you know you have really nice lips?” Her voice croaked with sleep as she brought her fingers to her own lips still feeling the lingering memory there.

His head jerked up at the sound of her voice and in the instant it took for him to register her words his eyes brightened and he tossed out a laugh. The sound echoed through Celeste’s head in tandem with what she recollected from her dream. 

“I’ve had a few compliments on them,” he responded smoothly. Bringing his feet to the floor and righting himself, he searched her face for signs of distress. “Feeling better?”

Even though she heard his question she remained silent for a moment. His laugh just now and the one from her dream squeezed at her heart in echo and she mentally squirreled them away deep into the recesses of her mind to savor later. The sound of his joy was something she never tired of.

“You have a nice laugh too,” she said wistfully, her voice croaking once more. 

A lopsided smile hung on his face, reaching his eyes and causing them to wrinkle a bit. “Are you feeling better?” he asked genuinely.

“A little. Yeah. It’s not as bad but it still hurts some.”

He shifted his body, easing himself on the edge of the bed by her knees, pulling his wings into a tight tuck so as not to hit her. “Drink this.” A mug balanced in his wide, textured palm with the handle facing toward her. Celeste shifted and slowly pulled herself to sitting, Azriel’s free hand steadying her with a grip to her upper arm. Settling back against the headboard she claimed the mug with both hands, soaking its warmth into her palms. She sipped the scalding liquid slowly, Az watching every swallow. Unease furrowed his brow as he watched her face pinch and he laid the back of his hand to her forehead feeling for a fever. The shadows bled off his skin and furiously began circling around her face and through her hair.

“I’m fine, really Az. This stuff just tastes awful.” She forced down another large gulp of the drink, knowing it would only taste worse as it cooled. She hoped that this, along with the earlier dose of papavera would knock out the pain that was lingering. Not nearly as pervading as it was before but the pain still pulsed along the bridge of her nose and along her eyebrows. “But can you rein these things in a bit,” she gestured toward the still circling shadows. “They’re making me dizzy.”

Azriel pulled on whatever source of power commanded them and a small trickle returned to his skin. The rest had slowed their circuit but still continued around and around. Narrowing his eyes he attempted again without success. A look of contemplation tightened his features as he reached out toward Celeste. 

“I don’t have a fever Az,” she moved to lean away. “I told you I feel a lot better.” 

“What you actually said was ‘a little’,” he said neutrally, grasping her shoulder to still her. Cupping his hand in front of her face, he placed the side of his palm to her forehead and gathered the misty filaments like dipping a cup into a river. They collected there as they collided with his palm, seemingly reluctant to disobey again. As he pulled away and they slithered back to their master’s arms, one single tendril snaked out from Celeste’s hairline and lazily floated in the space between them. 

Celeste snorted a laugh. “They don’t listen very well do they?”

“No. They don’t.” Az replied distractedly. He scrutinized the errant shadow with a withering look. Halting its lazy drift through the air between them it then returned towards Celeste’s face. Ever so slowly it grazed her forehead again and then quickly shot down the full path of her scar before zipping back to Azriel.

She hissed a sharp inhale through her teeth as she clutched at her face. “Ow! What the hell was that?! What did you do?”

Az made to grab her wrist to pull it away from her face intent on inspecting the damage. “That wasn’t me.”

 As she pulled her own hands from her face he saw nothing amiss. The same bright red, smooth scar in the same state it had always been. Suddenly, that wayward wisp curled around his ear and Azriel’s face shifted to darkened surprise. Celeste wasn’t paying either of them any attention as she ran her finger along the length of her past injury and inspected her hand.

Celeste was now the subject of his scrutiny. He didn’t fully understand the meaning of the shadows message, it spoke not in a true language but more in the way of feelings and intuitions and very occasionally images. Over the centuries he had come to be fluent in the emotions they used most often, especially when it came to his loved ones. But this shadow’s message was too complex without words. It felt like a warning but of what he didn’t know. He held his searing stare as he sat still as stone.

“I think I’d like that bath now,” Celeste tossed the blanket away from her legs and poked at Azriel’s back with her toes. “Scooch.” 

Rising from the bed and turning to assist her, he grabbed her elbow for support as she shimmied off the side of the bed. 

“I told you, I’m fine.” A smile tugging at the corners of her mouth but accepting the help anyway. Her bare feet hit the cool wood and as she unfolded herself to stand, the floor seemed to tilt sharply to the right, her body correcting the shift by careening to the left. Az clamped down on the grip he had of her elbow and encircled her waist with his free arm, wings flaring out to balance them both. 

“Yeah,” he huffed out. “So you said.” Before she could test her balance again, his arm slipped up from her waist and he bent to scoop behind her knees, carrying her into the ample washroom and setting her gingerly to sit on the wide rim of the tub. 

“Stay,” he commanded as he leaned over to turn the taps.

“Yes sir,” she giggled. 

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” he retorted with stone faced seriousness. He tested the water temperature before closing the drain and held up two bottles of bath oil for her to select. 

“You,” she tapped the spearmint one with her nail. “I find you amusing.” She began shedding her clothing from her seated position as he added the oil to the filling tub. Once fully undressed she remained perched on the tub edge and craned her neck back to look into Azriel’s face. “I’m fine.” 

He arched his brow and twisted his mouth into a disbelieving look. “So you said.” 

Wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her cheek against his middle, she inhaled the scent of spearmint as the vapors filled the room. His hands wandered to the sides of her neck, thumbs swiping gently in an arch along her jaw. Ever so gently he began locating the hair pins in her bun at the nape of her neck, nimbly pulling them out one by one. As her hair unraveled, he gathered it in his palm before letting it unfurl down her back. Celeste shivered and made a hum of contentment in her throat. Her dark tresses skimmed the skin at the very bottom of her ribcage. 

“Will you braid it for me?” she tugged at his shirt, untucking one corner, and pressed her lips to the skin just above his waistband. “I don’t feel like washing it tonight. Too much work.” 

He didn’t answer because she knew she didn’t really have to ask. He always braided her hair for her. Noticing the tub was full he leaned sideways, her arms still encircling his waist, and turned off the taps. “C’mon. In,” he said as he untangled himself from her grasp and bent to lift her again. 

“Join me?” she questioned, desire brightening her eyes. 

Azriel lowered her into the steaming water, shadows spreading over the surface like an oil slick. She made another low sound in her throat at the heat enveloping her body. “Please?” 

Now fully seated in the tub she had hooked one finger through the opening between the buttons on his shirt and began unfastening them. 

Az softly stilled her hands with one of his own. “Lay back. Relax. Let me take care of you.” He had gathered her hair in his other hand, holding it above the water and as she laid back he flipped it over the back of the tub. 

“Did you know endorphins are a natural pain reliever?” she quipped, head tilted back against the tub with eyes closed. “You’d be doing me a favor.”

Settling himself on the stool he had grabbed from the vanity, he released a deep rumble of a laugh. The sound caused a broad smile to erupt on Celeste’s face. 

“You have a nice laugh,” she said wistfully, popping open her eyes to meet his sultry hazel ones above her. 

He leaned over her, releasing her hair from his hands and bringing them up to massage her temples. He rested his lips against her forehead and planted a tender kiss. “So you said,” he whispered. 

Following his request to relax, Celeste melted deeper into the tub. She let the warmth of the water ease her aches and lull her into a doze. Azriel had begun brushing through her hair, sending delicious chills over her skin. 

“Not too tight,” she requested as he started to gather her locks into three bundles, her eyes still closed. “It makes it hard to sleep.”

She felt his hands pause for just a fraction too long. He knew what she said wasn’t true. Out of the thousands of times he had braided her hair over the years, tight or not, he had never known her to lose sleep over it. Celeste could practically feel the concern seeping into her scalp. 

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice as limp as her body felt. He didn’t acknowledge her statement, working slowly and smoothly at plaiting her hair, having already decided to get one of the other healers to drop in. 

Taglist - @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos

@weekendlusting @pit-and-the-pen @sarawritestories

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unbound

Part 3 - We're Going To Solstice Dinner --- And We're Gonna Get Married

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 3.7k

Warnings - light swearing

Author's Notes - Last of the background chapters before we head into present time. This is just pure sweet fluff.

Part 1 Part 2

Azriel winnowed to the doorstep of the River House at exactly the time they had planned. Taking a moment to adjust the collar of his dark suit and checking his inner jacket pocket for the small box once more. He gathered a deep breath of chilled winter air into his lungs and exhaled, attempting to steady his frazzled nerves. The exhale escaped him in more of a stutter than he intended, but before his galloping heartbeat could get the best of him, he swung open the door without even bothering to knock. 

“Well, well, well,” came Cassian’s voice from the dining room as Az made his appearance in the foyer. “Look who decided to finally grace us with his presence.” 

Az joined the gathered group scattered around the dining room, sidling over to the bar where Rhys was pouring. “Thought you might need this,” he chuckled, handing Az a half filled glass. “The speculation is in full force already.” Rhys clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. With a low whisper he leaned closer to Az’s ear, where the shadows' own speculation was also in full force. “You alright brother?”

Azriel swallowed slowly, savoring the oaky blend and allowing the burn in his throat to ground him somewhat. “Yeah.”

“Was she free tonight?” Feyre questioned from her seat on the bar sofa. “Is she coming?”

“She had dinner plans already,” Az watched Feyre’s face fall with disappointment. “But she’s coming for gifts after.”

Feyre’s face switched quickly to joy as she clapped her hands and squealed. 

“Honestly, you all act like Shadowsinger has never had a lover before.” Amren posited dryly from her seat next to Mor on the opposite loveseat. 

“He’s never brought one around to meet us before,” Mor stated as she lounged, legs crossed in her silvery gown, her own glass of whiskey in hand. 

“This isn’t just any lover. This is the lover,” Nesta’s slitted eyes met Azriel’s as she joined the conversation from behind Mor. “Isn’t that right Az?”

Azriel felt the sweat crop up along his palms and he readjusted his tenuous hold on the whiskey glass. Before he could gather enough brainpower to respond, Rhys cut in. “Please, let’s not torture the poor guy all night. We will meet her soon enough, she’s coming after dinner.” Rhys’s hand squeezed on Az’s shoulder before vacating. “So let’s eat.”

“Finally,” Cassian sighed, already claiming his seat and rubbing his hands together over the tabletop.

“Is that all your brain thinks about Cassian? Food?” Amren asked with a grimace. 

“Not the only thing dear Amren. As a matter of fact it’s the three F’s,” Cassian beamed a sly smile in Amren’s direction. “Fighting, Food and Fuc—”

“Cassian.” Rhys warned with a snap as Mor guffawed loudly and Feyre cracked out a laugh. Mor ambled over to sit in the seat next to Nesta, Amren having already taken the one to her other side.

“No, slide down Mor.” Nesta instructed, waving her hand. “Celeste is coming too.” 

At the sound of her name Azriel felt his heart pause before slamming back into rhythm with a start. The color had fled from his face a bit causing a reaction from Cassian next to him. 

“Feeling alright there Azzy boy?” Cassian elbowed him harshly. “Having second thoughts?”

Once again Rhys stepped in. “I said enough, Cas.” This time the look wasn’t as lighthearted in Cassian’s direction. His violet eyes darkening, Rhys took his seat at the other end of the table next to his mate. 

Azriel gave an appreciative nod in Rhys' direction. “No. No second thoughts,” he began as he drained the last of his whiskey. “I’m just starving. Kicking your ass earlier today really worked up an appetite.”

A pattering wave of laughter spread around the table as Elain took her seat at the end, right between Amren and Azriel. “I made something special for dessert, aside from Feyre’s cake of course.” She smiled sweetly towards her sister. “For the special occasion.” She swiveled her sweet smile towards Azriel. 

He returned the gesture with a soft countenance. “Thank you Elain. That was very kind.”

A knock rang through the entryway, feeling almost as loud as Azriel’s heartbeat.

“That’s probably Celeste.” Nesta declared as she rose to answer the door. Azriel glanced at his empty glass and silently wished he had brought the bottle to the table with him. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” her lustrous voice carried like a song. “I hope you weren’t waiting on my account.”

“No no, we just sat down. You haven’t missed anything.” Nesta leaned into Celeste’s ear with a conspiratorial grin as she whispered, “His secret lover won’t be coming until after dinner.” Celeste bit down a little too hard on her lip in a smirk as Nesta led her to the seat next to herself.

Settling herself into her seat, Celeste ran a smoothing hand over her silver dress, drawing Azriel’s attention to the flare of her hips. “Great minds think alike,” she commented toward Mor with a nod. 

Noticing the similarly colored dresses they both wore, Mor gave a giggle. “They do! You look stunning Celeste, that’s definitely your color.” Turning to face the rest of the table, “Ok let’s dig in. I’m ready for presents.”

The food made its rotation around the table, passed from plate to plate. The conversations picked up immediately and the buzz filled the room. Azriel sat quietly in observance, his brain also buzzing with no room to think up small talk.

“Wine?” Elain offered as she tipped the bottle toward his empty glass. 

With a flick of his wrist he waved, the shadows covering the opening to his glass before he could answer. “No thank you. I’m fine.” The last thing he needed tonight was to allow his nerves to get the best of him and end up drunk before the grand reveal. 

He risked a quick peek across the table, catching sight of Celeste’s stately profile. The smile that graced her face, crinkling the scar across her nose, was true and bright. Suddenly, her eyes popped open wide as her brows shot up nearly to her hairline. Whatever piece of gossip Nesta was whispering between them must have been piping hot. A few supremely salacious words made their way to Azriel’s ears between the hum of other conversations, color rising along his cheeks at the scene they painted.

“If you think that’s spicy,” Cassian leaned to Az’s shoulder. “You should hear what possibilities Nes has been spinning about you and your lady friend.” Cas winked at his brother with a nudge. Luckily Rhys was far enough down the table to not hear the teasing and give Cassian yet another warning, but Nes did shoot him an icy glare from across the table. A swift bang echoed from under the table just as Cassian yelped, reaching down to rub at his shin with a laugh.

The exclamations and occasional laughs eventually died down around the table to barely a droll as they all sat around satiated on rich food and wine.

Right on schedule, a slip of paper fluttered down from thin air directly above Celeste’s place setting. Reading it with a studied brow, she apologized. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. I have to head out,” she flipped the note pointedly in her hand. “Duty calls.”

Azriel’s heart ramped back up to a gallop as he consciously slipped into his mask of indifference. The smooth execution of her act almost caused a nervous noise to escape him.

“Nothing too serious I hope?” Rhys said with slight concern. 

“Oh no. Nothing terribly urgent. I actually have a moment or two before I need to leave.” She rose swiftly from the table, her hand slipping casually into her anxious tell that Az recognized immediately. “Actually Rhysand, would you mind if I passed along my gifts before I left?”

“Not at all,” he gestured widely with an arm toward the living room. “We were about to head there ourselves.”

At his cue the scrape of chairs sounded, the chatter rising to a hum again. Feyre stepped from Rhys’s side as he headed across the foyer and she held back her steps to fall in line with Az.

“I’m about to burst with anticipation, I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. I’m just so excited to meet her Az,” she panted out in a rush. Azriel extended his elbow in a request to escort Feyre across the short distance.

“Soon,” he said richly. “Very soon.”

Knowing that Celeste hadn’t brought gifts for everyone since she was really only close with Nesta and Mor, they all milled about in preparation to wait for their impending guest.

Nesta and Mor had seated themselves next to each other on the sofa. Az directed Feyre into the third seat on the cushions, as he took a leaning seat on the arm of the furniture. Cas and Rhys were chatting casually next to the armchair where Elain sat placidly, tiny Amren nearly being engulfed in the one next to her. Celeste swept over to the window where the pile of presents had materialized with Rhys’ magic as soon as they had entered the room.

Plucking an armful from the top of the stack she deftly turned to pass them out.

“To our gracious hosts for gathering us all here tonight,” two packages were handed out to the mates. Feyre carefully opened the petite package, thanking Celeste gratefully for the shimmering paint additive to create glimmering paints.

“It’s wonderful, Celeste. Thank you.” Rhys’ thanks carried as he held up a dark amber liquid in a beautiful crystal cut bottle.

Azriels attention was elsewhere as his shadows pulled against the mental leash he was holding them on, wanting to reach out and gather around Celeste as she stood so close. She watched Nesta and Mor open equally thoughtful gifts, but his eye caught the movement of her hand. Thumb tucked between her fingers worrying at the webbing between them. Until tonight, it was something he hadn’t seen her do in months.

This is it. This is it. This is it.

His heart and his shadows pulsed to the thoughts. At just the right moment, a small thump sounded in the quiet and another small package fell onto the large pile by the window.

“Is that my birthday present?” Feyre asked her mate with glee in her eye. Rhys just shrugged, corners of his mouth pulled down as he answered. “That wasn’t me.”

Nesta had already leaned down and held the positively tiny box in her palm. “It has your name on it.” She passed the package off to Celeste with a quizzical look crossing her brow. 

“Whose it from?” asked Mor, with an equally puzzled quirk.

“I don’t know,” a cautious smile blooming across her face. “It doesn’t say.” Without waiting for any prompting, she tore off the scrap of paper and revealed a small cobalt velvet box. By this point, the mention of a mysterious gifter had gained interest of the entire party as they turned their attention to the tiny package as well.

This is it. This is it. This is it. 

Celeste’s hands shook slightly as she touched the soft crush of the fabric exterior. Even though this plan had been mostly her idea and she knew what was happening, she still felt like she was about to jump out of her skin. 

Rocking the top of the box back on smooth hinges, she gasped. A truly shocked and surprised gasp. What she had expected to be nestled in the tiny ring box were the simple gold bands that Azriel had rushed off to buy at the very last minute in preparation for this plan. 

Instead what she saw glittering next to the gold band meant for Az, was a twined band of beautiful obsidian and pristine white gold. Set between the intersecting waves of each color, seven flecks of sapphire blue shimmered around the entire ring. Unbeknownst to Celeste, he had switched out the ring with the one he had been secretly stashing in his top dresser drawer for the last six months. 

“What is it?” asked Elain, her hand laid on her chest in anticipation at Celeste’s shock.

“Who. Is. It. From?” Mor practically shouted, the suspense nearly killing her. 

All the bodies in the room had collectively begun holding their breath without even realizing it.

Instead of the racing heart and pounding chest he had expected to feel in this moment, the only thing Azriel felt was peace and the pull of his shadows trying to rush to Celeste’s frame. Holding them back for just a moment longer he righted himself from his perch on the sofa arm and with a flare of his wings he stepped forward to meet her in the middle of the room.

“It’s from me,” his deep voice rang clear. His scarred hand swiftly plucked the box from Celeste’s open palm and he removed the ring, setting the box on the low table to his right. Grasping her left hand he carefully slipped the ring over her thumb, following the tradition of her birthplace. The shadows now released from their leash, they swept furiously over their joined hands. “To my sweetheart on her first Solstice – as my wife .” 

Everyone watched the scene playing out, their racing thoughts still catching up to the moment they had just witnessed. Before anyone could utter a single noise, Az had slipped one arm around Celeste’s waist, the other reaching into her hair along her neck and swooped in for a burning kiss. 

He felt her knees go weak as he deepened into the kiss, supporting her body with the arm encircling around her back. Drawing back, he pressed his forehead against hers. Gasps and voices erupted around them, but he just stood there gazing into Celeste’s eyes, tears cresting over her lashes.  

“Breathe,” Az whispered against her temple.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Celeste leaned briefly from his grasp. Her knees still a little shaky as she grabbed the box and pulled out the band. Turning back into Az’s hold, she slipped it over his own thumb.

“Happy Solstice Az – my husband.” The last two words came out in a trembling whisper as her tears flowed in earnest now. 

“Ok. I’ll admit, I didn’t know it this time,” Mor threw up her hands in defeat. 

Nesta, forgoing her normally severe resting face, held a mirthful smile. “Oh this is too good. I need to know everything,” she laughed. “Pronto.” 

Feyre had jumped from her seat, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hands clasped by her throat and tears in her eyes. “You two? The whole time?! Oh gods. Oh Az—Celeste. I can't believe it–I–I.”

“What she’s trying to say,” Rhys said, ringing the room to face the happy couple. “Is we are thrilled for you both. Congratulations.” His eyes met Az’s with loving words that needn’t be spoken. “What a reveal,” he chuffed out. 

“How wonderful!” Elain exclaimed breathily as she clutched onto Amren’s arm from her seat.

“Nicely done, Shadowsinger.” Amren piped up from her seat, still sitting primly with no sign of surprise upon her face, but a shimmering silver could be seen glinting from her lower lashes. “Very nicely done.”

“It was all her idea really,” Az credited as he turned his eyes back to Celeste’s face where she held a smile big enough to make her cheeks ache. 

“I never knew you were such a romantic, Amren.” Rhys teased.

“Enough out of you, boy.” She glared, attempting to swipe away the wetness before anyone else noticed. 

The only one who hadn’t said anything, still standing to the side in open mouth surprise, was Cassian. Finally jump-starting his brain into working, he rounded a path around Rhys and approached the couple. With arms spread wide, he practically jerked Azriel into a bone crushing hug. 

“Congrats brother,” he whispered tearfully into Az’s ear. “I am so very happy for you.” 

Azriel’s hold on Celeste fell as he returned his brother’s affection. Cassian held on a few moments more before pulling back promptly and switching his attention to Celeste. Before Azriel could react, Cas had grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her in, planting a loud smacking kiss to her cheek. “Welcome to the family, Celeste. It’s a hell of a ride.” 

A low growl left Azriel’s chest but it was quickly dissipated by the astonishingly luminous laugh that burst out of Celeste. 

“Thank you, Cassian. I look forward to spending more time in your company,” she managed to get out through her laughter. 

“Ha!” Cas shot out, roughly clapping a hand on Celeste’s shoulder. “I knew I liked you.”

Hours passed and the mood in the room had mellowed into a comfortably tired rhythm of twilight. Wrapping paper littered the floor and various surfaces and open gifts piled in front of their receivers. Amren, Mor and Elain had already called it a night, leaving just the couples gathered in the heat emanating from the fireplace. Celeste was tucked into Azriel's side on the sofa next to him and engaged in a lively conversation with Nesta who was perched on Cassian’s lap in the armchair next to them. Feyre and Rhys just listened intently, an occasional word between them as their hands hung joined between their two seats. 

Azriel very much wanted to call it a night as well considering it was technically their wedding night but as he watched the happiness on his wife’s face in the firelight he decided he could wait just a bit longer. They had forever after all. As he watched the light reflected in Celeste’s eyes, he was flooded with a sudden and intense pull from the depths of the chasm inside him. A feeling of happiness and contentment and a twinge of melancholy. 

Trying to hide the burn that welled up in his throat and threatened to reach his eyes, Az used the pause in conversation to whisper against Celeste’s hair.

“And where is this other part of my present?”

She shot upright exclaiming, “I forgot all about it!” Leaning toward the low table, she snatched her tiny purse and rummaged inside, pulling out a package about the length of her hand. “Here,” she smiled wickedly as she plopped it in his hand.

Az pulled the twine bow and ran his thick finger through the paper, tearing it in one large rip. He tipped the contents of the box into his palm to reveal a heavily weighted, golden cup. Rotating it around, he read the inscription written across the platformed stand attached to the bottom. 

“I heard it's tradition to give the trophy away every year,” Celeste said mellowly. “So I thought you might want one to keep. It seemed like too lucky a number to not commemorate.”

The burn had already breached past his throat and into his eyes and he no longer tried to rein it in. He pushed out a small choked laugh between the tears. 

Swiveling to look at Celeste directly, Az met her gaze. “Yeah. Turns out it was very lucky.”

Leaning in, Celeste brushed a soft kiss to his lips before he deepened it with fervor. 

“Aw Az, it looks like someone did bet on you after all!” Cassian crooned from beside him as the sisters released pattering giggles. Azriel’s lips still pressed to hers, Celeste joined in with a giggle of her own. 

“Well, actually–” she pulled away sheepishly. “I waited until I knew you won before I had them finish the engraving.”

Jerking back slightly in surprise, Az’s eyebrows shot up in amusement before he twisted them into theatrical pain and clutched at his chest.

“Solidarity brother!” Cas shouted with a barking laugh.

This time it was Azriel’s booming laugh that rang loud, joining in the resounding ones of his brothers. Celeste felt her own twinge low in her gut as she basked in the sound, tucking it away in her memory for keeps.

Taglist - @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unbound

Part 2 - Don't Pull Away

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 3.2k

Warnings - angst, emotional turmoil (Az), mentions of past abuse, fade to black scene

Author's Notes - this continues the background portion of the series (one more after this before we get into the main portion of the plot)

Part 1

Keeping their courtship a secret for as long as they had certainly hadn’t been easy, especially since their two closest friends were mated to each other. When Celeste had broached the topic of breaking the news of their courtship months ago, he had rebuffed the suggestion.

“I’m not ready. Not just yet,” he had stated.

“Why?” she questioned seriously. “It’s been nearly six months since we’ve become serious, even longer if we count all the dates we went on before then. I’m not sure we will be able to hide it for much longer.”

She had started masking her scent in public after they had spent time with each other and suggested he should do the same. It was an idea she sprouted all on her own, but his emotions about it were complicated. 

There was no sadness in her tone, just curiosity. She had learned very quickly that Azriel was an extremely private male and sharing his feelings didn’t come easy to him. She never pushed too hard or pried too deeply until she was sure he was ready. 

“Nesta keeps trying to set me up on dates and I’m running out of excuses.” She saw him bristle at the thought before adding, “Plus, I don’t really like lying to my friend.”

Azriel’s skin felt tight at the mention of her dating other males. He had met a few of the casual dates of her past after Nesta had paired Celeste up before he had started courting her. Nesta’s choice in her own mate was infinitely better than the taste she had in choosing for her friends.

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered, the shadows tightening around his hand in nearly one fluid sheet as he flexed his hands into fist. “I’m just–I’m scared.” He sighed heavily, avoiding her eyes.

“Of what?” Celeste asked softly. While Azriel was definitely a private soul, Celeste was much more direct. She was gentle and empathetic but if she wanted to know something, she asked. It was something Az was still very much getting used to. She hardly ever skirted around things which was probably why her and Nesta had become such fast friends. 

“I don’t really know. It’s just-” the words seemed to escape him and the whiffs of chatter the shadows kept swirling around his ears didn’t help. His brain felt like a tangle of knots. 

“I think you do know. It’s in there,” Celeste leaned forward from where she sat on the sofa next to him, feet tucked under her and facing him, her knees pressed into his hip as she reached a hand forward and laid it on his chest. “Take your time.” She peered at him casually as if they had all the time in the world, head resting on her fist as her arm was propped on the sofa back.

Azriel stared down at the hand on his chest and watched as his shadows abandoned their perch along his ears and whirled in a pulsing ring around her wrist. He wasn’t sure if the hard thud of his pulse was because of Celeste’s proximity or her questioning. He centered his breathing to the shadow’s beat before trying again. “I’m scared because – once it’s out there we can’t take it back.” He met her hooded focus with a watery look of his own. Her countenance didn’t flinch. She understood what he wasn’t saying but guided him anyway.

“Would you want to? Take it back?” Her thumb began a slow rhythm against his shirtfront in time with the shadows that still lingered there. 

“No,” he answered hastily. “No, of course not. But–once we put it out there–” Azriel attempted to center his breaths again but only ended up with one shuddering inhale. “Once it’s out there it can be taken away.”

Celeste let him collect his focus for a moment. After a pause in silence she moved her hand from his chest and drew one finger down the side of his jaw, applying slight pressure to get him to turn to her. “Azriel,” she breathed out and he shuddered, his wings shaking the furniture. “It could be taken away now too.” 

The thought so simple, so plain and obvious now that it was spoken aloud, had never occurred to him. The idea that keeping this a secret meant it was safe and protected fractured in his mind. His eyes widened and she resumed the pacing of her thumb, this time along his cheek. 

“Just because we keep it hidden doesn’t mean it can’t be taken away from us,” she continued gently. “If a time of hardship happens to come, wouldn’t you want to suffer with people around who love you rather than suffering alone?” She had ceased her movements, the shadows stilling at the same second she did. 

Azriel sat there feeling like she had just broken open his chest and read the darkness inside like a book, a feeling he was very much not used to. Suffering alone was all he had known. The only suffering he shared, the only suffering he had done with others was because something happened to them collectively and even then he avoided sharing his own grief. Anything that had ever happened to him and him alone was always insulated. Always his and no one else’s. 

Celeste had known where to pluck out that mess of knots from because she had once battled the same fight. She had been subjected to terrible things at Tyrik’s hand in the past and then left alone and broken. Suffering in isolation with no one to console or comfort her had nearly been as hard as the physical healing. The life she was leading now, the one she had nearly lost her life for, was once her greatest wish. The friends and family she was now surrounded with had been what brought her that inner peace. Without them she didn’t want to imagine the mess of a person she could have become. 

Azriel’s focus zoned out while he pulled on that mind tangle Celeste had brought to the surface, feeling for the loose end with which to unravel it. She swore she could almost hear the gears working in his mind.

“There it is,” she whispered softly against his other cheek. “I told you it was in there,” she held herself there, Azriel feeling her warm breath brush across his face before she placed a gentle kiss to the spot and sat up straight.

“We can wait,” She stated matter of factly. “We don’t have to tell anyone just yet.”

Two days later, Azriel was sent up to Windhaven for an extended trip. This was the same place that had brought him so much suffering in his early life but also brought him so much joy in bringing him his brothers. The juxtaposition had always been a confusing one to Azriel, but usually when the feelings cropped up he had just ignored them. Shoved them deep down inside that darkness to examine later. Often, later never came. This time however, the chasm that Celeste had ripped open was still raw and shoving those creeping feelings down did nothing but to spit them back out from where she had read him. 

For the entirety of the first week, he took to the training ring every morning and every night, pushing himself against the wall of exhaustion with defense and weapons and weight training. When that didn’t work he laid in bed at night and held that tangle in his mind’s eye, just staring at it until sleep took him. 

Nearly three weeks into his stay, Celeste had arrived for a healer camp rotation. Azriel had been shocked to see the outline of her ample frame trudging alongside Rhys from the camp boundary where they had winnowed in. 

Seeing as the attitude towards females in the war camp wasn’t exactly welcoming, chaperones were a required necessity for all healers rotating through the camps. Azriel had stepped in to shadow Celeste on all her patient visits. 

“Your camp rotation wasn’t for another two months.” He pointed out when they were alone the next morning in the rickety cabin that was used as a clinic. Celeste was shuffling around preparing supplies, laying out bandages and tonics on a tray. 

“Well,” she said with her back facing him. “When you didn’t come home I figured I would come to you.”

Home. The word made that chasm in his chest twitch. 

“I told you I was staying longer.” He said from the corner where he had been for the last hour.  “You really didn’t need to change your schedule for me.”

Celeste had turned now to face him, staring directly into his eyes unflinching. “Yeah, a note. I have to miss our date this weekend. I am needed here a bit longer. I’ll be in touch. You got your point across alright.”

He had no response to that but his mouth twitched as he noticed her disappointment in his silence. Approaching him slowly from across the room, she placed her hand directly over the raw soul wound he could still feel inside him.

“Don’t push me away, Az.” She started softly as she leaned into her hand and tilted her head back to keep his gaze. “Take whatever time you need to work out whatever it is running through your head but please–please don’t pull away. Not from me.”

Celeste calling him out was never comfortable and she certainly had a knack for doing it. Rhys and Cassian loved him as a brother. Az knew that without a doubt but even they let him push away and isolate whenever his head became too loud with the thoughts he didn’t want to face. They didn’t poke and question. Celeste on the other hand spoke those thoughts aloud. She prodded deftly and guided gently. Pushing her away was the last thing Azriel wanted. He wanted her close by at all times, within his sight and tucked into his arms. He wanted all her mornings and afternoons and nights, especially her nights, for the rest of his days.

He spent his next few days at the camp standing quietly in her company, watching her nimble hands set bones, dress wounds and offer soothing touches of comfort. Often he noticed, when her work allowed them to reside in close enough quarters, that his shadows had begun choosing to gather around her remedying presence rather than swirl around in his brooding aura.

One afternoon, as Celeste had just dismissed the last patient from the clinic cabin, she began tidying up and gathering her supplies to prepare for the next day.

“Sometimes I wonder why we even have camp rotations,” she pondered aloud. “Most of the injuries I treat here aren’t accidents and most of the patients only allow me to treat the most severe ones.”

The patient she had just dismissed had done just that. Coming in for a shredded wing, he had an obviously broken arm in a dirty sling. The splint taped around his forearm had clearly been rushed and the bone badly set. But he had just clutched the arm tightly to his abdomen, outright refusing Celeste’s offer to access and reset it. “Just the wing,” he had said, the most important thing to an Illyrian aside from his siphons.

“It’s to teach them a lesson,” Azriel answered in monotone from the corner, shadows nearly obscuring him from view. 

“And what kind of lesson is that?” Celeste responded snidely, not bothering to look up from her duty. “That they can be broken in more ways than one?”

He knew instantly that she was hinting pointedly at her own experience with being broken. In more ways than one. Azriel didn’t answer as he worked to tamp down the anger at the thought. His wings twitched with tension as that tangle bumped against the shields of his mind. 

After a beat of silence she added, peering over into that darkened corner. “And do you agree with their teaching methods?” 

Her eye line didn’t waver as she waited for his response, even as the shadows thickened and briefly covered him completely.

How could he defend the brutality that bred fierce warriors and the violence that taught them to exact their powers into weapons? How could he defend that as one of the warriors who knew first hand, to his sweet Celeste who had experienced the same treatment for different reasons? But were the reasons really that different? In both cases the desired result was the same - obedience. In the end he had come out a soldier, but Celeste had just ended up broken. His feelings about Windhaven had been conflicted since childhood but adding Celeste into the equation had made them impossible. The tangle inside his head slammed against the obsidian fortress of his mind.

“No. I don’t.” His quiet answer seemed to satisfy her although her face remained furrowed in thought. 

A long tense bout of silence stretched between them with only the sound of her shuffling as she rolled bandages, the sun settling lower in the sky outside the window.

“Is that what happened to your hands?” She broke the silence, her voice strained.  “A lesson?” Her own hands had stilled before her but her head remained staring at the table. 

An unnaturally eerie stillness permeated not just his body, but the entire room. The shadows had revealed him fully and rushed to swirl madly around the hands she spoke of. He was unaware of how long it took him to answer. 

“No,” Azriel finally uttered gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest to hide the swirling shadows. “That was my brothers.”

Through all the time they had known each other and throughout their courtship of the last months, Celeste had never commented on or shied away from his brutal scars. She often stroked a touch over them or swept her thumb across them, following their grooves with a finger like reading words on a page, but she had never asked about them. 

Seeing the brief confusion flash over her features he quickly added. “Not them. Not Rhys and Cas.” He cleared his throat thickly. “My real brothers. Half-brothers.”

She didn’t ask any more questions of his confession, instead she looked at him pointedly and said, “From what I see, Cas and Rhys are the only real brothers.” 

That night he had laid there staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, the mess of a tangle laying squarely in his mind’s eye. At some point he gave up on contemplating the knots and decided instead to start pulling. Pulling and twisting and feeling. The things that surfaced inside him had been buried for so long that they had grown fangs. Fangs and claws and venom. As he pulled on that gods forsaken loose end, those wretched things followed, but as they emerged into the light that Celeste’s chasm had created, he began to see they weren’t so fearsome after all. Even though they snapped and snarled, hissed and spit, Azriel could feel that they would be able to be tamed in time. They didn’t need to be defeated. They were just as scared as he was. They had only grown fangs because he had refused them the kindness of trying and instead shoved them away. 

After what felt like an eternity, he had laid there in the barely lightening hours of pre-dawn, holding up that loose end, the tangle no longer a tangle but now just a string, and he had cried. Huge heaving sobs wracking his body and bringing him to his knees.

Oblivious to the time Azriel trekked the distance to the healer's quarters and banged the side of his fist upon the door. It took a few minutes for Celeste to rouse herself from sleep before the door cracked open a fraction and her velvety dark eyes peered out. 

“Az?” she questioned as she pulled the door fully open. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” She stood there clasping her robe closed and taking in his appearance. His face was tense and rubbed swollen from crying, eyes red and puffy. The wind had ravaged his hair into a mess of dark curls falling into his face and the look in his hazel eyes was stricken. 

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him over the threshold, “Az, tell me you are alright,” she reached up to grab his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Are you hurt?” The warmth of her touch banished the cold.

Still no answer left him, instead he mirrored her movement, grabbing her face in his ridged hands. She gasped from the shock of the wind ravaged chill that seeped into her skin, the shadows adding to her startle with a misty chill of their own as they seeped from his fingertips and down the back of her neck. Before she could close her mouth he swept his head down and claimed a hard sensual kiss. 

He felt the heat of her face flood under his palms as a fierce color rose to her cheeks and it was his turn to gasp. She responded with a tenderly soft flick of her tongue against his teeth, sinking into his body and her hands slipping to his chest as she continued to reciprocate his kiss. 

Reluctantly, Azriel pulled back and seared into her gaze with a determined look. 

“I’m ready,” he said, his voice rasped from crying.

She shimmied against him with a gentle pressure from her thigh to the front of him. “I can tell,” she panted out a laugh.

“No – that’s not what–”

“I know what you meant,” she breathed out in another whispery laugh. “But for now–for just this minute–it can wait,” and she pushed the door closed, tightly shutting out the cold night wind. 

As the fateful hour of Solstice dinner approached, Celeste stood adjusting the silver fabric of her dress inside the closet-sized bathroom of her apartment. Selecting a glittering pair of dangling starry earrings, she tilted her head and began placing them in her ears.

“Mmm,” a sultry purr rumbled from behind her. “You look amazing in that.” Azriel slipped in behind her having just returned from his trip to his townhouse. With an arm around her waist he tucked his wings as tight as they would go in the cramped space. With her hair swept up and pinned into a loose pile, he couldn’t resist nuzzling into her exposed neck. Shadows began lazily exploring the twists and turns of her hair strands, landing curiously around her hairpins as he voiced, “I’m heading out now.”

“Okay,” she said, tilting her head to lean into his. “I’ll be behind you shortly. I just have to pick up the last part of your gift on the way.”

“Hmm,’ he purred again, propping his chin on her shoulder. “I thought I knew what my gift was already.”

“Believe it or not,” she smiled brightly in the mirror's reflection. “Even the famed spymaster of the Night Court can still be surprised.”

“Famed huh?” he chuckled into her ear lightly. 

A shiver ran down her spine as she swatted at the side of his face teasingly. “Go already. You’re going to be late.” Az released his arm from her waist and straightened as smoothly as he could in the close quarters. 

“We are moving you out of here. Tomorrow. First thing in the morning," he said with irritation as his wing bumped against the door.

Celeste’s merry laugh filled the small space with sound. “Yeah, the Illyrian compliant apartments were a bit out of my price range,” she jested.

With Az still taking up the doorway it was impossible to turn around to face him. Celeste instead caught his attention in the mirror, “Az,” she paused as his eyes met her reflection. “I love you.”

She saw muscles of his face relax and soften from the usually neutral expression as a sweet smile spread, reaching his eyes with a crinkle. “I love you too, Celeste.”

Taglist - @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unbound

Part One - They Don't Know About Us

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 4.2k

Authors Note - This is part one of a continuing series. This first part is establishing background. Fluffy with a pinch of angst.

Warnings - references to past domestic abuse/injury, some sexual innuendo.

“I hope you’re prepared to be annihilated this year Az,” Rhys drawled as he pulled gloves over his slender hands. “And please — let’s refrain from being petty in your concession speech.” 

Azriel flashed a furtive smile. “I’m not even worried. Cassian’s the sore loser – not me.”

“I am not!” Cassian lashed out a sideways punch at Az’s shoulder, which he effortlessly dodged before kicking out and knocking Cassian leg right from under him.

Cas landed in a hard wallop on his back onto the snow covered ground. “Hey! Watch the wings!” With a nimble move he popped straight to standing again and shook the icy crystals from his webbed appendages. “What’s the count up to now anyway?” He directed at Azriel. “Three hundred and thirty something isn’t it?”

“Three hundred and thirty three this year. When I win.” Az adjusted his own winter leathers in preparation to begin. “Feels like a lucky number,” he added, rubbing his siphon clad hands together and blowing into them, his shadows responding to his breath and scattered before him.

“You know what they say Az, good things come in threes.” Cassian punched out again, hitting both Az and Rhys in the shoulders in jest, his boisterous laugh rang out in echo across the empty clearing they stood along the edge of. 

Rhys let the punch land, rocking back slightly and laughing in return. “Alright, we all know the rules here. Let’s get this show started.”

“Well–what’s the verdict?” Feyre exclaimed, popping her head up from the sofa as the three imposing Illyrians filed into the River House foyer. “Do you have a surprise for me?” She narrowed a questioning look at her mate who stood behind the sofa, hands clasped behind him. Rhys’ normally hidden wings were out on full display which she assumed was a sign of the news. 

“My money is on Cassian,” said Mor cooly from where she was painting her nails a shocking red on the coffee table. 

Rhys gave a sly noncommittal nod. “Hmm. I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders without releasing his grasp behind him. 

“C’mon! Let me see!” Feyre kneeled on the sofa seat reaching over the back and playfully grabbing at Rhys’ arms to get a look at his hands. He halfheartedly attempted to evade her before bringing up his hands showing empty palms. 

“Sorry darling, maybe next year.” He bent over and planted a wet kiss in the center of her forehead. 

“I knew it!” shouted Mor. “Pay up Nes.” She held her freshly manicured hand out toward Nesta sitting in the chair nearby. Nes slid an icy glance up from the pages of her novel and then immediately went back to reading.

“Wait–you bet against me?!” Cassian wailed, flying up from his slouch in the other armchair. “Your own mate?! Gods spare me!” He promptly flopped back into the seat, adjusting his wings with a loud thump.

Feyre immediately snapped her gaze back and forth between Cassian and Azriel, who had nipped into the dining room to snag one of Elain’s pastries. 

“Alright, fess up you two. I want my present.” Feyre huffed, a dramatic pout and hands on hips like a toddler.

The ridiculous tradition had begun one year when Rhys got the idea to craft a trophy for the winner of the annual Solstice snowball fight, which just happened to be him that particular year. The tiny pewter cup had been plastered with gold foil and wrapped into a lavish package which Rhys had then presented to his mate as her birthday gift. He had tried to pass it off as his only gift before whipping out a lovely necklace to adorn Feyre’s neck instead. Every year since, the tiny cup had been passed off from that year’s winner to Feyre as her first official birthday gift of the year. Feyre, Mor and Nesta however had started their own tradition of betting money on who they predicted would be the winner. 

Sauntering past the sofa arm and settling into the empty half, Azriel balanced his pastry with one hand and reached into his leather’s chest pocket with the other. 

“Happy Birthday Feyre,” he said quietly with a smile and passed off the cup into her waiting hands. The darkened strands of shadow curled excitedly around the small gift as if they were showing it off before quickly returning to his fingers.

“Oh Az! Congrats! You shouldn’t have,” she said with mock humility. “No but really,” her face turned serious. “You shouldn’t have. I’ll never hear the end of it.” Feyre shot her mate a teasing look as Az threw his head back and laughed, mouth still full of pastry.

“And you thought I was the sore loser.” Cassian grumbled playfully.

“Oh Cas,” Feyre started gently, “if it makes you feel any better my money was on you too.”

Rhys choked in surprise on the whiskey he was sipping as he leaned on the mantle. “What the fuck! Seriously Feyre?” 

Az threw his head back further this time, nearly dropping the plate from his lap and let loose a deep belly laugh. 

From the other side of the room Cas pointed his fist at Rhys as if to bump it from a distance. “Solidarity brother.” Turning his attention to his other brother on the sofa, “And I don’t know what you find so funny over there. In case you didn’t notice – that means no one bet on you.”

Nesta had finally closed her book, nestling it next to her in the chair and joined the conversation. “Az was too obvious a choice,” she stated, her hard face showing no sign of a smile. “Betting on the underdogs gives a higher payout.” 

Cassian made a throaty gurgling noise as he mimed stabbing himself in the heart and flexed his wrist. “Twist a little harder, why don’t you Nes.” 

“Underdog huh?” Rhys quipped from over his whiskey glass, his violet eyes flaring a bit.

“I would have won, you know,” Cassian argued. “If it wasn’t for Az’s unfair advantage I would have totally been victorious.”

“And what exactly was my ‘unfair advantage’ Cas?” Snaking lines of shadow writhed down his legs as Azriel lengthened his posture into a relaxed lounge.

“C’mon brother. Don’t play dumb. It’s time to fess up.” Cassian’s eyes twinkled with hints of a secret knowledge. 

“I assure you, I have no idea what you are talking about,” Az answered lazily.

Mor began fanning her hands in the air in order to dry the second coat of her polish. “Let’s hear it then, Cassian. If there was foul play we should know.” 

“I think Az was right, Cassian.” Rhys chuckled to himself. “You are the sore loser.”

“Oh c'mon Rhysie darling,” Cassian teased. “I know a mating bond chafe when I see one. I remember ours well.”

Everything stopped. Any rustling or whispering or shifting of bodies abruptly halted. Mor’s fanning paused in mid-air, hands hanging comically in front of her face. Even breathing seemed to be on pause. At least it was for Azriel, as all eyes in the room fell upon him. He didn’t even notice the shushing whisper of his shadows curled around his face trying to tell him something because all he could hear was the slamming of his heartbeat in his ears. And he wasn’t convinced that everyone else couldn't hear it either.  

“What exactly do you mean by chafe, Cassian?” Nesta broke in.

“Oh, so you can give it but you can’t take it?” Cassian quipped as he stood to cross the room. “I don’t mean anything by it, my love.” Dipping his frame he extended his arms in an attempt to embrace his mate. She very quickly shot out one palm, planting it in the center of his chest and shoved. 

“And what exactly about me having a mating bond would be unfair?” Azriel rumbled darkly, sitting rigidly upright now.

Cassian’s head whipped in Azriel’s direction. “That’s not what I meant,” he said tensely as he made his way back to his chair next to the sofa. Then softening his voice, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Cas reached out and placed a hand to Az’s knee.

“So what did you mean?” Az responded, his tone menacing.

“All I meant was that with Rhys and I, we all knew about our bonds before the annual fight. We all knew what we were walking into. You could have told us in advance,” Cassian’s hand squeezed Az’s knee gently. “Level the playing field a bit.” Cassian winked with a laugh for the benefit of everyone listening, but leaned in with another squeeze. Lowering his voice to a soft pitch he said, “You could have told us.” He smiled sadly before dropping his hand and Azriel’s gaze.

“A mating bond?” Feyre asked astounded. “Az? Is it true?”

“Who is she? Do we know her?” Mor chimed in quick succession.

“A secret lover? How scandalous. How long have you been hiding her away?” Nesta asked dreamily, thinking what a good plot to a romance novel this would make.

The questions erupted in a flurry. 

“There is no bond.” Azriel said flatly, fortifying his face into an unreadable cover.

Feyre sighed out the breath she had been holding and rubbed her hand on Azriel’s forearm. Mor’s fanning resumed at a slower pace, her eyes still fixed on Azriel gauging his mood. Rhys still stood languidly against the mantle wearing a similarly unreadable mask.

“No bond–,” Nesta said lowly. “But there is someone isn’t there?” Her hard stare penetrated into Azriel as he met it. Ever since he had seen her emerge from that bog long ago as a frightful Goddess of Death, he swore she could see things in him that no one else could. 

It was true he had once yearned for a mating bond so badly that he thought he’d rather retreat into his own tortured mind than live without one. But the time after meeting his love had changed that. From the time she had first started entering his circle as an acquaintance to the time they were inseparable as lovers, Azriel had come to find that she was worth more than every mating bond he was never granted.

He held Nesta’s stare just a moment too long. A shiver spread through his wings and he pulled a sharp inhale through his nose. There was no use lying about it. He had indeed kept her a secret for some time now but they had both already agreed to make it public, they just hadn’t exactly decided when yet. 

The length of time it took Azriel to answer Nesta’s question led all the eyes in the room to shift back to him. 

“Yes.” Azriel said and heard Mor gasp, also noticing how Rhys’ whiskey glass remained touching his lips but he wasn’t swallowing. “There is someone.”

“I knew it.” Mor whispered breathlessly.

“No you didn’t, Mor,” Feyre shot. “You always say that.” Turning to Azriel next to her she flashed him a beautifully authentic smile. “We are happy for you Az. I can’t wait to meet her.”

Rhys had broken his frozen stance and moved lithely over to the small bar cart in the corner. He held a glass out to Cassian and then turned to do the same to Azriel. “We are very happy for you Az,” he offered out the heavy crystal whiskey glass matching the one in his own hand. “Cheers brother.”

Azriel accepted the drink, tipping it gently towards the one in Rhys’ hand until they clinked together. 

“May the Cauldron bless you both,” Cassian added genuinely as the motion of tapping glasses was repeated between them.

“You should invite her to Solstice dinner tonight.” Mor uttered from the floor.

“Yes!” squealed Feyre “Az, invite her! If she is free that is.”

Az brought the whiskey to his mouth and drained the glass in one gulp. “We’ll see,” he said through the burn.

“Yes, if she’s free, please do invite her tonight.” Rhys offered. “And let’s hope she is free, or I might never hear the end of it.” He winked a teasing wink at his mate, who then belted out a ringing belly laugh of her own. 

“No. He won’t” Feyre agreed. Azriel couldn’t help but smile to himself at that, knowing it was entirely true.

Celeste sat hugging her knees on the sofa in her apartment listening intently, wide-eyed at Azriel’s recollection of the conversation that had taken place earlier that morning.

“Oh! This is so, so good Az. No really, it’s delicious,” she crooned, bouncing in her seat on the sofa. “We couldn’t have planned it better ourselves! They are going to be so surprised!” 

He listened with amused distraction as she began plotting and planning the whole thing, exacting how they would make their grand reveal. As she jotted down ideas and paced around the small apartment living room, he could only focus on her and not her words. 

In her flurry of excitement she had swept her dark brown curls up atop her head and out of the way, exposing the soft expanse of her neck and the whole of her face. His eyes lingered along the scar that traversed her features, beginning its snaking path in her right eyebrow cleaving it entirely in two. Barely missing the corner of her eye, it continued over the bridge of her nose, through the flesh of her left nostril and slipped down into the plump pillow of her top lip. Although it had been healed for decades now, it was still fiery bright red in color against her lightly tanned skin. 

The scar itself had never bothered Az. It did nothing to detract from Celete’s beauty and charm. It was the origin of the injury that had his blood boiling. The mark was a relic of her former partner. A vile and cruel male who had enacted punishments upon her for any perceived slight. The scar came about after one of the times Celeste had attempted to escape him. Ever since Azriel had first heard her recount a particularly awful recollection to Nesta after walking in on a girls night in the House of Wind, he had attempted to find the man named Tyrik. As spymaster, Azriel might have abused a few of his court powers in order to do so. Every lead for the last three decades ended in a dead end. One day though, Azriel was convinced that Tyrik would be the one dead.

Azriel mentally tugged his thoughts away from that male before the anger began showing in his body language. His hazel eyes continued to trail Celeste across the room, still pacing animatedly. How anyone could hurt this wonderful female before him, he would never understand. He answered the flurry of questions Celeste asked him in quick succession and offered his opinion on how things should be timed for the surprise. 

“Oh. Oh, Cauldron boil me!” Celeste suddenly exclaimed with a squeak. “I have to pick a different outfit!”

Jumping up from the sofa across from where he sat, she wound her way around the coffee table with ease. Grabbing his face between her two hands with more force than she intended she yelped out, “Az–oh! Sorry. But I need your help.” Planting a quick kiss to his lips, she was already scurrying down the hall before she finished. “Don’t go anywhere. You have to help me pick. Wait there!”

“I’d rather watch,” he shouted back. Her sharp laughter rang back down the hallway. 

Az just chuckled to himself as he heard her rummaging around the tiny closet in her bedroom. Alone in the now quiet living room, he began to think about how much she had changed since he first laid eyes on her. The version of Celeste he had met in a dark tavern was a stark difference to the Celeste that had just bounced off frantically.

She had been working in a shabby tavern on the outskirts of the city. It was where he went when he didn’t want to engage in the ravelry of Rita’s with the rest of his friends. Azriel had quickly picked up on the fact that her feisty attitude with the male customers wasn’t an attempt at playing hard to get or to garner increased tips. As spymaster he recognized it immediately for what it was – a defense mechanism. She piqued his interest like a puzzle he wanted to solve. In typical Azriel fashion however, he kept to the shadows, never approaching her or striking up conversation. Only silently observing. 

It wasn’t until Celeste had met Nesta on one of her nights off years ago, drinking alone at Rita’s, that he had even entertained the possibility of knowing her. Their blossoming friendship had carried her into his circle with increasing frequency until it was nearly every other day that they were in each other's presence for one reason or another.

Azriel’s private struggle over a lack of a mating bond and his terrible habit of choosing unavailable love interests kept him at an emotional distance however. He had joined group nights out and laughed shyly at Celeste’s jokes with others without ever attempting to grab her attention. From the fringe of their friend group he had watched as Celeste transformed from the defensive and harshly playful female he first noticed into a confident, easygoing, empathetic and kind friend.

Once she had begun to discover her healing abilities, Rhys had generously offered to send her to Dawn Court for extensive training. As her time away from Velaris turned from weeks into months, Azriel had begun to realize what was missing from his life. Her. 

Every missed opportunity to approach her on his own and every gap in conversation she had purposely left open to him replayed over and over in his mind. He mentally kicked himself over the fact that he wasted so much time pining over others in the past. 

The week of her return from Dawn, Azriel had commandeered the healer rotation schedule from Madja under “official court business”. The first date that he had seen her name penned on the calendar was when he enacted his plan. One well acted slip during training with Cassian and the priestesses that morning left him with a nasty gash along his forearm and a healer was called to the House of Wind. 

The minute she laid her light supple hands along his deep golden skin he had nearly lost all nerve and backed out entirely. Minutes of silence on his part passed as she cleaned and stitched and bandaged, talking all the while to fill the void. When the last wrap of bandage was taped down and she had started to pack up her supplies, he rushed into action before he could lose his nerve again. 

“Celeste?”

“Hmm?” she purred softly, still packing her things.

“Would you join me for dinner tonight? Just the two of us I mean.” He stammered nervously. “Like – like a date.”

Her hands had stilled atop her bag after clasping it shut before she slowly lifted her gaze to him. Those dark tawny eyes meeting his had sent his pulse into palpitations but the smile that spread across her lovely face had threatened to stop his heart entirely.

She released a laughing sigh that was like the calming breeze after a storm. “I thought you would never ask,” she answered. 

The best part of the entire plan, according to Celeste, was that Azriel’s someone had already been invited to Solstice dinner well before Rhys and Feyre had extended their invitation through Az. Being a part of Nesta’s circle of girlfriends had left Celeste with a standing invitation for the last few years. 

“Are you sure no one has any idea?” Celeste questioned as she stood by the bed toweling her still wet hair.

“I’m sure about everyone,” he answered, calculating mentally. “Except Nesta. You really don’t think she would tell Cassian first if she thought it was you?”

“Absolutely not,” Celeste insisted. “She would have approached me about it before ever mentioning it to him. I’m positive.”

“And what makes you so sure about that?” He peered at her quizzically.

“Have you ever taken a peek at the books she’s always lending me?” Celeste raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes. The scar that spanned the entirety of her face tightened with her animated expression. “She would have come running to me first for all the details. She would have wanted to know all about—” she pulled her hands apart in front of her before throwing her arms out fully “ — your wingspan.” She flashed a wink before ramping herself up into a fit of giggles. 

Az let out a shocked huff of a laugh before pulling his palm down his face, color rising to his cheeks. “Mother above,” he sighed. 

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, Celeste started shooing him off the bed with her towel. “Az, you have to get going. The shop will be closing soon and they said they are holding the rings for us. Go!”

“Alright, alright. I’m going,” he teased with his hands up in playful defense. He pushed himself up to stand and then gracefully swooped his arms around Celeste’s waist, pulling her body against his. “A kiss goodbye at least?”

“You’re coming right back,” Celeste narrowed her gaze in a comical frown but leaned in with sincerity, brushing her mouth gently over his before nipping at his bottom lip. Her eyes darkened with promise, “Hurry.”

The promise of that word hung in the air as Az grabbed his coat and headed out of the apartment. Unfortunately he knew that he wouldn’t be able to join in on that promise, at least not before dinner. He had to stop home for one last thing after the shop and his return would cut it close to when they had timed their departures. 

Kicking off from the cobblestones on the corner in front of the apartment building Az launched into the air. He made quick work of locating the jewelry shop just a short flight away. It wasn’t the one that Rhys often frequented for his mate’s jewels but it was the only one open this late on Solstice night. It didn’t matter to Azriel though, as long as Celeste was happy.

She had gotten this idea in the final hour of their planning, which had forced them to rethink nearly the entire plan. The joy that had radiated from her at the thought of being able to pull it off was well worth the hassle. Azriel had been sent out in search of an open shop that could fulfill their request last minute which luckily didn’t take as long as he thought it would have. A pile of coin and two hours later he was walking out of the shop, the proud owner of two simple and plain gold bands. 

Azriel had insisted that they didn’t have to rush, he would give her the commitment ceremony of her dreams if that’s what she wanted. Celeste had teased him back that he could still do that for her even if their new plan went smoothly. Committing to each other was something they had spoken about before at great length. Their feelings for each other, mating bond or not, were serious and true. 

After arranging the pickup of the rings, she had told him very seriously that this is what she wanted. She didn’t want a huge party or ice sculptures. The fact that this was a surprise to everyone involved was thrilling enough. The only thing she wanted was to declare themselves committed in front of their family and to slip that ring on his finger. Celeste had even proposed the idea to adopt the usual mortal terms of husband and wife. 

“I like the sound of ‘husband’ so much better than ‘partner’,” she had said. “It feels better rolling off the tongue.” 

Azriel’s chin had dipped in a seductive grin. “There are other things I can think of that feel better rolling off the tongue.”

Slipping the newly purchased ring box into his inner coat pocket, Azriel kicked off once more, heading to his townhouse before circling back to meet Celeste one last time. This flight was longer, as he didn’t live in the downtown district like Celeste did, but instead closer to the quieter outskirts of the city. 

He glided smoothly through the drafts above the clouds. The path between the two dwellings was something he knew by muscle memory having flown it so many times over the last many months. Az allowed his mind to wander as it usually did in times of quiet. Spending so much of his life inside his own head had made the habit a hard one to break. 

Celeste’s face alight with excitement was the first thing that popped up. He felt his heart clench as he sifted through all the expressions and laughs she had produced tonight as she plotted out everything. The fact that the reveal of their relationship hadn’t happened until now was not lost on him. It was his hesitancy that had delayed this moment – her moment. The throb of guilt, knowing that he could have allowed Celeste this joy sooner, sent his heart into a squeeze.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Umbrella | Lucien

summary: You hated rainy days. That is, until, you forgot your umbrella and a handsome stranger became your savior.

word count: 1,660

warnings: none (just rain and fluff)

a/n: did I sing Rihanna's Umbrella a lot while writing this? Absolutely! This is actually a recycled old fanfic of mine since I'm currently in a small writing slump and I thought Lucien fit this best. Hopefully y'all find this a bit cute as I did when first writing it.

You saw the dark clouds ominously forming over Velaris as you got ready for work. Your stubborn mind refused to acknowledge the threat of rain. The past few days had been filled with similar warnings, but the clouds had delivered nothing more than a gloomy sky. Even when you finally stepped out of your apartment and felt light droplets kiss your cheeks, you refused to go back to your place for your umbrella.

It’s not going to rain, it’s not going to rain. You repeated in your head as if the more you said it, the more truth it would hold. Nonetheless, your pace quickens, determined to get to your job as soon as possible. It was only a few blocks away, no more than a fifteen minute walk.

But, as always, fate had other plans.

The smell of impending rain was thick in the air and you cursed your stubbornness for not going back for your umbrella. It was too late now. The light drizzle turned into a downpour, heavy raindrops pelting down with increasing intensity. There was no time to seek cover, you had to press on. It was either the sky’s wrath or your boss’s and your body shudders at the thought of the latter.

I hate the rain, I hate the rain.

"Mother’s tits," you curse under your breath, squinting against the onslaught of rain as you shield your eyes with a hand. To your dismay, a grand carriage and a parade of horses blocks your path, moving leisurely along the street and obstructing your way to the next block.

You didn’t notice the tall shadow looming over you until you felt something change.

Your hand drops to your side as you straighten up. What happened to the rain? As you glance forward, you realize the rain was still there but…

“I thought you needed a savior.” 

You jump back, startled by the male who is now standing beside you. The cold rain striking your face snaps you out of your daze yet you feel a rush of warmth as your eyes take in your savior. He possesses an entrancing beauty, so striking that for a moment you wonder if you had been hit by the carriage and were now being guided to the afterlife by this angelic figure.

He extends the umbrella out toward you, offering you solace once more. Despite the relentless downpour, he seems unbothered by the rain, and you can't help but watch as a single droplet traces the jagged scar running down one side of his face. His fiery red hair begins to cling to his forehead. He clears his throat, drawing your gaze back to his.

“Sorry,” you apologize, realizing you had been blatantly staring.

He smiles at you, his eyes alight with a hint of amusement. It’s then you notice the captivating contrast between his eyes: one a gleaming gold, mechanical and the other a warm russet, both piercing through the gloom.

Sheepishly peeling your gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes, you look up at the umbrella. It’s a vibrant red, matching the exact shade of his hair. The color stands out vividly against the gray backdrop of the rainy day like a beacon of warmth and protection.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, gently pushing the umbrella back toward him.

“There’s enough room for both of us,” he insists, his voice smooth and reassuring.

The umbrella was indeed wide enough for two people to fit under. Although you’d still get a bit wet with the rain showing no mercy, it was better than nothing.

“Are you sure?” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling a mix of nervousness and gratitude. “I don’t want to be a burden, especially not to a complete stranger.”

“Lucien Vanserra. Emissary to the Night Court by day and a secret admirer of Velaris’s stars by night,” he says with a playful grin. “Hmm, what else? My favorite color is yellow. I like to read in my spare time.”

His introduction catches you off guard and you can’t help but smile. “Your turn,” Lucien prompts, his eye twinkling with curiosity.

“Y/N. No cool role in this court, unless you count baking Velaris’s best pastries… but that might change if I don’t make it to the shop within the next five minutes.”

His eyes widen with recognition and delight. “Those pumpkin cream cheese muffins have me in a chokehold. Believe it or not, I was actually headed that way. So now that we’re not complete strangers…allow me?”

Lucien offers you his arm, and after a moment’s hesitation, you surprisingly take it, hooking your own arm through his. Butterflies dance in your stomach as he pulls you close to allow the umbrella to cover you both. The traffic that had stalled you earlier is now clear.

 Not wasting any more time, the two of you walk together under the safety of his umbrella with hurried footsteps. The rain continues to fall around you and you lean in closer. His warmth seeps into you, offering comfort against the chill of the rain.

“So, you didn’t tell me your favorite color…” Lucien says, just loud enough for you to hear over the rain.

“Red!” You exclaim with a grin.

**

One of your biggest regrets in life stemmed from that day.

Arriving a few minutes late at the bakery, you faced your boss's ire. There was a big batch of cupcakes, urgently needing to be decorated for a catering event later that evening. She greeted you grumpily, tossing a fresh set of clothes your way from the stash kept for inevitable mishaps. 

Yet, her mood shifted entirely upon seeing the male standing beside you.

Needless to say, Lucien saved you in more ways than one that day.

You managed to persuade your boss to let him choose a couple of pastries for free and snuck in an extra pumpkin muffin when she wasn't looking. However, amidst the morning rush of customers, you hadn’t noticed when he slipped away from the bakery.

While you learned more about him during your rushed walk, there was one detail you missed. How to reach out to him. It left you with regret for not inviting him for a coffee (as a gesture of gratitude, of course.)

You sigh as you step out of your apartment. Thankfully, you have the afternoon shift today. It allowed you to sleep in a bit longer, but luck had not spared you from the city's recent capricious weather.

“It was sunny just ten minutes ago!” you huff, glaring up at the sky as if to scold it.

As if in response to your glare, the sky darkens ominously. Before long, rain pours down on you, leaving you stranded without an umbrella. Again. You let out a small groan.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” A familiar voice chimes in.

“By the Cauldron,” you gasp, startled by the presence right beside you. “You really need to stop appearing out of nowhere.”

“Then how else am I supposed to save you?” Lucien teases, moving closer so that his umbrella also shields you from the rain.

You hadn’t found the courage to ask him out that day either, but you had learned that when Lucien wasn't away on emissary business, he lived in the building right next to yours.

**

As you get ready to close up the bakery, you spare a glance toward the window. A frown settles on your face. It seemed that Velaris was in for even more rain, despite the newspaper claiming otherwise. Fortunately, you had shoved your boring gray umbrella into your bag before work. You were prepared this time because surely with your luck, Lucien wouldn’t be there to save you a third time.

You made sure to pack the leftover pasties into your bag before shutting everything off. As you lock the door, the sky darkens and the faint sound of thunder echoes throughout the city. In the blink of an eye, the rain comes down, pouring quickly and relentlessly. Too quick for you to shift the bags in your arms and reach for your umbrella.

“Forgot yours again?”

“Mother above!”

“Unfortunately, no. Just Lucien.” The red haired male chuckles. His intentions were never to scare you but he found it quite amusing and cute. “I saw the gray clouds and figured you’d need me. Come,” he says, gesturing for you to inch closer to him 

“How did you know I was working today?” 

“I didn’t.”

A sheepish smile spreads across his features and a faint blush colors his cheek. You swear there’s a subtle glow about him, his fiery red hair and eyes gleaming despite the overcast sky. He’s like a ray of sunshine.

“Well, aren’t you a lucky male?” You tease, feeling a rush of warmth at his presence.

“I’d be luckier if you joined me for a late afternoon coffee.” Now it’s you who is blushing and you’re grateful for the way he turns his head, tilting it slightly to the left.  “There’s a place only a block away.”

“Only if you let me pay,” you manage to say and when he opens his mouth to protest, you beat him to it. “As a thank you,” you insist, nudging his shoulder playfully with yours. “For your umbrella services.”

Lucien laughs, his smile widening. He offers you his arm like he has the previous two times. This time, you take it without hesitation, feeling a rush of excitement at the closeness between you. As he guides you both through the rain-soaked streets of Velaris, you lean into him even further. He’s always soothingly warm. He doesn’t seem to mind that you’re closer to him than usual.

As the sky continues to pour down, the umbrella in your bag seems to quietly smile, and you can’t help but develop a newfound fondness for the rain.

It has, after all, brought you closer to Lucien.

For the sake of this fic, reader can't winnow and let's just say Lucien didn't winnow you to your job because he wanted to get to know you more (:

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming

[pit-and-the-pen]

Use Your Manners (SMUT)

Cassian x reader

Notes: I need this man in ways that I cannot describe. Also Rhysand makes an appearance which may lead to a part 2.

Warnings: smut, light choking, voyeurism, dom/sub dynamics

You moaned and clawed at Cassian’s back, pleasure coursing through your body. Being apart for three weeks was too long to be separated from him, and his cock. As he pounded into you Cass held you tight to his large body. Like you would slip away from him if he couldn’t feel you against his chest.

“Gods sweetheart, never again. Never leaving you again.” You moan at the sweet words. To have your mate all to yourself again was truly a gift.

His hips stutter for a moment before his thrusts turned into deep, concentrated strokes. You whine as he pulls away from you to lean on his elbows, his eyes glazed over, though you know that look isn’t from being buried inside your cunt. You hold his face, whimpering for his undivided attention again. Shushing you, Cassian leans down pecking your cheek. “Rhys needs to ask me a question.” He whispers in your ear. “Now, I want to get this over with, so can he come in, and I promise we won’t stop.” Cassian’s words strained as he kept up his languid strokes. He smirks at you, his eyes dark with lust at the thought of showing you off.

You have to admit, the idea of Cassian fucking you in front of the High Lord was hot. It had you clenching around his cock, causing him to groan. He let out a breathy laugh that tickled your pointed ear. “So is that a yes sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly. Growing desperate for Cassian to pound into you again. He kisses your forehead, murmuring, “Good girl.”

Scooping you off the bed Cassian sits against the headboard, keeping you on his lap. Pressing kisses against your chest up to your neck your head lolls back, eyes fluttering. Cassian grips your hips to turn you facing forward. The kisses and bites moving down to your shoulder.

“Come in.” Cass calls out. As the door opens he starts thrusting into you again. Rhys slowly makes his way in coming to a stop next to the bed. That signature smirk pulling on his lips.

Cassian pulls you down on his cock, hard. You let out a loud moan, digging your nails into his thighs. “Greet our guest sweet girl.” Cassian teases. He grasps your hair pulling lightly so you look up at Rhys.

“H-hi Rhys.” You stutter. Gods you can’t even think. You just wanted to yell at them to get their conversation over with. Clawing at Cassian you whimper. He picks up his thrusts again.

“Good, sweet girl.” You let out a sweet giggle as you continue to bounce on him. Cassian could tell you craved more from him from the way you angled yourself. You needed him deeper.

You couldn’t even comprehend the words the males behind you were exchanging. You were completely consumed by Cassian.

Before you could beg for more Cassian wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you up while he got on his knees. His other hand squeezed one of your breasts, sliding his large hand to hold your throat.

Your breath catches at the new position. A shiver running down your spine. Cassian let out a deep chuckle. You jump at his breath on your ear as he whispers, “Rhys says you're doing so good for me. Say thank you to your High Lord and you get a reward.”

Resting your head in the crook of Cassian’s neck you look up to meet Rhys’s violet gaze. “Thank you, Rhys.”

“May I?” He asks Cassian while staring at you. “Go ahead.” Rhys traces a finger down your cheek, hooking under your jaw before falling away. “Next time I’ll invite Feyre. She’d love how responsive you are.”

Your walls clench around Cassian’s cock. The thought of all four of you in one room has a new wave of arousal coursing through you. “You want that baby?” Cassian whispers. “Uh-huh,” you breathe out. You ground your hips down on him. Begging for him to move. It feels like Cassian has been still for far too long.

Cassian slams into you, pulling out as far as he can. A high pitched moan bordering on a scream falls from your mouth. Your eyes screwed shut from Cassian’s cock finally hitting that sweet spot inside your cunt.

Caught up in your pleasure you didn’t hear Rhys depart. Just the door closing. Cassian didn’t reposition you, his moans telling you he loved this position too.

“Fuck, you feel so good like this. You were such a good girl, using your manners and showing Rhys all those pretty sounds.” His voice gruff as he concentrates on your highs. “Fu-fuck Cassie. So good,” you babble out along with a few stuttered moans. You were close. So fuckig close.

Cass tightened his grip on your throat. Your eyes fly open so you can stare up at him. Watching his rugged face full of lust as his eyes watch you closely. Scanning your body for your tells.

Your thighs start to shake as your stomach tightens. Your walls fluttering, your body begging Cassian to come.

As your release rips through you, you go limp in Cassian’s hold. He holds you up, going faster and faster. You feel his come paint your walls as he keeps pushing into you.

His chest heaves as you both relax. “Cass,” you breathe out. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “That was perfect.” Cassian carefully pulls you off him, turning you to lay on his chest as he calmly strokes your hair.

“You ok?” Cass whispers. You let out an approving hum, snuggling closer to him. “My perfect, sweet girl.” He says, pulling the covers over your bodies.