#sorry for getting your name wrong for so long Rhys | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sidthedollface2 · 1 year ago

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Something Old and Something New

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (Rhys sister)

Summary: Rhys tells Azriel to back off Elain and find release at a pleasure hall. Instead, Azriel finds you, Rhys' younger sister.

The Princess of the Night Court becomes Azriels rebound. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, ANGST, hurt/no comfort, cheating? (not really tho you'll see), smut (p in v, oral, fingering) no use of yn, nicknames, drug use, alcohol.

A/n: I’m back from vacation and decided to do this one shot in between crown fit for a god. I really don't like using yn (its me not you) so every one of my fics will have a nickname but its still x reader. I’m sorry in advance if this hurts you. Anyway, enjoy. :)

“You will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

Azriel hadn't slept in weeks. The weight of his shame suddenly became too heavy for his illyrian shoulders. You weren't supposed to be this magnetic and he wasn't supposed to stick around this long. He told himself it was just going to be a quick fling, someone he could spend the night with and try to forget about her.

But you had always been in his company. Ever since you became of age he thought you were stunning and entirely too good for him. You were afterall Rhysands younger sister. The female version with equal power and even more beautiful. Graceful when needed, mostly among people of importance, and always polite and kind like a princess should be. You were a Princess for the people, earning the citizens trust and walking among them like each and every person was your friend. It was no secret why they preferred your company to their High Lord.

Your amethyst eyes were now engrained behind his very own eyelids, everytime he closed his eyes for the night, they shot wide open. The image of you under him all those nights and the soft moans as he took you to bed in the shroud of darkness. He really didn’t know how it happened, mostly, he blamed it on the alcohol. One night after Ritas was all it took for him to be obsessed, seeking you out when his loneliness threatened to consume him.

Azriel’s panting mixes with your own moans as he pumps himself inside you. The delicious drag of his thick cock leaves you breathless under him. His touch is gentle as he cups your cheek, his hazel eyes never leaving yours as he imagines forever in your arms. “You're so beautiful. Can’t believe I get to have you.” He coo’s as he trails soft kisses down your neck, nipping and biting your flesh, careful to not leave any marks. Your hands card through his dark waves, back arching off the bed when his lips attach to your pebbled nipple.

Kissing and biting at the fullness of your breasts, soothing away the love bruising he left on them previously. His scarred hands feel like silk when they roam the soft curves of your body, lighting a fire within you with each and every touch. Knees dig into the bed as he grips your hips, still completely sheathed inside you. He moves your body against his, matching the velocity of his thrusts. Deeper and deeper. One arm wraps around your waist while the other rubs tiny circles on your clit. His eyes never leave your beautiful face as his favorite part comes to life right before him. Your head is thrown back, mouth agape as pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach. “Oh fuck Az, don’t stop.” Azriel’s eyes sparkle with wonder as you fall apart beneath him. Toes curling as the force of your orgasm takes over all your senses. Azriel follows soon after. His pace stutters as your name falls from his lips with a groan. Spilling his seed into you with slow thrusts, ensuring each drop doesn't go to waste.

“You were so good for me baby,” he smiles as he peppers your face with kisses. Azriel pulls out with a hiss and you giggle into the covers when his toned ass walks to the bathroom. You pout adorably when he returns wearing a pair of low hanging pants, and a warm cloth in his hands. “None of that love. I’m all yours and very willing to give you seconds and thirds,” he waggles his eyebrows and nestles between your legs. No shame or embarrassment from neither of you as he gently cleans you up. In between his gentle wipes he places a loud kiss to your core, “so fucken pretty.”

“Pink or Red?” He asks, looking through your assortment of panties, imagining how you'd look wearing the lacey ones. “Black.” Is all you reply and Azriels grin widens when you pick the lacey ones.

He insists on helping you get dressed, pinching your butt and digging his fingers in your sides, making you giggle. You swat his greedy hands away. knowing it's just an excuse to keep touching you. “I’m not going to let you help me next time, all you do is tickle me,” you joke, knowing very well you couldn’t keep him away if you tried. “Fine. I won’t tickle you next time,” he says, crossing his arms with a sly grin on his handsome face.

“You said that last time, and the time before that too.”

“Then you should know what to expect. Now come to bed, and snack with me.” Azriel moves to lay on the bed and opens the covers. Patting the space next to him with the palm of his hand, beckoning you next to him. You don’t have to be told twice, because this was without a doubt your favorite part. Like clockwork Azriel requested all your favorite snacks and without hesitation the house delivered.

Like a true Royal he fed you ripe grapes from the vine, watching intently as you parted your mouth for the sweet berry. Azriel licked his lips when your mouth wrapped around the fruit, making you chuckle as you pulled it off the stem. “When you said snacks this is not what I had in mind. I was thinking more like dessert.”

“You just had dessert baby,” he teased with a shit eating grin as he gestured to his cock. You couldn’t help the snort that escaped from the back of your throat, causing you both to burst into fits of laughter, giggling like children. Who knew the shadowsinger belly laughed so openly. Something he only did with you. Once your laughs died down Azriel indulged you with a sweet treat. Again offering to spoon feed you, taking every chance to lick frosting off your glossy lips or fingers.

By the end of the night you couldn't believe how sore your cheeks were from laughing so hard. Azriel had this charm about him, and you couldn’t get enough. You draped your arm over his toned stomach. Head nestled against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his strong heart, a melody you loved to fall asleep to. He held you close to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair, “Goodnight baby,” he whispered.

“Night Az, I love you.”

Silence.

Azriel didn’t sleep that night. Neither did you. You didn’t expect him to say the words back, because he’d shown you he loved you in his actions alone. But his coldness afterward was unexpected. He laid still under you. No longer stroking your hair, or rubbing small circles on your back. It was like all the air had left his body yet the rhythm of his heart increased, hammering against his chest with the ferocity of a freight train. If he felt your saddened tears fall on his chest he didn’t mention it, too caught up in his thoughts to console you.

But now all his thoughts were of you and how quick your love had turned bitter when he didn't respond after you had said those three words to him.

He was an idiot. Because he did love you. At the very sight of you his heart beat wildly in his chest. He wanted to spend every waking moment holding your hand and kissing your perfect lips. Fall asleep with you in his arms only to be awoken by your feminine beauty. But Rhysand was unaware that you two were in a relationship. Were you in a relationship? He never asked. Wanted to. But he didn’t. He couldn’t imagine a day where Rhys would accept him as your lover. Rhys had been furious that he wanted to sleep with Elain, threatening him to no end. He couldn't imagine the anger if he were to find out that he turned his efforts to you instead. There were only a few things Azriel was scared of. Rhysands fury if he were to ever find out he’s been sleeping with his sister. And losing you. Those sort of went hand and hand didn’t they.

You woke up alone the following morning. Thinking that your confession was too much for the shadowsinger. And perhaps you were just one of his many conquests added to the long list of females that warmed his bed. For as long as you knew Azriel he only had casual flings, nothing of substance. No one he introduced to his family. It made you feel stupid. He made you feel stupid. Hoping that you were the one he could call home. Someone he could envision spending the rest of his life with. You could forgive him for not saying ‘I love you’ back. That didn’t stop you from loving him and that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you. Because surely he did right?

Right?

It wasn’t just that though, you had overheard Azriel tell Cassian sleeping with you was a mistake and that choosing you to be his rebound hadn’t worked out for him. “She said she loved me. It’s just all wrong. This wasn’t how I wanted things to go between us-” You didn’t bother hearing the rest of the conversation. Azriel’s words left your heart gaping, a wound so large you were afraid no one could mend it.

You had missed the importance of his following words, how Azriel wished he had done things right with you. Courted you the right way, with flowers and lovely dates to the finest eateries. Taking things slow at first, holding hands and sweet kisses under the moonlight. You didn’t hear Azriel explain that you had become more than he ever expected, more than just a rebound. He wanted a life with you. Now and forever, just you two and the family he always wanted.

You’d both move into a beautiful house just along the Sidra where you’d spend hours decorating every room to your liking. He’d soon marry you in front of all his family and friends, wearing the finest gown that glittered brighter than the night sky. During the mating frenzy, because of course you were his mate, he’d be sure to fuck a baby into you. And if his seed didn’t stick he wouldn't stop until your scent shifted to one of a pregnant female. He just hoped that Rhysand would give his blessing.

Now everytime Azriel tried to seek you out, you were nowhere to be found. Like you had just vanished from the Night Court, even though the other members had interactions with you. You suddenly had no time for Azriel. The citizens of Velaris saw you less and less and when they did, your time spent was cut in half. Your joyous laughter no longer echoed the halls of the House of Wind, instead Cassian and Nesta’s not so secret sex romps were becoming more frequent. You had changed your entire schedule to avoid crossing paths with the shadowsinger.

You no longer spent your mornings having breakfast with Rhysand and Feyre, instead you woke up earlier than usual and held your morning breakfast in the library.

“Why are you having breakfast here and not with Rhys?” Azriels hazel eyes took you in as he neared, noticing your tense shoulders. Closing the book in your hand, now finished with your chapter, you stand and gather your items into your bag, “was just catching up on some reading.” You don’t meet his gaze, the sight of him too painful for your heart to bear. “You haven’t been training with Cassian either,” he continues. “Or shopping with Mor. You haven't exchanged books with Nesta and,” Azriel towers over you, his breath fanning over your cheek at his closeness, “you haven’t warmed my bed.” Your eyes finally meet his, a look of desire in his warm eyes as his hands come up to cup your face. A glance over his shoulder has you pulling away from his touch as Elain enters the library, her soft voice dancing along the walls, “Hi Az.”

He ignores her completely, doesn’t even spare her a glance. But your eyes travel from her to him and back again. You see the fondness she has for him in the flush of her cheeks and the way her voice sings as she calls his name.

Memories of their subtle interactions come crashing into your mind. Her shy gaze whenever he walked in the room. The slight brush of fingers when they crossed paths, his lingering gaze when she exited a room.

He’s not yours, and you're not his. Never was, never will be. It dawns on you then that all the soft touches and lingering glances were never sincere but simply a ploy to get Elain jealous. Everytime you made love to him you gave a part of yourself, hoping he would accept you with open arms and an open heart.

You had hoped you were the only one in his life that made him throw his head back, eyes closed shut in ecstasy. But it's clear now when he closed his eyes he saw Elain riding him instead, not you. She was who he really wanted and you were just a placeholder. The rebound.

He knows you well enough to tell when you're about to fall apart and now is one of those instances. It clicks for him now why he hasn’t seen you. Azriel catches your arm before you dart away, his touch gentle yet firm “you're avoiding me.” He says, worry etched all over his face as he attempts to pull you into his chest. “I’ve figured it out so you can stop pretending to care about me now.” A tear escapes your waterline and Azriel reaches to thumb away the hurt that he's caused.

You don't give him the chance as you swat his hand away and turn to make your exit. He’s panicking now watching you practically run away from him, as you hurry to get away from his presence.

A wound so intense suddenly opens within his heart. With no other option but to just blurt out the first thing that comes to his mind to keep you close. “I adore you!” he says breathlessly and waits for you to run into his arms so he could kiss you silly. When you turn around to confront him, Elain comes up from behind him and wraps her arms around his middle in a tight squeeze. A picture perfect couple you think to yourself, her innocent personality and bubbly nature a lovely contrast to his tall, dark and handsome. Azriel can’t pry her arms off him in time to chase after you before you rush out of the library, traces of your scent still lingering in the air.

You run and run you're not sure for how long, just long enough till your tears are dried tracks along your soft cheeks. You find yourself in the arms of your brother, clutching his shirt in your closed fist as you loosen the cries that held your throat hostage. “Hey hey, what's wrong?” he coo’s pulling away just enough to see the heartbreak etched in your pretty face. “Send me away please Rhys, I am begging. I never ask anything of you, it doesn’t have to be forever, just a few months.” Your shoulders are shaking violently as you continue to wail into his chest, the intensity of your cries cracking the high lord into submission. “Are you sure, love? I can fix-”

“No! There's nothing you can do.”

Rhys nods, winnowing you to a secret cabin that sits along the border of The Night Court. “Just tell me this. Are you in any danger?” he asks, “because I know Azriel and Cassian or even myself will-”

You wince at the mention of Azriels name, “I’m not in any danger, brother.” You assure him as you settle on the couch in front of the hearth, pulling a warm throw over your body and curling in on yourself. “Good, that’s good. I’ll talk to Kallias. He has someone he wants you to meet. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hosting you for as long as you need.” Rhysand takes one last look at you, studying how unhappy you look, hoping you can confide in him your troubles, whatever they may be. You lay bundled under the comfort of the blanket, your glossy eyes staring into the flames of the fireplace. It’s heat providing a comfort you wish was someone else's.

Azriel enters your room frantically searching for you, but he gasps and stumbles back when he sees Cerridwen packing your belongings. “Where is she?” he asks, his voice tense and panicked as he grips her by the shoulders. “I’m afraid I don’t have that information.”

“Why are you packing her stuff then?” He starts shaking her shoulders, as if it would quicken her answer. “She’ll be visiting the Winter Court and Rhysand requests her favorite items to be sent to her.”

You were running away from him, when all he wanted was to run toward you. Azriels world shattered completely. If you weren't here to live beside him then he had no interest in living. He had been too complacent in being in the now and not once had he initiated to be something serious. Now he was left with longing.

That same night Rhysand made accommodations for you to stay in the Winter Courts Palace. Kallias and Vivienne were more than happy to have you stay with them. They were quite eager to introduce you to their son Kit. Hoping that with time you’d become great friends. Kit was the spitting image of his father. His white hair styled to perfection, with not a single strand misplaced. Chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw, pouty lips with Icy blue eyes to match his cool demeanor. His eyes trailed your beautiful curves as he bowed, taking your hand within his, placing a tender kiss to your delicate knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Princess.”

Your violet eyes met his and for a moment his pretty face made you forget about your heartbreak. Kit extended his elbow to you and without a second doubt you linked your arm with his as he led you to see the beauty of his Court.

You spent the next two weeks in the company of the future Heir. Kit remained a respectful host. Introducing you to his closest friends, a welcomed change of personalities compared to your friends from home. Each evening he’d join you for dinner. Offering a different restaurant each night in hopes to expand your palate in order to get a feel for your favorite foods.

During your brief stay you opened up to him and told him of the situationship you had with Azriel. You explained to him what you overheard Azriel say and how stupid he made you feel after you confessed your love for him. “I finally saw the way he looked at her and it broke me more than it should have, because I remember when he looked at me the same way. I heard him tell Cass that I was just the girl he picked to get over her. I never meant anything to him. Yet this whole time it had been real for me and I foolishly fell in love with him.”

“Oh sweetheart, you deserve to be someone's first and only choice. You’re a Princess of The Night Court, if anyones the stupid one It’s him for not seeing how incredible you are.” With the end of his sweater sleeve, Kit wipes away a stray tear that escaped your waterline. His gentleness is a stark contrast to the ice flowing within his veins. “Besides I hear there's a handsome Prince looking for a warm heart to thaw the coldness in his soul,” he smirks playfully, rocking on the heels on his feet, a look of innocence in his crystal eyes. Your sweet giggle transcends into his favorite song and he makes it a mission to hear it often.

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

Azriel was tearing himself apart from the inside out. By the third day of being plastered and starting fights with innocent bystanders; Rhys had pulled him off missions until he sobered up enough to function. All that did was give him a larger drinking window. He visited every winery and brewery in Verlaris, sometimes even forgetting how he got there in the first place. Drowning in bottles of liquor till he could barely stand, let alone fly or walk or do anything for that matter. Tonight was different from the past two weeks, as he decided to smoke his problems away, alcohol no longer providing the high that made him forget.

The strain for tonight was Mirthroot laced with Amnesia Haze, a hallucinogenic that could either make your deepest wish a reality or make you completely forget your life's problems.

Azriel couldn’t remember how he got up the steps to the house of wind. He couldn’t remember lots of things as of late. One thing he’d never forget though, was your scent and the way you made him feel. So when he opened the door to the house and your sensual perfume hit his nose he almost fell to his knees with relief.

You were finally home. He could explain himself and tell you that he loved you and that you meant the world to him. Azriel followed your scent like it was second nature. His shadows excitedly rushed up stairs towards your bed chambers, leaving him slightly confused because you were sitting at the kitchen Table.

Your hair was long in flowy waves down your back, a little longer since the last time he saw you. It hadn't been that long had it? It didn’t matter, all he wanted was to hold you in his arms again. Keep you safe in Velaris where you belong. Azriel slowly approached you, his breath shaky as he placed his hand on your shoulder. “Vi?”

Violet, the nickname you were given for your stunning eyes with various shades of purple and blue. Your eyes met his and you smiled, “Hi Az.”

“Gods I missed you,” he admitted as he pulled you up from the chair, enveloping you in a warm embrace. You were slightly startled at how tight he hugged you. Inhaling your scent deeply as his nose nuzzled against your neck. “I’m so sorry, for everything. Please forgive me?” Azriel cupped your face between his scarred hands, angling you to look up at him. His pupils were large and dilated, a gaze mixed with sorrow and lust. Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Az? What are you talking about?”

“Come here, I need to tell you something.” Azriel lifted you onto the kitchen counter, earning a small yelp from your lips. He settled between your knees, making your thin night dress pool around your hips. His hands remained on your exposed thighs, rubbing them softly to keep you warm. His eyes never strayed from yours, like he couldn't believe you were actually here. “I made a mistake and should have never let you feel like you were the wrong choice. I don’t care what Rhys says anymore. I want you.”

His hands inch closer to your center, a silent request to touch you as the other brings your lips to his in a steamy kiss. You nod into the kiss, giving him permission to touch you. Azriel pulls your panties to the side, easily coating his fingers in your arousal, groaning when he feels how wet you already are from his kiss alone.

Your breath catches when he slips his fingers inside and curls them in a come hither motion. “Oh gods Az, I’ve dreamed of this moment,” you pant into his mouth, needing more of him, anything he's willing to give you’ll take. He then rubs tiny circles on your clit, making you throw your head back so hard it slams against the cupboard in a loud thud. White flashes behind your eyes as your orgasm crashes over you, a giddy smile plastered on your face from the pleasure he's given you.

You hop off the counter, eager to return the favor. Palming his cock, you notice he's barely hard, a groan escapes his mouth as you fumble with his belt. You pull Azriels pants down along with his underwear, pooling at his ankles, his cock still not fully erect. Your small hand grips him at the base, making him hiss. He sways side to side, eyes closed as he concentrates on getting hard, something he's never had to do before. You pump his shaft. Once. Twice. And then you wrap your lips around his cock and suck, the warmth of your mouth excites him and he stands at attention, finally. “So the rumors are true,” you coo.

“Fuck baby, your mouth feels so good. I Fucken love you.”

Wait. What rumors?

“Azriel?”

Azriels eyes fly open. You're standing in the doorway, shaking like a leaf in the wind with a hand over your mouth. Sobbing loudly into your hand, tears blurring your vision as they escape your waterline. Heavy drops fall to the ground and the only sound heard is the unmistakable ‘pop’ as the female on her knees releases Azriels cock from her mouth.

Azriel blinks rapidly, shaking his head, trying to rid himself of the haze he's in. He looks down to the female, stuffing his cock back in his pants as she's scrambling to get up.

“Elain?” he chokes out her name, tears welling in his eyes as he stares at her, devastation in his wide eyes as he realizes what he's done. What he did to her thinking she was you. His eyes turn to meet yours again, but he only catches your dress billowing as you turn around and run. Your loud wailing echoing in his ears like a hammer to a church bell.

“Vi wait! Please. It’s not what you think!” He yells, rushing past Elain as he sprints after you, needing to reach you before you winnow away. His heavy footsteps pound against the tile floors, waking up the rest of the inner circle. Just as you're about to reach the knob Azriels arms wrap around your middle, pulling your back to his chest. You both crash to the ground from the force of Azriels tackle. His back meets the hard floor in a loud slam, cushioning your fall. “Let me go!” You plead, kicking and clawing at his arms that are tightly wrapped around you. “Sshh, baby please. Listen to me.” his voice cracks as he tries to calm you down, “I love you, I love you so much. I thought she was you!! Please believe me!”

Your voice slices through him, like a dagger to his already bleeding heart. “I hate you!” You scream out in anger, venom lacing every word as it hits its mark. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

Darkness envelops the entire room, It’s cold mist threatening to devour anyone who so dares to defy its power. “Azriel, release my sister before I sever those hands off your body.” Rhys stands at the bottom of the stairs, his power bouncing off him like flames of a fire. The rest of the inner circle gathered around him, watching in horror as both males stood off in a staring contest. It’s Azriel who wavers; finally releasing you to shuffle away from him.

Azriel sits on his heels, a subtle submissive pose showing respect to his High Lord. “Rhys, I’m sorry. I’ve been in love with your sister for some time now. Too cowardice to tell you or her,” Azriels gaze falls on you. “I’ve been a mess since you left. Masking my pain with alcohol and drugs, which is no excuse. But tonight I took a hallucinogen, and,” his chin wobbles as he tries to hold back his tears, “I made the biggest mistake of my life. I know I’ve lost you, and you will never forgive me. However, I need you to know, in front of everyone, that I have always loved you. I will always love you.”

Azriel lowers his head. The flood of emotions finally pulled him under the surface, drowning him in his own misery. Fat heavy tears break from his eyes; landing in scattered drops along the floor beneath him. This pain is all consuming, torturous in its own vile way. Tearing at his heart shred by shred, a disastrous mess all by his own hands. A lonely scarred heart to match his scarred hands. Hands that once held the most precious gem, a rare Violet beauty; now only hold the memory of a lost love.

When Azriel lifts his head to see your face for the last time, he’s once again too late. Fear latches onto his ankles like a heavy chain, anchoring him to the bottom of the sea. You’re gone. His darkness driving away your bright light, leading you into the arms of someone new.

Part 2 (Something Borrowed)

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x fem!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar #winter court

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invisible-lint · 1 year ago

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Something Wrong

AzrielxReader

Summary: Azriel is late coming home and you worry

Warnings: MC death, major angst

Word Count: 1.3k

You pace in front of the fireplace, the warmth coming from it doing nothing to warm the chill in your bones. Something was wrong with Azriel, you were certain. He was supposed to be back hours ago. Typically when either of you went on a mission, you would put walls up, silencing the mating bond, to keep from being distracted, but if either of you were delayed for any reason, you took down those walls just long enough to let the other know. But he hadn’t. When you had gone to Rhys worried, your mate hadn’t responded to the violet eyed male either.

You were supposed to go with him, but right before the two of you were set to leave, you had gotten news that changed everything. You’re pregnant. You almost hadn’t told him, knowing that he’d make you stay behind, but had decided being left behind was better than what might happen if he noticed your changing scent while the two of you were away.

So here you were, pacing in front of the fireplace in Rhys’ office, waiting for him to let you go track down your mate.

Rhys says your name, getting your attention. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll be back soon and tell us why he was late and why he didn’t answer. And then we can kick his ass for making us worry.”

You shake your head, you may not be able to feel your bond right now, but you can feel it in your soul. “Let me go after him.”

“Absolutely not. Azriel told me why you stayed behind. I am not sending his pregnant mate, my pregnant friend out into a potentially dangerous situation. If I did, he’d kick my ass and have every right to do so.” You stop your pacing and cross your arms, glaring at the High Lord. How is he so calm right now?

“Send me after him.”

“No.”

“Who are you more afraid of, Azriel or me?”

“Azriel, no question. You’re a very close second right now though if it makes you feel any better.” It doesn’t. You’re about to argue more when a bout of nausea sends you racing for the wastebasket next to the desk. Why it’s called morning sickness when it plagues you at all hours of the day, you’re not sure.

“Sorry about the waste basket.” Rhys just shrugs and waves his hand, cleaning it. Thank the Mother for magic.

“Don’t worry about it. If he’s not back in an hour I’ll have Cassian go look for him, okay?”

You nod, giving up on arguing with him.

Feyre comes in with a glass of water and a cup of ginger tea. You stand slowly, and move to the couch near the window before taking the glass from her, sipping it slowly. She sits next to you, taking your free hand in hers. She squeezes your hand, trading the water for the tea once you’ve finished it. You sip the tea, appreciating the way it soothes your stomach.

“It helped when I was pregnant with Nyx. I can have some sent to your house if you’d like?”

“I’d like that, thank you.”

“Of course.” You sit like that with Feyre, sipping your tea for the next hour. Azriel doesn’t show up.

“Rhys somethings wrong. I know something is wrong.” He looks at you, starting to believe that you may be right.

“I’ll tell Cassian to go search.” You feel Feyre wipe tears away from your eyes. When did you start crying?

“We put up walls when we’re on missions. Would… If he was… I’d know if he was…”

Feyre rubs your back, trying to comfort you, keep you from breaking down completely. “You’d know. That you would know. He’s still alive.” You nod, letting out a breath.

“Cassian is heading there now. He’ll find him, don’t worry.”

And so you wait. Feyre continues to rub your back, and you lean against her, taking comfort in your friend. After a while, you find yourself rubbing the spot where your and Azriel’s child is growing. You chew your lip. When Cassian gets back with him, you’ll have to have a talk with him about stepping back, at least for a little while. You need him. And you want to make sure that your child gets to meet their father.

You must have dozed off, waking suddenly when Rhys and Feyre both stand. You look between the two of them, knowing they’re communicating mind to mind.

“What is it? Did Cassian find him?”

Rhys’ voice is calm and even. Too even. “Yes. I’m going to go get the two of them and Feyre is going to go get Madja.” It’s bad. It has to be bad if Azriel couldn’t even winnow himself home. If Rhys has to go and get them. In your growing state of panic, you don’t even notice them leaving. You stand, pacing by the fire again. What had happened?

It’s the smell of the blood you notice first, running towards the source of the smell. When you take in the sight of your mate, you start crying again. You make your way to his side, taking his hand in yours. “Oh, Az… What happened?”

He tries to reach up to wipe the tears away from your face, but doing so must aggravate his injuries, because he winces, letting his arm fall back down by his side. “You should see the other male.” You shift, pressing your forehead to his. You don’t like the raspy sound of his breathing. The way his shadows seem to be lying dormant, pooling with the blood underneath him.

“Just hold on a little bit longer, Azzie. Feyre went to get Madja.”

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If I die-”

“No. I take it back. You are not dying. You can’t die. I won’t allow it.”

“I don’t think you have much of a choice in the matter, Love.”

You sit up, looking him in the eyes, ignoring how pale he is, how close to dying he is. Where is Feyre with Madja?

“I don’t care. I need you. I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes you can. You’re the strongest person I know. I love you. So much.”

“I love you too Azzie. You’re going to be okay.” He just smiles at you sadly. He’s not sure if it’s hope or sheer stubbornness or if you’re just refusing to see the reality of the situation in front of you. He wishes he wasn’t going to die. Wishes there wasn’t so much to live for. Wishes he would get to hold the child you’re growing. He takes a shallow breath, eyes getting heavy.

“No no no no, c’mon Azriel! You’ve gotta keep your eyes open! Keep your eyes open for me, Azzie baby.” He wishes he could listen to you.

Feyre was right. You would have known if he had been dead earlier. You feel it when he dies. Feel it as the mating bond disappears. It’s different from when you would block eachother out. Then, you could still feel it there, a warm presence in your chest, a golden thread connecting you. Now, your chest feels empty, hollow. The golden thread is gone. You cling to him, screaming.

Madja and Feyre appear then, too late. Not that anything could have been done if they had arrived earlier. You pull him into your arms, holding him to your chest as you scream and sob. Your friends watch on, their own eyes filled with tears. Eventually, your throat becomes too raw to scream, so you just hold him, sobbing, ignoring how his blood soaks your clothes. Then, you run out of tears, so you just hold him, not wanting to let go.

Feyre tries first to get you to let go of Azriel, but you ignore her. Cassian tries next with no success. When Rhys tries, you don’t let go, but you do look up, your eyes meeting his violet ones.

“I told you something was wrong.”

A/N: I'm a little bit sorry for this one and I don't even have Hozier to blame this time. Feel free to either send in requests!

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine

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heartless-tate · 1 year ago

Note

I have a request!!

I need some angsty Rhys x reader like I need the air I breathe. I’m talkin someone died and was brought back by the grace of the Gods or something along those lines. And I need the other party to lose it.

Can be smutty too I won’t be mad about it. But if it doesn’t fit don’t force it. Love your works! You’re a fabulous writer 💜

Come back to me | Rhysand X Freader angst

A/N: sorry it took so long! I’ve been very busy. P.S this shit wasn’t proof read so if it sucks it sucks. I’ll do better on my upcoming fics 😭 And thank you so much anon!

warnings: death, allusions to sex, wasn’t proof read 🥴, MDNI!!!!

“No!” Rhysand snaps at you. You growled challengingly at your friend. He was so fucking stubborn.

“Rhysand I swear to the cauldron above I will skin your ass if you don’t let me go on this mission.”

Rhysand bristles at your new threat. You were always creative with them. His eyebrow quirks. He sighs and rubs his temples. He looks around his office as if trying to find an escape. He stands abruptly and approaches you. His wings gently cocoon you, and he drops his head on your neck defeatedly like a pouty child.

“Don’t call me that...” he mutters into your skin. Your fae ears catch it. His breath was warm against your skin, and you wondered briefly why he had been so touchy as of late.

“What?! Your name…?”

“Yes.You always call me Rhys- call me anything but my full name. We’re closer than that dear.” He whispers, lifting his head up. You huff. You wonder why you feel your body gets hot at the nickname. It was just Rhysand- he gave pet names to others. Right? Your eyes find his violet ones. You were tempted to scream at him again but you saw his tired eyes, and softened. You sigh.

“Fine. But I’ll go with you.” Rhysand spoke before you could say anything else.

——————

It wasn’t just Rhysand that tagged along. Azriel and Cassian did too. Whatever- at least you got to go. Ever since your best friend, Rhysand, returned from under the mountain he’s been weirdly protective. He had always been protective- but now he was outrageously paranoid of anything harming you. It was odd.

You were on a simple mission. Track down a group that has been disturbing some of the night court’s cities, take them out. Simple really. Or so you thought. Once you had successfully tracked the group down, Azriel had stopped any of you from proceeding further. He wanted to observe the band of rouges to see what they were doing. And their powers. You didn’t see a point in it- as you were there. Azriel was there. Cassian was there. Rhysand was there. You four could take out this lowly group in minutes! Or so you thought.

After about three days of restless following the group, it was safe to say you were ready to take them out. You didn’t pay any mind to Cassian trying to stop you from proceeding. Azriel had been scouting the area for any others. Rhysand was with him as back up. Leaving you and Cassian to watch the group. You felt a hand grip your wrist and jerk you back..

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” Cassian whisper-barked at you.

“Cas- I’m hungry. I was just going to get some food.” You whispered sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. His eyes softened he contemplated.

“Fine stay here, don’t move and keep your eyes on them- I’ll go on a quick hunt real quick.” He muttered. You smirked in victory once he left, now it was time to show them that you could be helpful.

————————

“Something’s wrong. I sense it.” Rhysand yelled to Azriel over the wind. There was no other members of the band of rouges around. Azriel flared his wings slightly and nodded in response.

“Let’s head back, I’m sure everything is fine.” He responded.

Rhysand wasted no time and turning swiftly in the air. He started a fast pace back to the camp where the group was resting. Azriel followed suit. Something was wrong. He could sense it. His skin had goosebumps, and he felt restless. He had a shaky feeling of anxiety. Why? He couldn’t figure this out.

The camp came into view, and he was about to dive into the forest to hide himself from the group. But his eyes caught something- a body. A body in the middle of all the men. The men were cheering and whipping it. Rhysand’s eyes sharpened and he felt sick. It was- you. A sense of rage and utter wrath of a thousand burning suns filled him.

Azriel flinched when the whole area went completely dark- it wasn’t nighttime- it was Rhysand’s wrath. He felt a shiver work it’s way up his spine. He caught sight of your naked body being beaten.

A loud book of thunder sounded, causing all the men to pause their fun. They didn’t have time to react when something large hit the ground. Majority of them fell to the floor, scampering. Dust was everywhere.

A tall looming figure with bat wings spread in front of you, covering you. Rhysand. Everything hurt. So fucking bad. You were covered in blood and vomit- whatever they had shoved down your throat was working fast. You felt sick. Vunerable. Everything was so hazy. You didn’t have time to process the screams around you or why. You felt your body collapse. Something was wrong. No- it’d be fine. You’d get flown to Madja and healed and you’d soon wake up. You tried to keep your body up but failed, collapsing to the mud.

Rhysand felt dread at hearing the thump on the ground. There were bodies everywhere. His senses were heightened. The only heartbeat was Azriel’s and yours. But yours was the only one that mattered right now. And it was so slow-

He shoved Azriel away from your collapsed form quickly, cradling your head. Your scent- it was fading. Your skin was so pale. He realized with a sick feeling you were dying. His eyes met your weakly opened one’s. Your eyes started to close.

“Nonononono- cmon we need to get her to Madja. What are you doing?! Let’s go!” He yelled, quickly hailing your body in his arms. Azriel flinched.

“Rhys- it’s too late. It’s an hour flight, and where we are it’s impossible to winnow! And the poison they forced on her has spread mostly.” Azriel whispered. Rhysand ignored his words, shaking his head. His wings flared, preparing for flight.

“Where’s Cassian- get him- we can make it-“

“Rhysand- we fucking can’t. It’s not possible.” Azriel’s words and reality finally seemed to hit Rhysand. Rhysand collapsed in the mud, holding you close to his chest. He was rocking you back and forth, tears falling from his eyes.

He gently caressed your face. Your eyes opened. He whimpered softly at your weak expression. “No.nononononono! It wasn’t suppose to happen like this. There was so much I had planned for you- for us.” Rhysand said. His words were soothing. You felt yourself relax. You felt Rhysand’s talons scrape your mind, and gently broke your barricade. The pain in your body disappeared. You were able to process his words better. Death, you were dying. Us. You had never realized there was an us. You couldn’t help but press your face against your hand. You think you could die at peace like this. You weren’t sure if the tears on your face were his or yours? Maybe both. You were so tired- you felt so relaxed with his warm body and wings covering you. We’re the woods always this quiet? It was getting harder to keep your eyes open. Rhysand’s hold tightened.

Rhysand came to the realization if he was panicked you would feel it- he needed to calm himself for you. It was the least he could do. He took shaky breaths pressing his forehead agaisnt yours. “I’m so sorry..” he muttered agaisnt your skin.

“..you have nothing to be sorry for…” you grunted out. “..I love you Rhysand.”

“Don’t call me that.” He groaned out. Nudging his head against your body gently. Your choked laugh filled his ears.

“I love you so much Rhys.” You said again. He made a noise of pain and kissed your wet eyelids.

“I have loved you with every fiber of my being since the day I met you, and I will continue loving you until the day I die..” He whispered loudly. His lips were soft as they gently pressed to the tip of your nose. He watched as your shaky hand reached forward to wipe his watery eyes. Your fingertips were soft. He savored the moment, closing his eyes. Until he felt your hand fall. His eyes widened open, panic settling in. Your eyes were fighting to stay open. Your chin lifted foward as if to kiss him. He bent forward. His forehead again rested against yours. You were both staring at eachother. Something snapped- a gold tether between you too. You felt your heart throb one last time. And everything went dark.

Rhysand screamed. It was guttal and terrifying to Azriel who stood off to the side giving you two privacy. He felt his heart break. You were dead.

——————

Rhysand refused to let you go. Your corpse remained in his bed- it had been two days after your death. Somehow his magic had kept your body intact and clean. He refused to eat, drink, or even leave your side. He spent his hours curled up agaisnt you, crying and begging for you to come back. You were his mate. He had loved you as much more then a friend for a millennia of years by now, and he had a sneaking hint you were mates. But the mother was so cruel- killing you just as soon as the bond snapped.

His claws dug into your skin gently as he rocked your corpse back and forth. A knock sounded at the door, eliciting a growl from him. Azriel stepped in.

“Rhys. You need to eat. Y/n wouldn’t want you-“

“Don’t say her fucking name!” Rhysand growled, eyes going dark. Azriel shivered in fear at the sudden darkness. Nobody could get to Rhys. It was scary. His brother was slowly killing himself. And they couldn’t do anything about it.

Azriel nodded and left the room, deciding to leave it be. Rhysand curled his wings back around you. He climbed on top of you, gently straddling. A few tears dropped down his face, landing on yours. His forehead met yours.

“Bring her back home- please..” He cried out.

Rhysand flinched. He was hearing things now. Was he in so much pain he was delusional now? He whimpered. He thought he could hear you calling his name. Maybe his time has finally come and he’ll be with you again.

“Rhys..!”

Rhysand jumped, hearing your sickly coughs. You. You. You. You were breathing. He was surely in the afterlife now. His head dropped to your chest, ignoring your cries of his name in favor of hearing your heartbeat. It was there- you were alive.

Rhysand choked on a sob. He didn’t know what to say.

“Rhysand!” You yelled louder. He flinched.

“Get off of me- your suffocating me you big Illyrian baby.” You groaned. He wuickly jumped off of you. Onyl to wrap you in his arms and cradle you to his lap like a child.

“Rhys?” You questioned. His head was pressed to your chest again. Where your heart was. You felt something wet drip down.

“You were dead. Gone- dead. I lost you!” He choked out. “I thought..” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he made a whimpering noise. He was having a full break down.

“Rhys. I’m right here, I’m alive, calm down.” You muttered. Your body was sore but you couldn’t feel much right now. All you could focus on was the weird attached feeling towards the male holding you. How were you alive? You had no idea. But you weren’t mad. That’s for sure.

Rhysand gently pushed you down against his sheets. You were in his bed, in his shirt and boxers. You smelled of him. There wasn’t much to say. He was acting on instinct. His hand roamed your body, as if ensuring you were real. His wings cradled you, blocking out the world. He grabbed your face, turning it, inspecting you.

“Rhysand!” You snapped. He flinched in response. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m fine.” You repeated trying to calm his mother hen. You could feel his emotions now.

“No. You’re not going anywhere. That’s for sure.” He whispered, eyes holding a dark look. You nodded in response. You flushed slightly, remembering. He was your mate. He finally smiled down at you. It was slightly crazed, but it was better than crying. His eyes were puffy.

“I’m here to stay.” You whispered as his lips slowly met yours. Your first kiss with him.

—————-

Rhysand was very clingy. The last two weeks have been spent with him up your ass. The inner circle was delighted to see you alive. And Cassian begged forgiveness. He thought it was his fault. You assured him, it wasn’t his fault. Which led to Rhysand sitting you down and giving you a very long lecture. You weren’t allowed on missions until next starfall. Of course, it annoyed you. But you also decided to relent and obey Rhysand this time. Armen said you were a miracle and not to question your resurrection.

You and Rhysand had been taking it slow as far as the bond. It strictly stayed to small pecks on the lips. He wanted to ravish you- but he wanted you to be comfortable with him. You were. How couldn’t you be? Azriel told you how he stayed beside your body. It made you tear up. And now, all that was left of the ‘accident’ was a protective Rhys. He refused to leave your side for more than an hour. Sleeping arrangements were made where you could sleep in his room or yours, but best belive he had to be in the same room. If you didn’t want him touching you that night he was more then happy to sit in a chair and do paperwork (and watch you as you sleep but you didn’t know that.) But you always ended up wanting him by you. It brung comfort.

You were ready for more. Specifically tonight. You convinced Rhysand that you would be okay while he joined his brothers at Rita’s. But you knew he’d be back within two hours. And would waste no time attaching to you. So you worked fast. You made yourself look pretty in the mirror feeling slightly self conscious. You felt a shift in the air realizing Rhysand was near. You rushed to the kitchen looking at the meal you prepared. You were shaking. This was embarrassing. What if he didn’t want you?

“Love?” Rhysand’s sweet voice filled the air as he sensed your distress and rushed into the dining room. He paused upon seeing you. You were gorgeous. No female on this planet could hold a candle to your beauty. He swallowed the saliva building in his mouth. You were standing in one of those sundresses. He gulped. You were clammy. His eyes slid to the plate of food where he usually sat for dinner. His eyes slid back to yours.

He felt himself harden. “Y/n?” He whispered.

“I’m accepting the bond.” You whispered.

“Say it again.” He demanded.

“I’m accepting the bond Rhys.” You said louder, feeling embarrassed until he plopped down on the chair. He wasted no time in devouring his food. It was gone in under two minutes. His eyes found yours again.

“I suggest you sit and eat your plate. Because once I get you in my room you’re not coming out for a very long while.” His pupils were dilated and his wings were flared. He was holding himself back.

You certainly didn’t waste any time eating your plate.

#acotar #acosf #imagine #x reader #azriel #acotar 5 #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel acotar #Rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand smut #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand angst #rhysand and feyre

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foundress0fnothing · 3 months ago

Text

For @beesays. I’m sorry this update took so long 💕

So, so, so many thanks to @violetasteracademic for helping work out the plot issues that have been stymieing me for months and for betaing this chapter (aka making me slow down and actually do some worldbuilding). ILY ♥️

Read on ao3 or under the cut!

October, 12 years ago

“You flatter me, darling.”

Rhys studied Feyre’s work as he leaned against the wooden frame that held their easels—a habit she hadn’t managed to discourage no matter how many times she had shoved it out from under him. He always righted himself with a frustratingly feline grace and a smirk before settling down to pester her for the day.

Feyre held up her pink oil pastel stick threateningly, and as she watched Rhys take a healthy step back out of fear that she might smear it on his black sweater (information she gleefully filed away for the next time leaned on their stand), the bell rang to signal the end of the school day.

She sighed and dropped the stick back into her supply case, then grabbed a cloth to wipe her hands off. “Stop peeking.” Even so, she tilted her head to look at the portrait of Rhys she’d been working on. It bore the swirls of color punctuated by harsh black lines that were slowly solidifying into a style unique to her, but it was still a good likeness of him. There was something in the set of the jaw, in the spark of the eyes, that was quintessentially Rhys—his joking mockery, his quiet pride. She was pleased with him—with it.

Feyre turned to gather the rest of her things, but Rhys had already bundled them into her bag and hoisted it up on his shoulder. She scowled up at him, and he raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong, darling?”

“I can carry my own bag.” She stood up and held out her hand expectantly.

Rhys ignored it and turned to walk out the door, calling out over his shoulder,“But why would you?”

“Asshole,” Feyre grumbled to herself before quickening her pace to try and catch up with him. He was halfway down the hall by the time she managed to reach him. She yanked on her bag, and Rhys let her pull it off of him with an exaggerated sigh.

“Don’t say I never did anything nice for you.”

“Yes, because stealing my bag is the definition of ‘nice.’”

“It looked heavy.”

“Rhysand—”

“Darling, not my full name…”

“Such a drama queen.”

“You like it.”

Feyre only hummed, but the grin Rhys flashed her told her that he knew he was right.

As they reached the front doors and started walking toward the parking lot along with all the other students streaming toward cars and buses, Rhys grabbed her hand and started steering her toward where his car was parked. “Do you have to go home right away?”

Feyre thought of what was waiting for her at home—a sullen father, an empty fridge, fighting with her sisters over a hot shower. She had already worked a shift at the cafe that morning, waking up at 3:30 to squeeze in a few hours before the school day started, and Alis, the owner, was adamant that Feyre only worked one shift a day. So whatever Rhys was planning, it had to be better than what her evening would otherwise hold. “No—why?”

“I have someone I want you to meet. I think you’ll like each other.”

“Who? One of your soccer bros?” Feyre looked up at him as he slowed, realizing that they had arrived at his car. It was far nicer than she thought a high schooler needed—some flashy Mercedes-Benz —and she tried not to let herself balk at the casual display of wealth.

If he noticed her discomfort, Rhys didn’t comment on it. “Not quite. Although I’m happy to introduce you to Cassian if you’re looking for the typical asshole athlete experience.”

“Isn’t that what I’m getting from being here with you?” Feyre teased.

Some emotion flashed across his face, but it was gone before she had a chance to guess at what it might have been. For all that they had grown close in art class—being forced to study each others’ faces for weeks had a way of bringing people together, she supposed—so much about Rhys was still a mystery.

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and see, darling.” He had come around to the passenger side of the car as if to open the door for her, and waited with an expectant expression.

Feyre studied him. She liked what she saw in him, despite the super star athlete persona he projected to everyone else. And she wondered if she’d like him even more if he let her in enough to unravel the parts of him that were still mysterious. She hoped so, anyway.

So she arched an eyebrow. “Well? Are you going to get the door for me like a gentleman?”

“I’m not a gentleman, Feyre,” he purred as he pulled the door open and waited for her to slide in. “I’m only here to get a better view of the prettiest girl in school as she slides into my car.” Rhys looked her up and down and winked before closing the door behind her.

She rolled her eyes and flipped him off through the window. “Prick.”

“I heard that,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“I meant it.”

“I hope so.”

They bickered back and forth on the short drive from the school to the town center until Rhys pulled up in front of the ice cream shop.

Feyre frowned at him. “Ice cream? In October? Shouldn’t they be closed for the season by now?”

Rhys scoffed as he climbed out of the car. “Ice cream is the correct choice for any weather.”

“Rhys, that is absolutely not true.”

“And,” he said, as he held open the door for her, “I wasn’t going to bring you to Alis’. As lovely as it is, I didn’t want to ask you to spend more time today at your job.”

Before she could ask Rhys how he knew where she worked, a voice belonging to someone she had never met before called out her name. “Feyre Archeron. I’ve been begging for him to introduce us for weeks.”

“Yes, thank you, Mor.” Rhys looked slightly mortified. “Feyre, may I introduce you to the perpetual pain in my ass, my cousin, Morrigan Datiles?”

“Hi, Mor?” Mor repeated Feyre’s greeting, an incredulous tone coloring her voice. “It’s been a decade since I last saw you and all you have to say is ‘Hi, Mor’?”

“Yes?” Feyre grimaced, looking up to meet Mor’s eyes in the mirror.

“I had heard…” Mor trailed off, her eyes flicking away from Feyre’s for a moment. But then she took a breath, and started in again. “I had heard that things with Tamlin didn’t end up working out.”

“Nope.” Feyre popped the p at the end of the word and broke Mor’s gaze, grabbing the mascara tube that lay on the bathroom counter and returning her focus to her reflection in the mirror. She hoped that Mor would pick up on her less-than-subtle hint that the events of the last year were not something she was interested in discussing right here, right now. Or ever, she thought privately.

But it didn’t matter whether Feyre was interested in discussing things or not; Mor had never been one to leave things alone.

“I thought you couldn’t wait to leave home. That was your one big dream. You were going to move out to New York and open your gallery and—”

“Well, dreams change,” Feyre interrupted, not wanting to hear a litany of her decade of failure. And one that wouldn’t even include the worst of it all—the pieces of herself that she had given up, one by one, until she was nothing more than Tamlin’s fiancée who could offer an interesting art history tidbit here or there so he could impress his coworkers with his bohemian artist of a partner.

And it wasn’t just herself she had lost, she thought, glancing up at Mor. The other woman was studying her with an expression of something close enough to pity that Feyre felt herself bristle and turn back to Mor. “My dream right now is to not look like shit, serve this party so Nesta doesn’t fire me, and then go home to sleep it off.”

“O-kay.” Mor raised her hands defensively as she drew out the word, the pitying look changing to something sharper, which didn’t feel much better to Feyre. With a devastatingly effortless hair flip, Mor turned to face the mirror, touching up her lipstick and washing her hands.

Feyre let out a silent huff of air. For all that she had hoped to avoid interacting with her old friends today, she didn’t want this to be the way her first time seeing Mor in a decade went. They had been friends—good, close friends—once, and even though they weren’t anymore, it didn’t feel right to Feyre not to honor that closeness they used to have.

“I’m sorry. For snapping.” She bit her lip and tried to find the right words. “It’s been … shit. Obviously. And now I’m back, and Nesta let me join Valkyrie Events, and—” Feyre could feel herself rambling but couldn’t seem to stop now that she had finally started explaining herself to Mor, “—and I don’t normally have to serve the events but Dierdre is out, and so they need me, and it’s not how I wanted everyone to see me, but—”

“Everyone, huh?” Mor interrupted, a skeptical look on her face. Her expression was still more severe than usual, but something familiar, almost playful, flashed in her eyes.

“Yes, everyone, Mor.”

“You had to know that people were going to see you now that you’re back in town. Velaris isn’t that big.”

“I’m aware.” Feyre scoffed, as if she hadn’t complained endlessly about that exact thing when they were back in high school. “I just didn’t want them to see me like this.” She gestured at the black Valkyrie Events server uniform she was wearing and then crossed her arms.

“You wanted a big, fuck-you-all, revenge-dress moment?” Mor wrinkled her nose.

“Maybe,” Feyre sniffed, ignoring the slight prickling of tears she felt in the corners of her eyes. She could sense Mor’s disapproval, but she didn’t care. Was it so wrong to want the first time that people recognized her as Feyre Archeron to be when she could look cool and unaffected and devastatingly hot, and not when she was sweaty and overtired and offering them some dry appetizer?

“Feyre,” Mor’s voice had turned gentle, having picked up on her defensiveness, “no one here is laughing at you. You don’t need a revenge dress moment. Not for any of us, anyway. We’re—” Mor cut herself off, but Feyre could feel the word “friends” hand in the air for a second.

“Mor…” Feyre started, hoping to smooth over the awkwardness somehow, but Mor held up a hand.

She looked Feyre over for a few beats before nodding, clearly having decided something.

“I’ll help you.”

“What?” Whatever Feyre had been expecting her to say, it wasn’t that.

“I’ll help you. I’ll get you through this party without having to deal with everyone,” and the emphasis she placed on the word made it clear that she knew exactly who Feyre meant. “As best I can, anyway. A reunion can be on your own terms—although, some things might be different. People have changed. Moved on.”

Mor paused, and then smiled, the first real smile Feyre had seen from her. “But not me, bitch.” The sudden change in tone caught Feyre off guard, and she snorted. “This is our reunion and I have not moved on, and so after we make it through this party, we’re going out and you’re paying for all the drinks I want.”

“As long as you don’t want more than two drinks, I think I can swing that.” Feyre smiled tentatively.

“It’s a date,” Mor said. “Now please let me give you some lipstick. This clean girl look is tragically too high-school-Feyre to stop everyone from recognizing you.”

After a nod to signal her permission, Mor started brushing the color over Feyre’s lips, and for a beat, it felt like they were still back in high school—Feyre skipping sophomore lit and Mor using her free period to gossip and hang out without any of the boys around.

But there were subtle differences too. Mor had clearly grown into herself—she had always been beautiful, but there was a subtle confidence that Feyre didn’t remember her friend having at eighteen. And there was so much about her that Feyre didn’t know anymore. They were friendly again, sure, and Feyre thought—hoped, really—that there was the potential for them to be close again too. But all of that would take time.

Time that Feyre resolved to make. Whatever else happened tonight, she and Mor wouldn’t be strangers any longer.

“God, you look hot.” Mor looked over her handiwork with pride, having dusted a few other products across Feyre’s hair and face while Feyre was lost in her thoughts. Feyre looked at herself in the mirror and couldn’t stop from sucking in a quiet breath. She did look hot—Mor’s makeup skills remained flawless—but the face staring back at Feyre reminded her too much of the woman she’d been with Tamlin, someone made-up, polished, quietly perfect, and entirely forgettable. She would take looking like her messy high school self any day over the pretty wallflower she had become to fit into Tamlin’s life.

But that wasn’t the point of tonight. Tonight was about not looking like herself. What better way to do that than looking like the person she had pretended to be for a decade?

“Okay, last thing.” Mor stepped out of her heels—black and staggeringly high with red bottoms—and nudged them over to Feyre. “Size 8, right?”

“Mor, I’m not wearing your heels,” Feyre balked. “I’ll be fine in my vans. You can’t be barefoot.”

Mor just looked at her as if she was insane. “I have a backup pair in my car. Who do you think I am?”

Feyre rolled her eyes and stepped into the shoes, hating the pressure and strain she immediately felt in her calves and back. “I’m a waitress tonight, Mor. I don’t think heels are practical,” she all but whined.

“Tough. They’re penance for leaving me with just the boys. I had to make new friends, Feyre. It was so much work.” She paused, and her expression turned more serious. “You should meet them, Fey. After all of this tonight. I think you’d like them.”

“I…” Feyre didn’t know how to respond. Mor wasn’t wrong, she probably would like them. But making friends, putting down more roots—it was a sign that she’d be stuck in Velaris, just like she always worried. And while she didn’t mind it as much as she once might have, the thought of making a life here was a little galling.

As if reading her mind, Mor added, gently, “You need to start building a life again.”

“I know. I will. I am.” Feyre sighed. “I just need to get through this party first.”

A few hours later, Feyre stood by the door to the rooftop with a tray balanced in her hand.

She had begged Nesta to let her sit out the first few hours of the party while the sun was sinking in the background, arguing (not incorrectly) that she should practice loading and holding trays first because she had never waitressed before.

Nesta had agreed, referencing some bowl Feyre had dropped and broken when they were kids and then subsequently ignoring the middle finger Feyre had thrown her way. She only looked Feyre up and down before wrinkling her nose and walking back toward the office. “Don’t trip over your stripper heels and ruin my party.”

“It’s not your party,” Feyre had called out after her.

“It’s my company.” The door snicked shut after that, effectively giving Nesta the last word.

Feyre had stuck her tongue out at the door, never feeling more like a younger sibling than she did in that moment, and made her way, feet aching already, to the kitchens.

But now that night had fallen, Feyre knew she couldn’t put off the inevitable much longer. Tray of mini sliders in hand, she stepped out on the rooftop and surveyed the space.

And smiled.

Because the party was perfect. Everything she had envisioned, all the hard work she had put into making that vision come alive—it was all there in the glowing lights, the joyful guests, the miraculously still upright flower arch. It wasn’t quite the same as the paintings she used to create, but it was the first thing she had made in a long time that felt alive—that made her feel alive.

Feyre hoped it was everything Azriel and his fiance—Eris, she had overheard while hiding out in the kitchens—could have wanted.

She spotted them talking with an older woman near the bar. Azriel looked much the same as he had a decade ago—dressed all in black, still breathtakingly beautiful and darkly brooding—although Feyre could tell, even from a distance, that he had a lightness in his fiance’s presence that wasn’t there before. Eris was tall and lithe and dressed immaculately in a dark green sweater that set off the red of his hair. His arm was around Azriel’s waist, the gesture familiar and easy.

They looked at home in the splendor of the rooftop party—at home, and happy, and in love. Feyre breathed a sigh of relief, of contentment for her once-friend.

Which was then disturbed by a pointed throat clearing from Nesta, who had someone snuck up on her. “I realize that you haven’t been a server before, but I had hoped that the concept of a passed appetizer would have been evident enough even for you, Fey.”

“Yes, thank you, Nes. World’s best boss.”

Feyre didn’t give her a chance to respond, because she knew that Nesta would only agree with her statement, instead steeling herself to begin moving through the crowd.

After the awkward agony of approaching the first few clusters of people and mumbling “Mini slider?” at them while avoiding eye contact, she felt herself relax. No one looked at her, really—they just took the food and continued with their conversations. The most anyone offered her was a perfunctory “thanks,” and Feyre wouldn’t have had it any other way.

A few times, out of the corner of her eye, she sensed Mor’s presence as she flitted amongst the guests (and presumably steered them away from Feyre), but no one else at the party gave her more than a passing glance to see what food she was carrying. She was perversely grateful for all the practice she had gotten over the last few years at fading into the background; it was almost second nature at this point to duck her head, to skirt around the edges of the room, to be completely forgettable.

When she only had a few things left on her tray, Feyre limped over to the bar and leaned against its surface, desperately trying to relieve some of the pain in her feet. Mor’s ability to weaponize guilt was unmatched.

As if she had been summoned, Mor appeared by her side with a knowing twinkle in her eyes, apparently pleased at Feyre’s suffering.

“Here,” she said, holding out her half-full cosmo. “Sneak a sip. You look like you need it.”

She wrinkled her nose and gently shoved the proffered drink back in Mor’s direction. “I’m working.”

“No one will know.” Mor whined, her brown eyes wide and pleading, and Feyre snorted at the memory of her friend turning that exact look on teachers in high school who dared mark her late for classes that she was in fact late to.

Still, she shook her head. “Nesta will know.”

“She’s not that scary.”

Feyre only arched an eyebrow at that absolutely false statement, and Mor shrugged, uncowed, before taking a sip and saying, “Just make up an excuse. Tell her I bullied you into it.”

“Oh, so just the truth then?”

Mor giggled and then pulled Feyre into a hug with one arm, the hand with the cosmo holding it just out of jostling range despite Feyre’s surprised stumble into the embrace. “I missed this, Feyre. I missed you.”

She sighed, trying to ignore the stab of guilt Mor’s sincerity conjured up, “I missed you too, Mor.”

“Good.” She tossed her hair for emphasis, and Feyre couldn’t help grinning at her ridiculous friend. “I’ve got to go distract people before they realize who I’m talking to. But don’t forget—you still owe me drinks.” And taking the last two sliders, Mor stepped away, back into the crowd of guests.

Realizing that Mor had just granted her a reprieve from the rooftop by clearing her tray, Feyre too began weaving through the party, keeping her head down and trying to make herself small (well, as small as she could be while wearing Mor’s heels) as she returned to the kitchens.

She had just reached the doorway where Nesta still stood when a round of applause began, and she startled and whirled around to face the party. As she looked at all the guests staring back at her, Feyre realized belatedly that she had been so focused on her escape that she hadn’t noticed the hush falling over the crowd, or that Eris had begun speaking and thanking all the guests, or that he had reached out a hand to indicate Nesta’s position by the door so everyone could thank Valkyrie Events.

Feyre could feel the eyes that slid between her and Nesta, and she inhaled sharply as she imagined the flare of recognition that must be happening.

The youngest Archeron girl…

Hadn’t she left?

Good of her family to—

—Tamlin Greenthorne?

And so, without sparing the guests a second glance, Feyre turned and fled into the relative safety of the restaurant.

Maybe she could hide out in the kitchens for the rest of the party. Nesta would get over it. Probably. Or maybe no one actually recognized her. Right? It had been a decade, and who really cared anyway? Everyone had moved on. Everyone. Mor and Azriel and Cassian and—

“Feyre, stop!”

She knew that voice. The rich baritone made her stomach clench—hope, nervousness, hurt, all at once. It was too much.

Without turning around, she kicked off Mor’s stupid heels, bent down, picked them up, and then kept walking. She heard his footsteps growing closer, and, almost unconsciously, threw one of the shoes behind her, feeling a perverse giddiness at the sound of the thwack and the “What the fuck, Feyre? At my face?” that let her know she hadn’t missed her target.

She kept moving, hoping that a shoe to the face had been enough of a deterrent, but no—he wouldn’t take a hint, wouldn’t leave well enough alone, wouldn’t let her pretend that she had managed to go undetected. Asshole. Feyre raised the other shoe to throw it too—out of petulance and irritation more than a belief that it actually stop him—Rhys—from catching her, when a large, firm hand grabbed her wrist and spun her around.

“I wouldn’t do that, Feyre darling.”

#feysand #feyre x rhysand #feysand fanfiction #acotar fanfiction

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madameraccoon · 2 months ago

Text

Falling hard (Rhycien) | Part 1

(Masterlist)

Rhys and Lucien have been in a loving relationship for years, but something seems off. Lucien feels distant and Rhys is determined to understand why.

They were lying in bed, the window open to feel the cool night air after a stifling day in the city. All the concrete around breathing the heat of the day back out.

The silence in the room was strange. Not really oppressing, or hurtful just... unusual. Where there would usually be easy words and lazy fingers tracing circles on the skin, now there was silence. Rhys didn't really know what had changed and could not pinpoint when this had started, but he wasn't going to keep ignoring it.

"You're thinking awfully loud," said Rhys. "And don't say it's nothing, love, because you're a bad liar and we all know it."

Lucien remained silent, maybe offended by his impression of an American accent. Any other day he would have bitten right back with a witty comment. Something along the lines of I'll have you know I don't speak like that, not anymore or if Dick Van Dyke just played a Uno Reverse Card. Thinking about how things were, made Rhys's heart hurt a bit.

He softened his tone and turned to lay a hand on his boyfriend's heart.

"Hey, Luce, I'm serious. You haven't been yourself lately."

The other one sighed but at least he put a hand over Rhys's. It wasn't an answer, but at least it was something.

"I'm sorry, Rhys. I didn't want to kill the mood," he finally whispered.

"Not really killing the mood, per se. At least you waited after sex to get all mopey. It's just... I don't know what's gotten into you. Is it work?"

In the blue light he saw the angles of his mouth twitching a bit, fighting off a smile. "Yeah, at least we got a good fuck."

"I'm serious, though. I know you've been under a lot of stress, lately, with the new stuff you're working on. Or is it the new team from Boston? Maybe I ca-"

"Don't, Rhys. Don't go full PM mode. You don't have to get back to the office. You have your first solo project to finish, and we both know that being in the office would not help at all. You would get antsy and then start chiming in, because you have tons of good ideas."

"So... you are distant because you want for me to concentrate on my personal project?" To Rhys that didn't make a lot of sense, but he was sure there was more to it. Determined to get his answers, he didn't relent. Doubt started creeping in the back of his mind. "You... don't want me in the office?"

Lucien rose on his elbows and watched him in disbelief. "What the fuck are you saying? Of course I'd very much prefer to have you there all day."

"Then what?" said Rhys. He sat up. "You've been distant and, as it's natural, I'm bloody worried. You keep saying nothing is wrong, but I can see you, love. So, tell me, what's bothering you?" He did his best to get his tone back to the soft one they reserved for pillow talk, but the spell had already been broken.

Lucien slouched back down and interlaced his fingers behind his head. The pose highlighted his lean shape, and Rhys fought the urge to touch him.

After a long pause, Lucien sighed again. "You mentioned the Boston team. There's something in the Boston team that's been bothering me..."

Progress, at least.

"Is it that tosser... what's his name? Tamlin? "

The other scoffed. "Did I tell you he is not only a tosser - he said the last word mocking his boyfriend's british accent - but also a homophobe?" That didn't surprise Rhys. The blonde hunk looked stupid enough to be, with his ridiculous haircut that screamed "Thor wannabe" and the backhanded comments. Fragile masculinity at its best. No wonder his girlfriend dumped him just before his departure for the UK.

"Did he say anything... untoward to you?"

"Untoward? Rhys, he asked me what turned me gay, one day, casually over lunch. That guy is so dense. But no, that's not what's bothering me. Something else, someone else."

Rhys hadn't met the team in person, since he hadn't been in the office for some time, finishing his first solo star project at home. The firm was pumped at the idea of having a future Starchitect working with them. He had a vague idea thanks to Lucien's office tales.

"So... it's not Tamlin the Tosser, not Bron, since apparently he doesn't speak to you. I didn't take Alis for the dramatic type."

And then it hit him. The redhead noticed.

"Yeah. I guess you get it, now."

Lucien had indeed told him about another one of the team. Fiona, Farah... ah, no, Feyre.

"What's with Feyre?" Rhys asked, tentatively. The first week, Luce didn't shut up a moment about her. About her brilliant ideas, her sharp personality, eye for details and, of course, about her fantastic power suits. He realised then that he had stopped talking about her right before shutting him out.

"I don't know. I'm finding her... so attractive. She's gorgeous, talented and fuck, those legs. But then I feel guilty every time I have these thoughts. I'm with you, I shouldn't find a coworker attractive!"

"You've always had a keen eye for beauty, aesthetic beauty. I don't understand why it's hitting you so hard. I'm not jealous, love. If you want to rant about your excessively attractive co-worker with me you can. We can even comment on her together if it would make you feel better" Rhys reassured him. He scooted closer and intertwined their legs.

He seemed to open up a bit. "I know you're not jealous, Rhys, and I appreciate it. But I don't think mine is just aesthetic appreciation. I can't stop thinking about her. I think I might be crushing on a woman."

"Need I remind you that this is exactly what being bi entails?"

Luce finally huffed a half-laugh. "I know what being bi means, smartypants. Didn't you hear that I have a crush on another person? I'm with you, why do I have a crush on someone else?"

"I thought you were bothered by the fact that she's a woman, soz." Rhys answered.

"So? No answer to that?"

"Luce, having a crush and acting on it are two completely different things. You had this crush for how long... a month? And yet, for every single day of said month you chose me, every day," he explained and then he started tracing circles on Luce's shoulder. "We boast having very open communication so much-"

"That's just because it's easy, compared to what your brothers have with their girlfriends," joked Lucien.

"Don't interrupt me, foxy. I mean, we have very good communication. You can talk to me about anything, so thank you for telling me about what you feel. Aside from that, I know that sometimes people who have relationship can have crushes on others, but we've been together for four years. We live together. We have a life together. Fuck it, your mum is probably waiting for us to elope. I trust you to choose freely who you want to be with. I will not get mad because you like a pair of long toned legs."

"You should really see those legs..."

"Maybe in one of those pinstriped power suits you can't shut up about" he joked and Lucien turned abruptly to him. "What? I listen when you talk. I understand why you find her so attractive."

"You'd like her. Yesterday she showed up with this killer pumps. I had some thoughts that were not safe for work."

Rhys felt lighter finally knowing what was going on in his boyfriend's mind. And he really did understand. He had been surprised it had never happened to any of them. He laughed and closed the space between them capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

"You know, I'm glad you're not jealous, but I also want you to know that I will distance myself from her. It doesn't sound fair towards you. Unless you have a super-hot colleague you want to ogle, then we would be even."

Gosh, he loved him so much. He was willing to distance himself from the only decent person in the team he was working full time with just to make him comfortable. Out of respect for their relationship. He started kissing him again, well aware that if they kept going, they would not fall asleep for a long time. Lucien melted against him, understanding the love declaration behind every nip at his bottom lip.

When they parted, Rhys felt the need to add something. "I don't want you to me miserable at work. You work well with her, you get along, she's fun and a talented coworker. Just, don't shut me off again. Let's face this together, as a couple."

"Okay" sighed Lucien before leaving three light pecks on his neck. Rhys groaned when the fourth became an open-mouthed kiss right under his ear.

---

Hi there! This is my first ever fan-fiction in English! Writing this has been so much fun!

I'm 7 (8?) year late to the fandom? Yes. Do I care? Not really.

If anyone ever reads this, I would love some feedback.

Inspired by A Completely Inappropriate Series of Events by @illyrianrhys and The Lucky Ones by @bibutterflies

#Lucien x rhysand #lucien vanserra #rhysand #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #modern au #Rhys is an architect #angst and feels #Lucien having a crush on Feyre #Falling hard #rhycien #poly!acotar

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moonlightazriel · 1 year ago

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Son of the Darkness Epilogue /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Hidden for so long The court of shadows thrived, and things were great until the high lord's death, now the next in line should assume the crown of high lord of shadows, will he accept his duties?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 625

Notes: It’s a bittersweet feeling as SOD is finished, this was my first multichapter series and I love it so much, it was a very nice journey.

Son of the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Y/N sighed, her hands resting on her desk as she sipped the warm tea, a soft knock sounded on the other side of the door, and as the door opened, a male stepped in.

“High Lady.” He bowed his head a little. “This appeared today, it’s for you.” He approached the table and left the letter on top of the papers that were scattered around.

“Thank you, Yur.” She said and the male just nodded, leaving her office. She reached for the letter, no name on it, but she opened the envelope, grabbing the paper inside.

“Dear Y/N!

It’s been a while since we saw each other, things have been great ever since our last encounter. Nyx is growing up so fast, it makes my heart ache with the change.

Nesta and Cassian are happily enjoying their mated life, training the priestesses and whoever wants to join them in combat.

Elain is out in Spring Court with Lucien, the two of them are doing a great job in rebuilding Spring alongside Tamlin, and slowly learning about their bond. Elain told me she plans to accept it soon.

We’ve been happy, and we miss you dearly, but I’m afraid things aren’t as good as we thought, as things with the Mortal Queens are still tense and a new threat looms in the dark.

Rhys doesn’t want to disturb, he says that you and Az need your peace, but I know he is distressed, that he hasn’t been sleeping, fearing that we’re forced to go to battle again.

From a High Lady to another, I beg for your help. We need to prepare for whatever is coming.

Love, Feyre!”

The words made her heart twist on her chest, what could it be now? She clenched her fists, the thought of another thing to disturb their well deserved peace made her blood boil.

She got up, going after her mate, the letter clutched in hands. She found him by the sparring ring, Eris was there, she had no idea they were even coming today. Eva quickly wrapped her from behind.

“I missed you baby.” She says and Y/N smiles at her.

“We missed you too.” She replies, still feeling tense. Azriel immediately turns to her, blocking Eris and striding towards his wife.

“Something wrong?” He asks, feeling her distress through the bond. His hand rested on her belly.

“They need us.” She said, letter in hand. Azriel quickly reads through it.

“I’m sorry but we can’t go.” He replies.

“Of course we can, I still can handle myself Az.” He rolled his eyes.

“You’re four months pregnant, woman.” He pointed and Y/N shrugged.

“I still beat your ass any time.” She argues. “I’m not dying Azriel, I can fight just as well as I could.” Azriel held his mate closer.

“Please, reconsider.” He pouted and she pinched his cheek.

“No! Now we need to get ready, all of us.” She looked around, Eva and Eris nodded but Azriel still didn’t want her risking her life.

“There’s nothing I can say to make you give up?” He begged.

“I never ran away from danger, and I certainly don’t plan to do it now.” She rubbed her belly.

“Okay, but if I feel like you’re in danger, no matter how small, I’m protecting you, and only you, you’re my priority.” He warned.

“Such a Mother Hen.” She joked, pulling her mate in for a kiss. “We will be safe Az, with you, we’re always safe.” She reassured him.

“I can’t say no to my mate.” He finally gave in. “I bet they will be quite shocked about you.” He pointed to the round belly forming.

“Let’s just say that I love to do a big entrance.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Taglist: @allison-rosewood-maximoff @devilsfoodcake22 @fieldofdaisiies @valeridarkness @brekkershadowsinger @margssstuff @patdsinner33 @justdreamstars @dr4g0ngirl

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #sarahjmaas #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel x reader #night court #azriel x y/n #velaris #son of the darkness #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 years ago

Text

All the stars are shining bloody red

Next chapter

a/n a fever dream of an idea but when it hits you it does. This is a song I suggest you play for reference. So enjoy this little something something. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

summary: just what happens when an innocent night at the pleasure house leads to something much bigger, making two lost soles collide.

warning: suggestive content, pleasure house, mention of sexual interactions, nudity, alcohol.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"You bunch are no fun", Mor huffed over her fifth glass of wine. She's been trying to drag the whole family to the pleasure house at the side of Velaris ever since her wild night out with Emerie. And don't get me wrong, it was something they used to do. Some nights at Rita's were even wilder than what any pleasure house could provide, and yet the hesitation lingered.

"I have a set of breasts to look at already", Cassian slurred, his hand reaching for Nesta's chest, but she swiftly slapped his fingers away, glaring at him. "You are not getting the point", Mor sighed. "I'm not dragging you there for a gang bang or to look for someone to drag into your bed", she was perfectly aware that everyone in the family had settled. Solid relationships all around. Well, except for Azriel. Yet that was a whole different story. So Azriel, for that matter, might take full advantage of the place while at it.

"Quite frankly, I doubt anyone who goes there on a Tuesday night is there for a fuck", Mor swirls the red substance in her glass, earning a nod from Emerie, "It's like nothing I've seen before", the female breathed. "We've been trying to figure out what and how they do it, but...", and they had returned with big eyes, disbelief, and satisfaction lingering all over. Did it fuel others' curiosity? Yes. Just to be honest, no one believed it could be anything that could beat one of the sultry numbers in Rita's.

"Fine", Rhys states after silence falls, "Let's go, get this done and over with". Both Nesta and Feyre jump up, going straight for Mor, squealing in excitement. "Darling, if you were that desperate, you should have said", the high lord crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk, but Feyre only shrugged, "We would have gone with or without you boys, sorry". Cassian lets out a grumble as he too gets up from the comfy sofa, "If my head and nuts ain't blown away by the end of this...", Everyone chuckles, even Nesta has a smirk on her face. It's Azriel who has a tight frown on his, however. "Prepare for disappointment, brother", the shadow singer says, downing his glass of whiskey swiftly. "If you'll be a grumpy ass, don't bother going, Azriel", Mor stated firmly. Azriel knew that no one could come between her and her night. That was a well tested fact. He felt Elain reaching for his hand, and a part of him wanted to drop it because it just didn't feel right tonight. But he didn't, because being the only one without someone to return home to was painful enough.

When they finally got there the place was jam-packed. Azriel unleashed his shadows. Doing a quick safety check never hurts. After all, the whole family was here. So he had to make sure there was no harm around the corner. To his surprise, his shadows recognized a lot of noble members of Velaris. Scratch that there were day court and autumn males here. The back table was occupied by Helion. "Rhys", Azriel said directly through his high lord's mental shields. Azriel could tell that Rhys too had clocked on to the fact that this was attracting too much attention. Attention they didn't know was brewing here. "Listen around; count the names", The order was clear enough, so Azriel did just that. How long did Mor knew about all of this and said nothing? Fucking Mor, Azriel grumbled in his head.

Just before Azriel could unleash yet another set of his shadows, the place fell into complete darkness. Some squeals of surprise echoed around the room, followed by laughter and murmuring. The cool mist started streaming from the platform right in front of the tables. The first sounds of the music silenced everyone. A huge moon light up the place, dashing the yellow gleam all over, and the silhouettes of what Azriel assumed were the females who performed here come into view.

"You are so beautiful to me", the most velvet voice sang out, and Azriel's heart stopped for a second. His whole attention was now on the stage. The black fabrics fall from the ceiling, and bodies dressed in deep satin lingerie twist around them. Ahs and ohs fall from the people watching, but Azriel's eyes are not leaving the figure in the middle. "You are so beautiful to me. Can't you see?", it lulls. The anticipation of seeing the face behind the voice was so intense that it nearly drove Azriel out of his seat. He's so lost in it that voice he doesn't even notice that the female is the one twirling her hands and sending ripples of mist to swirl around almost everyone in the room. The gleam caresses people's faces, twirling their hair.

"You're everything I hoped for", nor does Azriel feel the same mist crawling up his arms. Slowly. Soothingly. "You're everything I need". His breath hitches in his throat as he feels the softest fingers touching his jaw. "You are so beautiful timo me" Because the smallest of stars start falling across the room, and it's enough to cast a spell of light over your face. The deep blue eyes looking straight at him. The deepest blue he had ever seen, and what a blue it was. And your hair is so wavy and long. Ocean green dances there. Hints of the deep purple of the waves But are you looking at him? Is that your finger touching him? There's no one else in the room. Azriel sees no one all of a sudden. It's just you and him. And you're singing. Singing so beautifully that he's ready to rip his heart out of his chest and serve it on a platter for you.

And then it all ends with the booming sound of music. His eyes follow your twirling body, dancing among the other females. One minute you're there, and then you're gone. Azriel jumps up from his chair before his vision becomes clear again, and he's back in the room full of people. The fact that he had just jumped up like that made a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He turns his head to the side, where Elain is pressing tissues to her dress, and sees a fallen glass right by the edge of the table. He must have knocked it over.

"Yep, I came internally", Cassian states and that's when Azriel's eyes fall over his family. Everyone's eyes are hazy. As if all they had done all night was smoke hallucinogenic herbs. It's Rhys, though, whose eyes are sharp as he catches Azriel's gaze. "Fucking told you", Mor is leaning against her hand, looking at the stage longingly. "Fucking told you".

Get them out and back to the house. Meet me here in twenty. Back door. No weapons. Rhysand's voice pierces Azriel's mind, and all he can do is nod before his high lord turns to his mate. Brushing a strand of hair from her face. He leans in to kiss her, and Azriel quickly lowers his eyes. And then Rhys is up. His darkness wrapped tightly around him as he moved through the crowd.

Azriel winnows back to the pleasure house after what feels like a good long while. Making sure everyone was safe and sound was harder than he had imagined. Rhys is not by the backside. But his shadows quickly informed him of the path to the basement steps. Basement. A shiver ripples down his back, but he still steps forward until he can hear Rhy's voice loud and clear.

"We paid our taxes", a female voice rings out. Azriel can't see her yet, but from her tone, he's sure that she's smiling. "You and I both know it's not about the money", Rhys says calmly as Azriel slips through the shadows on the back wall.

"I'm glad to see you here finally, though", the lady purrs, her long gray hair twisted into a big braid, resting neatly against her chest. "I thought you were too ashamed". Azriel can feel a wave of tension rising in the room. "Myriam, don't push my buttons", Rhys warns her, but she only smirks. "Or what? You'll get me close?" Azriel is about to step into the room, but Rhys mentally tells him off. "Where's the girl?", he pushes, but Myriam continues as if she hadn't even heard him, "You do know that any other court will welcome me and my girls with open arms?".

Azriel lets his shadows swirl through the cracks in the room. Trying to scan through the rooms behind the lady's back. But he doesn't get far. Most of them are so deeply drenched in magic that Azriel doesn't recognize. The shadow singer frowns, watching his shadows struggle. Leaping away from the door as if whatever that was there hurt them.

Rhys lets out a deep sigh, "You're right," and Azriel's head jerks to his high lord instantly. What the hell was Rhys agreeing to all of a sudden? "I apologize, but you have to understand that I wasn't informed that we had such beauty in my city", Rhys steps closer to the table. Reaching for the bottle placed there. "I'm a jealous man; what can I say", he states, refilling Myriam's glass before taking a swing straight from the bottle himself. "Rhys, you know I'm willing to share. But it was you who dismissed me the first time", the woman says, and now Azriel's head is turning once again. First time? Dismissed her? What in the love of a mother was going on here?

"It's late now, but let's set a date for a meeting. I want to revisit this", Rhys says, smiling at Myriam, and she instantly returns the smirk. Hand reaching to play with the collar of Rhysand's shirt, "I knew that you would come to your senses", lifting her glass closer to her lips she settles on watched Rhys for a moment, "Just remember that I'm the one who has the wining card here".

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All acotar writing taglist: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan @bubybubsters

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagien #shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you

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danikamariewrites · 2 years ago

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Cassian x adhd!reader

A/n: I wanted to see where my thoughts on Cass with this concept would take me plus I realized I haven’t written anything for him yet oops. I also kinda got carried away with this one. Should I finish the trio and do one for Rhys (and possibly one for Eris👀)? My requests are still open!

Warnings: some angst and mentions of mental health struggles

Cassian is really good at reading people and telling when there’s something wrong (like in ACOMAF when he was first training Feyre he just let her punch it out and she finally talked)

You would mask it for the first few months of your relationship but he picked up on your ADHD when you first met

He knew you would come to him when you were ready to talk about it

And when you did talk to him about your ADHD he was so understanding. Cass wants to learn everything about you, including how your brain works

If he had questions you couldn’t answer he’d do his own research in the library or ask Madja a million questions about how to help you

Cassian could always tell when you zoned out or when you were in your own little world. When trying to get your attention he was always gentle about it

Whenever you were sitting still for too long doing work and needed a break he will always stop what he’s doing to be with you, if you want him to be. He would go on walks with you, let you pace around and talk at him, mini dance parties, or even take you to spar for a bit.

There were times when you thought your ADHD had its perks because sweet, wholesome moments just between you and Cassian would come from it

For example after he was coming home from Windhaven you guys were going to go away for the weekend to the cabin in the mountains and you had to find your duffel bag

You swore it was in the walk-in closet you and Cass shared so you started digging through the piles and shelves looking for the bag

But of course you get sidetracked, you found Cassians favorite hoodie that had been missing (it wasn’t actually missing you wore it while he was gone once and then hid it you just forgot where it was)

You put the hoodie on and then other piles of forgotten stuff grabs your attention and you start digging through everything in the closet making a mess

There’s a skirt Feyre gave you with the tag still on that you put on over your leggings, you put things in piles, and then you found a box of jewelry Cassian never wears. One thing in it is a bracelet with a broken clasp so you sit down on the floor between the piles of stuff and attempt to fix it

You didn’t hear the front door open or Cassian calling your name. When you finally noticed him he was standing in the doorway laughing, “Hey baby, find your bag?” Your cheeks got hot as he made his way into the closet sitting with you

“Find anything interesting?” “Yeah a few things. That pile over there is pretty cool.” He finds your collection of headbands and puts one on

After an hour you fixed the clasp and your both wearing random shit you found. You look at each other and laugh at how ridiculous you look. Sighing your shoulders slump, “I still need to find my bag and pack. Sorry Cass I dragged you into my crazy distraction.” Cassian looks at you with a questioning smile, “you don’t need to be sorry baby. Plus I found your bag,” he pulls the duffel from behind him, “like 20 minutes after I got here. I just thought we were having fun.”

You jump into his lap wrapping your arms around his neck tightly “I love you Cass.” He kisses your forehead and then all the way down to your nose, “I love you too baby.” Then plants a kiss on your mouth

But there are also the bad/frustrating moments

One time you were cleaning up around the house and misplaced an important document Cassian needed to give to Rhys but you couldn’t remember where it was or if you put in his office

You were trying to retrace your steps and could tell Cassian was getting frustrated. You were apologizing profusely, you didn’t realize the document was part of the stuff you were organizing

He snaps at you. You knew in the back of your mind he was mad about the paper and not at you. But you had a hard time separating that especially when regulating your emotions at the same time

Your eyes started to water and your bottom lip trembled. As soon as he saw your face and the tears fall he instantly regretted yelling.

He rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug and cradling your head to his chest swaying you back and forth slowly. “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to snap, I’m not mad at you I swear.” You stand like that for a few moments, “I know Cass I just feel like it’s my fault and I can never remember things I’m sorry.”

Cassian pulls back to look at you, “you have nothing to be sorry for. It happens sometimes, we all misplace things. It’ll be fine I promise.”

When you’re fidgeting or having a hard time sitting still he’d hold your hand. Sometimes you would just hold his hand or squeeze and you’d be fine, the weight of his large hand comforting you

Other times you would play with his fingers or trace shapes on his palm. Sometimes you’d even tap at the bright red siphon on the back of his hand, you’d stare at it getting lost in its glow and how beautiful it is

When you get over stimulated at home he takes away whatever is bothering you and rubs up and down your arms, “you ok baby? What can I do to help?” You just lean your forehead against his chest and stay silent, trying to breathe in and out

Once your better you cuddle up to Cassian in bed

If you guys are out with the IC he would take you outside for fresh air and wrap a wing around you to show that you’re safe

If you seem like you’re going to have an anxiety attack he lets you squeeze his hands and he talks you through it, “it’s going to be ok, just take deep breaths baby, in and out.” He breathes with you

When you are ok enough he takes you in his arms to fly you home. He does a lap over the city first so you can enjoy the view and get lost in its beauty

tags: @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane

#acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fic #cassian acosf #cassian imagine #cassian x you #cassian x reader #cassian acotar x reader #cassian headcanons

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lovemyromance · 1 year ago

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I feel like something Gwynriel’s don’t understand that a lot of long time (and some recent) SJM fans understand is fandom spaces and coexisting, they also lack being able to understand something I, as an avid consumer of various contents and media with traumatized characters (because that’s a commonly used plot device for backstories or to drive the plot forward) is that a lot of content creators like authors make the trauma a character experienced vague unless their recovery is meant to be the plot like with Nesta- so characters like Lucien, Rhys and Gwyn all have a trauma and it’s left vague on how they recovered so you the consumer can see your experience and your recovery in them otherwise it leaves the content creator open to criticism from a sect of their audience who experienced that sensitive topic- which they wouldn’t do if they themselves haven’t experienced it. Now, Gwynriels completely disregarding Gwyn’s trauma is outrightly wrong, their ideas of her and Az take a trauma survivor and forces her into intense sexual situations, sometimes extremely intense sexual situations with someone she doesn’t have a relationship or chemistry with. They also don’t understand Elriel’s analyzing Gwyn as a lightsinger and/or her friendship with Nesta and Emerie isn’t hate, it’s analyzing the text of a story- personally I can’t stand Gwyn and hope the three of them get lives outside of each other like they deserve but Gwynriel’s can’t fathom the phrase “two things can exists at the same time” Gwyn can be a traumatic SA survivor and an annoying person (to people in the fandom)- i’ve never seen an Elriel criticize or hate Gwyn because of her trauma, just that they don’t like personality or her relationship with Nesta and Emerie or that she seems self serving, Gwynriel’s need to understand their ~little nymph priestess who can do no wrong with her pliant bones and singing~ can be both a trauma survivor and an annoying person/shitty friend. They don’t cancel each other out and personally i’m worried this will get worse if Gwyn is a lightsinger in the next book because of the lack of understanding that Gwyn can be multifaceted, like previously stated- a trauma survivor and an annoying self centered person (in my opinion) I also loved the theory that Elriel is similar to Orpheus and Eurydice which supports Gwyn being a lgbtisnger because Eurydice was lured into the woods by a Nymph (Elain hasn’t met Gwyn and seems to be aware of Gwyn’s powers- the headache powder and earplugs) where Eurydice was bitten by a snake and taken to the Underworld and brought back by Orpheus, but Cauldron forbid Gwynriel’s get reading comprehension and understand that an Orpheus and Eurydice retelling would be so fucking cute, like Feysand and Tamlin being a retelling of Hades and Persephone. (Sorry this was long, a lot of Elriel blogs I follow don’t have asks on, for a good reason, but i’ve been sitting on this for a while <3)

I also really don't understand the Gwyn fascination. Here's why, in 3 parts:

1. Gwyn is very much a background, minor character. Could she one day become a main character? Sure. But right now, I would not consider her a main character. I mean, I barely even consider Amren or Mor main characters anymore, and they're part of the IC.

2. SJM isn't going to write an entire book about a minor character's "healing journey" after SA trauma. She just doesn't do that.

3.SJM is an entertaining writer, but she's not very complex in her ideas and character building. All her characters have trauma, but it's often just vague and more of a check the box thing. Like maybe she just has a character outline template like:

Character Name:

Gender:

Goal:

Trauma/Harrowing backstory: ✅

Genuinely, she uses trauma like people use sad backstories on americas got talent or something to get the golden buzzer 😭😭

I think honestly her most complex character was Nesta, and she did a great job with showing her trauma (which wasn't just vague SA but a combination of things, which made it more realistic). Even if I wasn't a fan of how Nesta's story ended with her giving up her powers, I understood why SJM wrote it that way.

But Nesta was a main character. It made sense her trauma was explored more and her healing journey was a focus.

Gwyn is literally not a main character. She is Nesta's friend. Like Emerie is also Nesta's friend. Emerie arguably also has a lot of trauma, but I don't have high hopes that SJM will explore that Illyrian backwards society either. It's all just a means to an end to her. She's not out here writing a healing journey for every faerie in Prythian.

People are always quick to vilify Elriels for saying Gwyn isn't a main character, and acting like we're blaming it on her trauma. Or acting like we think Gwyn is a threat to Elriel 🤡 They're out here claiming to everyone that "Gwyn is going to get a story! Her story isn't over yet!"

I'm sure we'll see her in some capacity in the remaining series, but I doubt she's going to get an entire book focusing on her "healing" (whatever the fuck that means). SJM isn't going to write an entire book about a minor character's healing from SA. Like I'm sorry, but literally every other character in her books has some sort of SA/abuse in general type trauma.

People have literally just latched onto Gwyn because she's pretty, determined, nice, and juuuuuust vague enough that they can use her as a self insert.

She's not a main character right now. And we can sit here and argue that "Oh she might be soon!" but then we could do that for everything.

I could say Koschei is Azriel's mate and people can argue saying that's ridiculous and I can just counter with "Oh maybe not right now but there's definitely some foreshadowing that they might be mates someday."

I'm not wasting time having discussions about what is not in the books currently.

#elriel

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alicentsultana · 1 year ago

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Hi! Sorry if im bothering you again but i wanted to ask you two questions ,if you dont mind

1)What are your thoughts on Alys Rivers?

2)Since you see have watched the Tudors ,what are your overall thoughts about the show?

Anyway ,have a good day!

Hi! Sorry for taking so long!

1. Alys Rivers was made to contradict Aemond and his hate for bastards. I haven't read the books and I do not intend to, I do not know what the book says about her, so I follow what people have said about her only, she is a bastard, she's a witch, and I kind of feel like she will have this change of sides. I'm actually excited to see how her relationship with Aemond will progress, but I also want to know her personality, like she doesn't strike me as a badass witch (but I can be wrong), only this beautiful seer that maybe is kind enough, I mean, why Aemond would order to kill a bunch of people and let her alive? What did she said? How did she act? Aemond is very polite and is very well educated, what does this woman have/did that was different? So I don't believe she have a """""""great (strong, femme fatale) personality""""" otherwise she would clash with him. But this completely based on the voices in my head I feel like we will have a very different Alys Rivers. To support my claim, there is also the fact that he stated that he wouldn't mind marrying Helaena, while Aegon was complaining about it, so Alys could kind of fit in this type, which I don't look forward to, but again, only my speculations.

2. The tudors have a special place in my heart no matter how badly it represented the people of that time. I was in a very great six wives obsession at the time, so along with the show I watched lots of documentaries and read a lot of historical takes and opinions about that time period, so I never let the show and critical part mix. However, I believe they did a good job in representing some key events of the time, like Henry's despair over what he did to Anne, his feelings about Mary and Elizabeth, the change in character he had when he suffered the accident, that also happened in real life, how he must have felt when Jane died and like he got rid of three wives some way and it must have gotten to him.

Jonathan Rhys Meyers is hot, Henry VIII was described as hot when he was younger because he was like athletic, redheaded viking and taller than most men so ambassadors were like 👁👄👁 about him, and he was perfect catholic Prince, he was Aragon and Castella son-in-law, and they captured this glorious beginning and his ups and downs till the end of his life.

Let's not talk about the clothes, even though I love it, I wish it was more accurate.

I really like also how they portrayed his love story with Anne, because we have his surviving letters to her and he would do teenager things like draw their first name initial letters together with arabesques and hearts, he redecorated his palace to have tiles and figures of this drawings, hearts and symbols to represent both of them, he move heaven and earth for her, and it was shown in the show. Though real life Anne was apparently more reluctant at the beginning, and more daring and witty when he couldn't get rid of Catherine. They had a deep love story and after that he wasn't as passionate and not as engaged in his relationship as he was with her, or not as devoted as he was about Jane who gave him his heir.

So overall is a good show, and I watched many times to kill time when I could. If you haven't watched, I believe it's worth it give it a try!

#ask #alys rivers #the tudors #pro team green

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captainderyn · 2 years ago

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Runs at your inbox at full speed. 6, 11, 15, 25; otp asks for Ros + Five!!!!

Ask and ye shall recieve Roslynd/Five goodness!

EDIT: I put this is my drafts for safe keeping in JUNE and forgot it was here I am so sorry

6. Do they have pet names for each other? Do they like them?

Not so sure that these quite fall under pet names, but Five's one to call Roslynd, "My love/dear/darling" very very frequently in his smooth Kaasi accent that would make anyone melt like butter. It also isn't a pet name but he's one of the only people to call Roslynd by her full name instead of Ros, which in its own way carries a bit of intimacy.

For Roslynd, she knows that Five has gone by his cipher designation for so long that calling him Val (very rarely Valetyn) in of itself is like calling him by a more intimate name. I think the most pet-namey she gets with him is "my love/love" consistently. But she's also absolutely come up with the most ridiculous nonsense known to man that makes Five stop in his tracks and go "WHAT did you just call me??"

11. What good do they bring out in each other?

OOF so much. They both bring out so much good in each other. Roslynd grounds Five a lot, especially when they first reconnect and he's still actively in the field. She reminds him of his humanity, that he's not just a weapon. She also brings out a sense of humor in him, albeit dry. Five is a very serious person who often takes things very literally and Ros helps him loosen up a bit, get a bit more mischief in him.

In their Academy days, Roslynd brings Five out of his shell. He was very content to work-aholic his way through training and exist on his own, but Roslynd (aside from challenging him academically in their little rivalry) dragged him out away from studies and that's how he met his core group of friends, such as Rhys.

Conversely, Five brings out a mellower side of Roslynd. She's very intense in a very high energy way, and Five's quieter form of intensity tends to balance her out. They're both lovely counter balances to each other. Roslynd also finds that Five brings out a softer side of her, one who isn't as sharp and down-to-business.

15. What habits or characteristics have they picked up from each other?

Roslynd has picked up getting way too attached to the agents from Five.

Roslynd picked up making her office less clinical and more home-y from Five. She didn't realize she could bring in softer lamps that don't give her headaches until she went into his for the first time and went "WAIT you changed the lighting??" xD

Ros has definitely found herself accidentally falling into some of Five's mannerisms in conversation, such as his nonverbal acknowledgements or irritated "hmphs" (you know when you're around someone long enough you start picking up their vocabulary as your own?)

Five has definitely picked up on things from Ros, he's just refusing to offer them up in my brain.

25. Who said “I love you” first?

This might be unexpected, but Five :3

In their Academy days when they had their 'right person wrong time' thing going, Roslynd voiced how much she cared for Five and it was painfully obvious that he's in denial head over heels for her but was never voiced as "I love you".

By the time they begin working together again, Roslynd is just so relieved to have Five back in her life while still recognizing there's several years of trauma now on the shoulders of the man she loved/loves and she doesn't know if he still feels the same. So she is generally content to just things take their course and go where they may. It's Five who finally takes that step and admits his love for her and they go from there!

#captainderyn answers #so mad I forgot this was in my drafts lol #oc: Five #oc: Roslynd #otp: Hold My Tired Heart

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lidiasloca · 9 months ago

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a crush on azriel

azriel x reader

PART TWO

You find yourself in what could be a dream of yours – or a nightmare; seated next to Azriel on a couch. You try to excuse the silence with the knowledge that the male is not very fond of talking.

Still, you try to will your lips to move, no matter how much they tremble. “How are you?”

He directs his eyes to you, and though you know it’s not his intention, the intensity in them pins you in place - leaves you breathless. How could someone have such control over you?

When you come back to the present, you can find a glint of playfulness in his eyes. “How am I?” he asks.

Was it the wrong question to ask? Gods - you should just keep quiet until the rest of the Inner Circle appears. You had given up on waiting for Nyx; you know he is delaying himself. Feyre and Rhys had already greeted you and were by the fireplace, and the rest were late.

The thing is - when you are nervous, you can’t keep quiet for too long. Nyx for sure knew that when he sent you off with Azriel.

“Yes?” you reply, unsure.

To your surprise, it makes him chuckle - it is light and soft, but you cannot feel anything less than overjoyed at the sound of it. A sound you’ve caused.

“Well, I am fine. How are you, Y/N?”

Did he know the effect it had on you when he said your name so easily - like every vowel was meant to be spoken out of his mouth? If he knew, he was very good at playing with you.

“I’m fine. Well - a bit nervous, but fine.”

“Nervous?” he asks, surprised, grabbing your full attention. “What for?”

You. No - think of something else, Y/N. “It’s my first time here. New people, new place… I get nervous easily.”

“Mmmmm…” and then he’s silent.

And you decide to roll with it. He’s not a talkative guy, so you aren’t either tonight. Yes, it’s decided.

But then: “I also get nervous. Sometimes.”

You force your jaw not to drop at his simple confession. Alright, you have to say something. Come on, say something!

“I never would have guessed.”

He smiles at you, analyzing your face and what probably is a blush on your cheeks. “Why’s that?”

“I just... you don’t look… shy, I guess.”

“Mmmmm. How do I look?”

Had you sipped from your cup, you would have spat the wine onto him. “How do you look?” you repeat, surprised. Was it your delusional heart, or was he flirting? You truly need your friend Nyx to talk some sense into you.

“Yes. I’m curious how you see me.”

He is really honest about this, and you just have to laugh.

“Don’t laugh,” he smiles. “I’m serious. Well, not anymore if you are going to take this as a joke.”

“No, no,” you mumble in between laughs. “I’m taking this seriously. I am.”

“No, you are not. And so I’m going to leave you to your fun as I serve myself another cup,” he says as he sits upright.

“No,” you quickly say. “Don’t go.” Too desperate - you have to fix it. “I will tell you how I see you.”

Now he’s interested. He sits back again, and it makes you think if he was just pretending to leave. It makes you wonder if he knows about the control he has over you.

You suddenly have an idea. “Well, no - let me tell you later. I am going to find Nyx, alright? You go for that wine.”

Checkmate.

His eyes swim with mischief and curiosity. Since he seems to have nothing to say, you give him a tight nod goodbye as you get up and go search for your friend.

“Nyx?” you ask tremulously once you reach the hallway. No matter how brave you had acted, you were a nervous little thing right now.

“Here,” he calls from his room. You start walking to it when suddenly a warm hand takes you by the arm. You swallow a shout, only relaxing when you turn to Azriel.

“Sorry. Didn’t want to frighten you.” You watch between his face and his hand, confusion clear on your face. He finally lets go.

“What is it?” you ask, not sure of what else to say.

“Nothing. Nothing.” He tries to walk away, but you stop him.

“Azriel, what?”

“I just had an idea.” Your brows furrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me,” you whisper, as if it were a secret conversation - it felt like one.

“Well - since you were nervous - and I am as well - maybe we could go somewhere else.”

You have to be dreaming. You have to.

“What - what are you nervous for?”

He shakes his head with a shy smile on. “That - no. That’s not what matters.” You don’t argue with him, content with your own assumptions as to why he is nervous at a family dinner. “Well…” he starts timidly. “What do you think?”

“I think yes,” you reply before you can think of a smart answer.

His smile is nothing short of genuine joy. “Take my hand.”

A dream.

next part

-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas

azriel masterlist

@username199945 @going-through-shit

#azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #az imagine #azriel imagine #azriel fluff #azriel spymaster

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malkaleh · 1 year ago

Text

I am so glad some of them are being sensible (some of them in particular) and also that the nonsense is getting smacked down. THE SHIP NAMES (I was never into the ship names in all honesty - though I’m not in Tolkien fandom I’m also a Tolkien nerd and I made so many Faramir/Eowyn collages. And got all the Arthur/Gwen/Lancelot posters because OBVIOUSLY ;)).

(I really like Rhi and Amina right now).

Oh my gosh yes - it was extraordinary - they said so much even without words (some day I will have to scream about the dance scenes as well) and just with their bodies/gestures like it’s magic to me. (Especially because I’ve seen the bloopers and like HOW do they manage to switch)

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: @everyone an announcement before we watch the next episode ‘My King’

-I can and will ban people for abuse apology. That is not up for debate. It was abuse then and it is abuse now and we are not justifying it.

-For me personally - I cannot ship Cromwich anymore. I know though that there’s been a lovely community built up here outside of that so I don’t want to just shut the server down - please go to #suggestions to discuss options for pivoting/if people want to set up another server that doesn’t have me hosting.

-Me and Rhi thank the vast majority of you who have been decent human being about this. I’m not going to address specifics of the 0.01 percent who haven’t but again, I’m going to direct you to the server rules.

TransCrozier: I just want to echo Amina here - especially that we haven’t banned people lightly but they were very much making the server unsafe, especially because there are survivors here.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: Okay let’s watch.

TransCrozier: First of all oh my fuck the camera work on this - they follow Anne and then !!!!!!

HannaeB: I just, the choice to not hear exactly what Anne says, just see Henry straighten and turn and…FUCK HIS FACE. JOHNNY YOU ARE TERRIFYING HOW.

TransCrozier: I KNOW. FUCK. FUCK. How does he manage to channel the spirit of a dead 16th century king i have no idea but i am so scared.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: I am taking this in points and i make no apologies for how long this is

THE SITTING SO STILL. THE WAY HIS ENTIRE FACE AND BODY JUST SOFTENS. JOHNNY RHYS MEYERS I AM IN YOUR WALLS.

“My dearest love. My dearest purest love. Never think that any shame or taint belongs to you. It belongs to him”

I AM GOING TO GO FERAL. FRIENDSHIP ENDED FOREVER WITH NORWICH SCUM QUEEN ANNE AND KING HENRY ARE MY BFF’S NOW.

James making the choice to slowly reach out to hold Henry’s hand makes me want to bite things.

“I never doubted you, never. Only my own worth Your Majesty…Harry”

FUCK THE HINT OF TEARS. THE TEARS.

And then then he leans up and kisses Henry !!!!!!!!!

And JRM just does the ‘I am letting you make all the decisions, make all the moves but The Love In That Mans Eyes.

“You are worthy of all that I can give you and more. My husband. My Consort. My King.”

TransCrozier: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. A CROWN. A CROWN. A RING.

“I cannot crown you before the world, cannot marry you in the sight of man but we three can in the sight of God. And I would have you take your rightful place.”

PoppyMcGee: I just want to say, unequivocally that I am sorry to the people I hurt by lashing out. I was wrong - especially wrong about Anne and Henry and also that the entire Cromwich Relationship wasn’t child sexual abuse - it is. I grew up Restorationist (context but not an excuse) and I’m still unpacking so much of the mess I’ve internalised. I have more work to do.

Thank you Rhi and Amina for being so kind and patient. I’ll be taking some time away to really do some more work.

TransCrozier: Julianna I just want to say thank you for apologising sincerely. Genuinely it’s so hard to look at something and say ‘I was wrong and I’m sorry’ especially if you’ve been raised in a Restorationist Home (also please bear in mind everyone that Julianna is eighteen and barely out of that environment - as the person who she lashed out at the most I’d ask you to give her grace) and owning it. You are a good person Jules - you made a mistake but it won’t define you.

EggsBatta: I just want to second this but Essie? [redacted redacted because it’s probably not publishable] I hope one day you can remove your head from your arse and maybe realise that you do not actually need to keep stanning a genuine pedophile because you find a ship hot. Also the misogyny is gross. This is what she got binned for fyi:

Armada: the amount of hate John is getting on a server that’s supposed to defend and love him is disgusting and makes me so sad - he loved Thomas! He gave him an education and clothing and jewels and called him after the great love of a Roman Emperors life and all of you are stanning some stupid insipid het ship disguised as ‘queer’ (it isn’t gay and it isn’t some great romance - henry just wanted anne as a breeding cow, i think that’s pretty clear with the amount she got knocked up and thomas threw away the best thing he ever had and i hate that no one called him on it - that he just ran away after everything john had done for him and got with someone else straight away.

it was a different time. I don’t care what anyone says it was true love and i am so sad that john did not have it returned enough.

i guess thomas didn’t think he was worth an actual partner.

TransCrozier: Essie respectfully, genuinely no.

@nocompromise-noregrets

Some More Fictional Universe Discord Content

@nocompromise-noregrets

Ellie - just a warning that you will probably want to strangle Armada (i had to take five minutes to scream) but she gets smacked down and also I CANNOT EVEN.

Armada: no really WHAT IS THE KARLIENE REYNOLDS SONG??

i had a name before him/i took it back/but his brand upon me/will never wash away/in the light of the sun and stars/i thought i might be holy moonlight/instead of tainted ground/an eagle collar about my neck.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: I DON’T KNOW BUT I HATE IT [one fear dot gif] because Thomas has been associated with the moon so much (Henry’s poetry, Anne’s - the motifs in their possessions) and Norwich’s personal coat of arms is an eagle owl.

TransCrozier: SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK. FUCK. I am going to go and lay in the DIRT. AND EAT IT. Waiting is unbearable.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: Okay the watch party is over in #show-watch - it will contain spoilers, live reactions and memes. And PANICK.

PoppyMcGee: THE OPENING. THE OPENING. SHIT FUCK FUCK. Let me break this down.

the entire scene with john and thomas is horrific just horrific. the threat the menace that bruise he left.

and then thomas ripping off all the sheets and covers on his bed and that part with trying to scrub his skin i just…god that’s awful. James Frain you owe me for emotional damages.

how he knew to cover up the self harm scars and the bruises like WHAT DOES THIS MEAN (we know about his father but the scars are…that’s something else).

Armada: it must have been a really bad breakup like that is some bad blood (sorry for the taylor swift) between them to send thomas into that spiral.

TransCrozier: respectfully this is not ‘a bad breakup’ reaction and that is not someone reacting to a bad breakup related guilt. that is an abuser. Norwich is an abuser/was abusive. The way he so clearly used ‘you ruined any trace of me Antonius - when did you gain the notion that you could so ruin that which I own’ that is not romantic.

Armada: Like, I love you Rhi but no - it’s maybe not the healthiest but they were both younger then - Thomas was still early twenties and you don’t make the best decisions then and he’d come off an abusive childhood in the 16th century, I think what we are seeing is a breakdown about how he regrets how it ended/how he ended it specifically (also side note James is so pretty when he cries!)

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock:……OH SHIT ANNE. ANNE. ANNE.

PoppyMcGee: look i am not an Annewell shipper but the way she absolutely takes care of him - gives him the choice every step of the way! Tells him what she’s doing!

TransCrozier: I am a Triad OTPer as we all know (I just find Cromwich interesting as a multishipper) by now etc and just, THE LOVE. THE LOVE. THE WAY ANNE made sure to ask Thomas what coverings he didn’t want. Also I am soft for bathing scenes.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: AGREED RHI. AGREED SO HARD.

Armada: UGH ANNE DO WE HAVE TO SEE HER SO MUCH [Edit: I’m sorry I know the server doesn’t allow character hate but i just don’t like her or Cromannery. Or it’s not that i don’t like her but i don’t like her with Thomas].

Poppy McGee:….yeah i agree with you Essie - I want Anne to be the cool lesbian of my heart that she should be but i do love her taking care of thomas.

Armada: that bit was sweet but yeah, what poppy said. She doesn’t need men and she’s much worse for them! But what’s going on now.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock:

“I was ten years old, my mother not long dead and my father was in need of funds and drink. Lord Norwich, as he was then offered him silver under a disguise so my father would not extort more funds out of him. I came into his household and thought myself landed somewhere better. He branded and bedded me for the first time that same day - I cut it out of me the day I took my chance and fled - five years almost to the day after.”

……I am going to be sick. I am going to be sick.

TransCrozier:

“I am but a tainted thing - he has been on and in every part of me - I could not speak of the shame, though I should have done - I should have never let you, let either of you think I was worthy of you, Your Majesty. I am so sorry.”

THOMAS BLAMES HIMSELF. HE STILL BLAMES HIMSELF I AM GOING TO RESURRECT NORWICH AND KILL HIM AGAIN MYSELF AND THEN REPEAT IT AGAIN.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: ANNE YOUR RESPONSE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU. NATALIE DORMER YOU GORGEOUS GORGEOUS HUMAN BEING.

TransCrozier: AMINA YOU ARE SO CORRECT. Queen Anne you perfect glorious woman I am once again AT YOUR FEET.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: hi @everyone i checked the history from several reputable sources (see here, here and here) and this is real. the show did not make it up - it’s just a recent discovery. Which i did not know about :(.

TransCrozier: neither did I i went in because RUPERT and then kind of fell into adoration - like obviously we all know triad is endgame because duh, history but i knew nothing else.

PoppyMcGee: I didn’t want to believe it :(. But I checked and it’s true :(. It’s fucking true. Norwich did that and he has no remorse.

RestorationistKingsLeftButtock: also fyi to several people who I’ve had to talk to about this - no ten was very much considered a child in the 16th century. Even fifteen was not ‘fully adult’ as such. This is rape and child sexual abuse and if you spout any more denial about that I will ban you.

TransCrozier: AMINA I AM KISSING YOU ON THE MOUTH. Also the fact that Anne volunteers to tell Henry, reassures Thomas that he won’t be angry just destroyed me all over again. CANNOT WAIT FOR THE POST SHOW CONTENT TO DESTROY ME AGAIN. ALSO HENRY’S REACTION.

Armada: …okay whatever. Sorry for having opinions i guess. can i even just say that even if it is abusive the triad is equally abusive.

#this co-writing back and forth is one of my joys #it’s so cool doing with a friend and creating and :DDDDD #(i love multimedia/fictional universe fandom)#fic #ot3: political power trio #lil and her ridiculous aus #tudors ot3 verse reference

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gothicbabydollz · 3 years ago

Text

~~~

Pairings: Lucien x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, pet names (baby, lovey, sweet girl), oral (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation, possession kink, the L word

Summary/Request: based off this ask

Word Count: around 3.3k

a/n: finally writing for my baby

~~~

It's Solstice. Meaning everyone comes together at Feyre and Rhys's river house to exchange gifts, drink and brush aside any worries till the next day. Depending on the hangover, of course.

You're already nursing your second bottle of wine, shared between you and the bustling blonde, Mor, by your side. Getting drunk seems a better option than spending the night watching your mate ogle over and follow the middle Archeron sister around like a lost puppy. Your mate. What a fucking joke. Azriel barely spares you a second glance whenever Elain shows him a speck of attention. Nor does she care for her own mate. Lucien. Your close friend of years. And to your disappointment, still hasn't arrived yet.

Growing up, you were told the stories of how rare and special it was to have the luck of finding your mate. Who's supposed to understand you, body and soul. Oh, how your dreams shattered. Azriel is kind, deep, handsome. He tried, at least. To get to know you. But Elain Archeron has him wrapped around her finger. You can't find it in you to be jealous anymore, she's lovely...misunderstood. Sometimes you think fate was wrong and those two should have been mated. But no. Azriel is your mate and Elain is Lucien's.

Who, has finally decided to show up. Lucien is in the doorway, dressed in finery, his hair ruffled from the wind. You're the first to dart over to him, slinking past your friends until you see his chest. You almost stumble into him when your arms go to wrap around his waist, realising just how tipsy you actually are. You giggle into Lucien's chest as he hugs you back, just as tight. Before you're craning your neck back to see his face. "I'm sorry, I'm late, lovey," Lucien says softly, stroking the small of your back.

You can't help but smile at him, "You're here now." Lucien grins right back, the one he only ever lets you see, his eye darts across your face as if he's memorising your every feature. He dips his chin and repeats, "I'm here now." That unspoken attraction between between you and Lucien sparks the moment his eyes linger on your lips. Striking the memory of the brief moment you two had shared months ago, when Lucien had snapped and crashed his lips to yours. It was over too soon. And never spoken about again.

You have to force yourself to pull out of Lucien's embrace, his natural warmth leaving you and letting a shiver run over you. You squeeze his arm, "Go say hi to everyone, I'll get you a drink."

When you turn away, you can feel eyes on you. You meet Azriel's gaze as you wander over to the large table, great smelling foods and wines scattered perfectly across it. Azriel's eyes don't break away when you begin pouring two glasses, there's a frown tugging on his lips. You almost snort, he's one to talk. Sighing, you throw him a smile before venturing back into the small crowd of bodies to hand your friend his wine.

~~~

You can't really recall how you end up in Lucien's lap. You had felt an arm around your waist and suddenly you were falling. And landing in Lucien's familiar embrace. A friendly gesture to everyone who didn't look to closely, who didn't notice the way he nuzzles his nose against you jaw whenever he laughs, deep and carefree. Lucien's arm drapes around you, his thumb stroking the bare skin of your thigh from where your dress has ridden up. No one notices you both exchanging desire filled gazing, your friends all paying attention to a conversation you had long stopped listening to.

You're keenly aware of Lucien's touch. That keeps inching higher. Your breath comes out shaky and your whole body feels hot. Never would you have expected Lucien to be so bold, stealing soft kisses against the side of your neck. And each time, you squirm which earns a grin from him, you return each one when Lucien growls softly, silently warning you to be still.

You don't know if it was because you hadn't seen him for so long or if the built up tension between you both had simply reached its limit. But you need him. Being this close to Lucien without being able to show your true feelings was becoming unbearable. You want to be his. Glancing over at Rhys and Feyre, gazing and grinning at each other as if no one else in the world existed, you let your mind wander. What if fate did make a mistake? Maybe Azriel and Elain were meant for each other. And maybe, just maybe, you were meant to be Lucien's mate. More than a small part of you hopes you're right.

Draining the remains of your wine, you ease yourself off Lucien's lap, silencing his complaints with a look and a sly smile. Lucien realises. His head cocks to the side, eyebrow raising. Are you sure? You dip your chin, flashing another smile before you're making way for the stairs. Everyone is too busy laughing at whatever joke Cassian just made, allowing you to slip by easily. If they noticed, they probably thought nothing of it.

Your heart is thumping wildly by the time you make it to your room, taking a risk like this shouldn't feel so exhilarating. You hope Lucien doesn't take too long. Having riled you up with subtle touches, your thighs are rubbing together to give you some relief.

You perk up when your door opens and the red-headed male slips inside. Lucien's eyes rake over you at where you're sat atop your bed, skin hot and flushed with need. His eye whirs faintly, searching for any sign of second guessing. You go to him, slowly padding across floor.

Lucien's hands cup either side of your face once close enough, he tilts your head up to look at him. Your name is a whisper on his lips. That you so desperately want crushed against your own. Leaning into his palm, you wrap your fingers around his wrists. "What about?"

He shakes his head, "It's you. It's always been you." You couldn't contain your smile, even if you tried. And then Lucien's dipping down, lips hovering over yours before he kisses you. Your lips mould and move against Lucien's perfectly, his lips are warm, soft. You moan into the kiss, his tongue swiping the seam of your lips for you to part them.

Lucien's hands leave your face to find the backs of your thighs. He lifts you into his arms, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist, a small gasp passing into his mouth. The kiss becomes messy with desperation, groping at and moaning into each other. Lucien nips at your bottom lip, "I need you. Right fucking now," He sighs.

You tug at his long hair, a smirk taking over your mouth. "Then have me. Take me. Please." Lucien growls in the back of his throat, already walking you both towards your bed. You yelp when you're dropped onto the soft sheets, looking up at Lucien who's stripping off his shirt, slowly revealing his toned and tanned skin beneath.

Your hand slips between your legs, buried beneath the skirts of your dress. Your fingers nimbly find your throbbing bundle of nerves, rubbing yourself while you watch Lucien undress. He discards his pants and you moan out at the sight of his cock, long and hard. Lucien almost whines as he sees you playing with yourself, "Fuck, baby. Look at you."

He drops over you, leaning down to kiss you once again. You smile into it, still toying with yourself as you let out a breathy moan, "Hi." Lucien chuckles, sitting back on his knees, "Hi, lovey," His hands run up your sides to the collar of your dress. Taking you by surprise, Lucien rips open the front of your dress, too eager to see you for him to strip you slowly. He moans, seeing your bare skin, so pretty he wants to mark you up, leave you covered and claimed as his.

"Oh, my beautiful girl," He sighs, lips finding your neck. He leaves hot, wet kisses across your skin, basking in the sweet whines you let out in response. He trails down to your collar, biting softly. Lucien takes your sensitive nipple into his mouth and sucks, his hand comes up to squeeze and knead your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You arch into him, "Please!" You moan as Lucien worships you. Your fingers rub your clit faster, feeling your belly tightening.

Lucien pulls his mouth from you with a lewd pop and moves to settle between your spread legs. His eyes are trained on the way your fingers circle your clit, "When you're alone," Lucien runs his thumb along your wet, silky cunt, "Who do you think of? When you play with this pretty pussy?" His hot breath against you heightens the pleasure you're giving yourself.

"You," You writhe, widening the stance of your legs further, as if pleading him to do something, "You, Lucien. I-I imagine your tongue on my clit or your cock filling me up. I need it, Lucien. Please, you'll make me feel so much better. I need you to make me cum."

Your words have Lucien rutting against the bed, needing to relieve himself. "Trust me, lovey. I'll make you cum until you can't anymore." You shiver from the sincerity in his voice.

Lucien slides his fingers into your soaking cunt, clenching down instantly from the pleasurable intrusion. His thumb takes over circling your swollen bundle of nerves, working in time with the thrusting of his fingers. They reach places your never could, dragging and curling against your velvety walls.

You're propped on your elbows, watching him as he takes you apart. It doesn't take long for you to cry out, squeezing around Lucien's fingers as the tension in your stomach releases. "That's it. So pretty when you cum and gods you're squeezing me so tight." Lucien groans against your skin as he kissing along your inner thigh, nearing your sex.

He barely gives you a moment to come down before Lucien's mouth is hungrily latching on to your clit. "Shit," You gasp, reaching for a fistful of his hair. You buck up to his face, whimpering loudly at how good the males tongue feels flicking over your clit. His hand is moving again, pumping his now drenched fingers in and out of your pulsing hole once again. Lucien's tongue dips to lap up your sweet juices before he's sucking on your bundle of nerves, moaning against you and sending vibrations of pleasure shooting up your spine.

You're grinding up against Lucien's mouth and fingers, arching off the bed and moaning loudly. You just hope the laughter from downstairs drowns it out. You find Lucien's already staring up at your face when you gaze down, eyes locking. Holding his gaze, your jaw drops, breath coming out in short, high pitched pants as you climax again. Lucien groans into your cunt as you do, the sensation enough to have your thighs shaking. His tongue laps around his fingers, drinking down your release as if its his favourite wine.

"Lucien, fuck. Please, please, I need a break, fuck!" You're mewling, pulling harshly on his hair, attempting to wrench his mouth away from your overly sensitive clit as he continues his torture. Lucien only chuckles against you, splaying his free hand across your belly to keep you still. "Oh my gods, Lucien," You whimper, squeezing your thighs around his head. It's too much yet feels so good. Lucien hums, quirking his fingers to drag against a spot inside you that has your head spinning.

The word 'yes' is a chant on your lips. You're nearing another high. A layer of sweat coats your body, making your skin shine in the lamplight. Lucien knows it and works his fingers faster, harder. He murmurs around your clit, "That's my girl. Give it to me, baby." You do. You shatter for him, noises you don't even recognise falling from your lips, you're trembling uncontrollably on the bed.

Lucien finally lets up once you've ridden out your orgasm. His fingers ease out your clenching cunt and find home in his mouth where he lewdly sucks and licks his digits clean. His face is flushed, lips and chin wet with your arousal. His once neat hair is a mess, sticking up in places. He gives you a grin, crawling up your quivering body until his nose bumps against your own. "So," He sighs, kissing you, "Do I live up to your imagination?"

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, "I never doubted you for a second." Lucien's lips find yours again, his tongue softly swirls around your own, letting you taste yourself on him. He grinds his hips against you, his cock sliding over your sex, he coats himself in your slick and whispers, so lowly it makes you shiver. "I need you to give me a few more, lovey. Need you to cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah," You nod, slinging your thigh around his waist so you can dig your heel into his ass, "I wanna cum on your cock. And I want you to cum in me."

Lucien groans, dropping his head to yours as his hips push forward, his cock breaching your cunt. He fills you with a smooth, easy thrust, causing both you and him to moan out loud. Lucien fits so right, stretching you out so good. Part of you thinks this is all a dream, just another one of the many fantasies you've had about Lucien. His body moulds flawlessly with yours, there's no way this can be real.

"Hey," Lucien's palm is warm against your cheek, turning your face to look at him. "Still with me, sweet girl?" His thumb strokes your cheekbone, sending a smile across your lips. You nod, holding onto him tighter as you wind your hips. With a low mewl, you slide off his cock until only his throbbing tip is concealed by your tight walls. And then you're raising your hips, letting him sink back within you. You're ever so slowly, fucking yourself on his cock.

Lucien's entranced by you. How little whines escape your mouth as you slide your cunt up and down on his length. You're so tight, clenching around him whenever his cock drags against a sensitive place. You move fluidly, your cum and his own spit allowing his cock to sink inside you easily.

Lucien meets the next lift of your hips with a thrust, making you throw your head back on the bed. A loud sob tumbles from you. It's so fucking good but fuck, you're so sensitive yet all you want is his cock, his cock buried in you for hours on end. "Does that feel good, lovey?" Lucien groans huskily, rutting his hips languidly in time with yours, "Fuck, I know it does." His arm is wrapped around you, hugging your body to his. His cock is thrusting so deep, you can barley think of anything beyond Lucien and the pleasure he's giving you. "Gods, this pretty cunt feels like heaven, you feel like heaven, lovey. How did I get so lucky? Cause you're mine, right? Fuck, please, baby, say you're mine. Say it. Please, you're mine."

You take his face in your hands, making him look into your eyes. You can tell he too, is lost in the pleasure. Nothing else matters other than the two of you right now. "I'm yours," You promise through pathetic, broken cries. Tears brim your eyes, the amount of sensations you're feeling becoming overwhelming, "I'm all yours. Only yours."

You reach your peaks together. Moaning and grinning into each other's mouths as your pulsating cunt greedily swallows Lucien's release. His seed fills you up only to drip out of you, turning you and him into sticky, sweaty messes, tangled up in one another.

But Lucien's fingers soon find your chin, gripping, "Now, sweet girl. I told you I'd make you cum until you couldn't anymore," Lucien pauses to smirk at your responding whimper, "It seems you still have quite a few left in you and we can't have that, can we, lovey?" He uses the hold on your chin to shake your head for you, Lucien chuckles, "Good girl."

A startled squeal escapes you as Lucien completely flips your body, moving you to where he wants. On your knees, face pressing into the bed. His still hard cock rests against your sensitive pussy from behind, Lucien's running up and down your spine before settling on your hip.

You can't help your scream of pleasure as Lucien sheaths into you once again, fucking you fast and hard, his only focus on taking as many orgasms out of you as he can. It takes you by surprise compared to his previous love-making. A good surprise. Lucien is making you feel sensations you never have before. Gods, he was fucking made for you.

"Shh careful, baby," Lucien coos, hips snapping against you loudly, heavy balls smacking your clit with each thrust, "I know it feels good but this whole damn city is gonna hear you." You couldn't care, you want them to know. And from the faint sound of Lucien chuckling, you're sure he does too.

Someone, certainly heard you.

After some time, when you're delirious and drooling from climaxing, your bedroom door clicks opens. Your heart pounds in your chest but you're too fucked out to try and push yourself up. "Look who it is, lovey," Lucien slows to grind his hips against you, wrapping his arm under you to pull your back to his chest, "It's your mate," He whispers by your ear, making you whimper.

You look to your mate. Locking eyes with Azriel, you rest your head back against Lucien's chest. Azriel stands in the doorway, taking in the sight before him silently. He doesn't conceal the way his eyes rake over your naked form, a muscle in his jaw twitching. You feel Azriel tugging on the bond and turn away from him, nuzzling back into Lucien.

Lucien growls, tightening his hold on you, "You didn't want her shadowsinger, didn't appreciate this sweet girl. So, I took her. I'll take care of her." He emphasises with a harsh roll of his hips that has you moaning out his name. Azriel seethes, glaring at the male behind you, jealousy seeping off him.

His eyes soften when they land back on you, he whispers your name, almost like a plead. You scoff a laugh, shaking your head. Lucien hums, "It's too late now, she's mine. Aren't you, lovey?" You look up to Lucien with a smile, "All yours, baby." Lucien bends down to to press a kiss to lips.

Turning back to Azriel, you sigh, "Leave, Azriel. Go to her, and we can all be happy." He stares at you, searching for a feeling you don't have. He dips his chin and steps out of your room with once last glance over his shoulder.

With a soft whine, you ease yourself off Lucien to spin around and face him. He wraps his arms around your middle while yours sling around his neck. "I love you," You admit quietly, "Always have." Lucien dips down again to rest his forehead against yours, the both of you laughing at how much taller he is than you. "I love you too."

You hum, "Now, where were we?" Lucien grins, laying you down on the bed. You moan softly and thread your fingers through his hair when Lucien's lips attach to your jaw, sucking gently.

And you know you'll never get enough of him.

#lucien x reader #lucien acotar #lucien smut #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra smut #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra acotar #acotar x reader smut #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses smut #elucian #elriel #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel smut

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