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xmalfoyweasleyx · 3 days

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Azriel - NSFW alphabet

A/N: Welcome to the 5th part of my 1,3k followers celebration! In my country it’s father’s day, so I thought, why not post Az my favourite daddy ;) This is smut and 18+! nsfw gif!

Previous alphabets: Rhys, Cassian, Lucien, Helion

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's very gentle and soft during aftercare, he is so careful with you, trying not to touch your sore spots too much. He asks you how you are and what you need. <3

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You like his hands the most, the scars make him the Azriel you love and on top of that he's so skilled with them. He doesn't like his hands that much himself :( He also doesn't really have a favorite body part, but you make up for this by occasionally worshipping his whole body.

Azriel loves your breasts!!! He's a boob guy. For him, the size doesn't really matter, he just loves to grab them, play with your nipples, having them against his face when he fucks you,... Even out of the bedroom, Azriel constantly nuzzles his face in between your tits. They're just comfortable and warm.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Azriel tries to cum multiple times in a row without pulling out of you. After he cums in the first round, he waits a moment, but he stays buried inside your pussy so nothing can spill out. Then he fucks you again, coming in your pussy for the second time, making sure you take another load of his cum. He just wants to be sure you're full of him. This male wants to claim you so bad, and what better way is there to do it than to fill you up?

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you two were together he fantasized about you so much. He literally couldn't stop, never satisfied. He kept tugging on his cock every evening, thinking about how it would feel when your lips are wrapped around his length, being a good girl on your knees for him. Azriel wanted you so bad, that he avoided you. Because when he saw you he needed to retreat to his room, to fuck his hand for some release...

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Az is pretty experienced, but he's not that experienced when it comes to the intimate part. With you, it's different than his previous lovers, so he still has to adjust to this whole new situation. The making love part, is a new experience for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

When you are on the bed and he's standing, your hips in his hands while he pounds into you, pulling your hips against him like you're no more than some cock sleeve. He has a perfect view of your body and your tits bouncing in this position. He also strokes your belly and thighs when you're laying there, all sprawled out for him.

Fucking you while you're spooning. I have the perfect gif to show you for this:

He loves to lift your body up from to bed, to then fuck you while he's standing up, your legs wrapped around his hips. His hands are on your ass, to push you're hips against him, fucking you mercilessly while you're practically hanging off his body. You climb this man like a tree.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Az is very serious in general, so he's serious in bed too.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is well groomed, his pubes are really dark (like the rest of him lol).

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Yes, in romantic moments he's intimate and he isn't afraid to make love to you, but like I've said, this is something new for him. Most of the time he's pretty rough with you. But after a few rounds he gets so intimate. He's pretty tired too and Az can get very overwhelmed with the amount of love and passion he's feeling in that moment. When you have those intimate moments, this male licks and kisses you everywhere. Mostly on your neck, earlobe and nipples. He puts so much love and devotion into those kisses.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It was his dirty secret that before you, he did it a lot. Now, he loves to watch you when you touch yourself, he's still fully clothed but lets you masturbate in front of him, his shadows teasing you, sometimes slipping into your hole(s) for a moment. You always beg him to touch you instead, whining softly. When you desperately start tugging on his shirt, pleading and whining, asking him to finally take his clothes off, he gives in.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Shadowplay. They feel so silky and soft on your skin. He uses them on himself too.

He definitely has a daddy kink... "Who's your daddy? Say it." , "You're daddy's good little girl, aren't you? Always so good for me"

Choking

Hair pulling (but more like grabbing your hair and using it for leverage when he fucks you from behind or when you suck him off. He also goes crazy when you grab his hair)

Breeding!!! "Wanna fill you up, wanna put you full of my seed baby, yeah? Are you going to take it like a good girl?"

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Az loves to fuck you on missions, it's exciting and he loves the tension that goes with it. But it's also a great break from all the work stress he's having.

Most of all he prefers his bed, it's personal and you're special to him. Like I've said, this is new to him. I think before you, he wouldn't bring girls to his bedroom that much. So the intimacy of having you in his sheets, rolled up in his scent. He loves it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, he gets horny when he sees how you get along with his brothers. When you are laughing with Cassian or Rhys, his heart swells in his chest (he doesn't like you having a little too much fun with them though or he gets very jealous, but don't worry, he'll show you who you belong to that night). But I just think that Azriel connects his love for you with the passion you two also have in the bedroom. So that's why it turns him on to see you with his brothers. The love and admiration he feels for you turns in some feral desperation. The way you fit into his family... he just wants to fuck you so good as a reward. And... he wants to have you full with his cum, to expand that family.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn't like fireplay or things with temperature, but that speaks for itself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Once he's begun, the male can't stop eating you out. While he does this, he touches you everywhere. He strokes and grabs your whole body, worshipping you. Of course his shadows also help him with this.

When you give him head he's still a giver, he tugs on your hair and he lets his shadows touch you. He's also very rough with you when you give hime head, Azriel loves to throatfuck. The groans and whines he lets out while he's fucking your pretty lips, are so hot. One time you started massaging his balls and he came immediately, you were both surprised and Az was so shy about it omg

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough, definetely. When (it doesn't happen a lot) he lets you take control, it's also very rough and fast (you ride that man so hard and he loves it). On special occasions it's slow, because he loves to be sensual too. Kissing you everywhere, gently stroking your hips, breathing softly into your ear, soft moans,... <3

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Azriel really doesn't like quickies, I think. He's used to taking his time with you. It would be weird for him when he only makes you come one time, he would be so confused after a quickie, like: huh? are we done yet? why?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Azriel loves to take risks, public sex is one of his favourites. He can literally hide you, by using his shadows. One time, he's fucked you in an alley next to Rita's, with people around you who couldn't see what you two were doing. It was so thrilling, the way Az was pounding into you, your body pushed between his chest and the brick wall. You both came so fast because of the tension.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Az can go for many rounds, and when he's getting a little tired, he still keeps fucking you. Even though you're already overstimulated. At the end, his whole weight is on top of you, your clammy bodies pressed into each other. He's exhausted but his hips keep moving, because he just doesn't want to stop, he wants to stay buried inside of you :( His thrusts are sloppy and slow. He gets so pussydrunk by the end, his head in the crook of your neck, whispering filthy things into your ear. "You're so good for me, my good girl", "Can't stop fucking this little pussy."

Even after so many rounds, he keeps coming. By then, there's so much of his cum in you already. You help him with that, by softly stroking the sensitive inside of his wings.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns lots of them. Mostly, he uses his shadows as toys, they can function as restraints or as gags. But that doesn't mean he also has that in his closet. The spymaster appreciates some tools to pleasure (or torture ;) ) his lover. He also loves when you use toys on him. He prefers cock rings and masturbation sleeves. Oh god, he goes feral when you use them on him (and he wants you to use a strap-on but he's too scared to bring it up... He's going to ask Cassian for advice though)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be a big tease, he likes to edge you (but he likes overstimulating you more). You also dare to be unfair with him (he's obsessed with you acting like a bratty tease). The most effective way to do that is to touch his wings. You always start with a soft, teasing stroke, your fingers barely touching the silky membrane. He groans deeply when you do that. "Please" he grunts. "What?" you ask innocently. "Touch them properly" he demands with a groan. But you love to keep teasing him a little more with those soft strokes that make him go crazy for you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The sounds he makes are mostly low moans and groans. He also loves to whisper things into your ears when it's more intimate, or when you are fucking for a while already.

He talks a lot (surprisingly) during sex. Gods, he has the dirtiest mouth. Az says things like:

"Lick it baby, right there"

"Oh no, my poor baby, my cum is dripping out of you, let me put it back in"

"Get on your knees for me, right now"

"Scream for me, let everyone know who you belong to."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves to let his shadows do all the work sometimes. You just lay in each others arms, intimate and close. And the shadows stroke his chest, nipples, tickle his ear, while they play with your breasts and clit. He lets his shadows touch his cock and lets them penetrate all your holes (and his). Then you cum together in eachothers arms. Both breathing and moaning heavily, kissing passionately. Yes, those shadows can be useful.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It's canon that Azriel is long. He has a dick that can reach spots you didn't even know existed. It's always a struggle to take him in the beginning, he knows it too, "first, I gotta prep you a little baby, making sure you're ready for me, yeah?" (he's so hot omg)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He has a high sex drive, but he also has a lot of self control. But... not when you seduce him and you do things like whisper in his ear, lick or kiss that soft spot on his neck. Or when you softly stroke his hardening length over his pants,...

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He loves to caress you asleep with his shadows around you, making you comfortable and brushing your skin. He also puts his wing around you when you sleep. Only after your eyes fall closed, he falls asleep too.

#acotar #azriel #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger

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surielstea · 2 days

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Desperate Males

1k celebration request!

Pairing: Poly!Batboys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Morrigan convinces Reader to indulge in her fantasies with the three winged Illyrians, the ones that the reader resents for the way they treat her home court, the hewn city.

A. Note: Thank you my lovely Lex (@lexluvswriting) for helping me finish this because I was STRUGGLING but I’m happy with how it turned out in the end :)

8.1k words .. half of it’s smut, whoops.

Rita's was packed full of lusting fae and grinding figures, every single body in the pleasure hall was glistening with sweat beneath the dim lighting as they continued to rut against each other.

I was sat in the corner of the building, at a small booth I was sharing with Morrigan, gossiping about our relationship issues over a few too many glasses of wine.

Mor was one of the only people I could tolerate ever since Rhys dragged me out of the Court of Nightmares and to Velaris. I hadn't had much of a choice, the moment he found out I was his mate, he felt some form of entitlement to me, he was fortunate he wasn't ripping me away from anything special, less fortunate when he realized I held the mating bond with his two best friends as well. All three of them, sanctioned to me, a female who had no intention of ever accepting any of their bonds.

Mor was from the hewn city as well, born and raised in that wretched court. It made it easier to talk to her, she understood what I meant when I said it felt like I was living a lie, too good to be true and she knew what I meant when I tried to explain my fear of the ever-imposing threat that it'd be ripped out right from under me at any moment. No one could truly understand the way she could, and though my resentment towards the inner circle was much stronger than hers, she made an effort to relate and be there for me.

"So, how are the boys?" Mor grins suggestively before taking a sip from her drink. I groan, slumping into my seat as I think about the three very annoying males she was referring to.

"Desperate," I grumble and she chuckles into her glass.

"How so?" She smiles, leaning onto her hand propped up by her elbow. "Give me some examples," She urges.

I shake my head with an eye roll, saying, "I don't have any." She gives me an undefeated look, a raise of her brows telling me she was waiting for me to go on. "The stories are too long," I argue but she still remains unwavering.

"Good thing we've got time," She leans back in her seat, getting comfortable as if she was prepared to stay in the pleasure hall with me all night. "Start with Rhys."

Rhysand had a tendency of showing up to the house of wind unannounced, quite a lot. So much so that the male has probably been in this house more than his own. To be fair, he was the one paying for it so I suppose this was just as much his house as any of his other residences, but ever since I started living here his visits began to grow personal. I've only been residing in Velaris for a few months now but he still made it his mission to see me at least every other day. Each time he welcomed himself into the large house he'd have some sort of gift with him, tonight was no exception.

I didn't startle when I heard the front door open, and I barely even flinched when his baritone voice crooned from the direction of the couch as I entered the sitting room. He had his long legs stretched across the couch, his head tilted back against the armrest, and his arms crossed over his chest.

"Evening, darling," He drawls and I look at him with an indifferent expression.

"It's the middle of the night," I grumble, going into the kitchen and grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

"I knew you were awake," He intoned and I rolled my eyes, filling my glass up with cold water.

"I'm about to go to bed," I claim, approaching the sitting room to look at him. He angles his head to meet my gaze, a sloppy smirk on his lips.

"Can I join?" He bats his eyelashes dramatically and I debate splashing my freshly poured water into his face. I decide not to, instead silently turning on my heel and retreating down the hallway. He shuffles off the couch and follows right behind me but I pay him no mind. I push open my bedroom door, leaving it open for his entry, because even if he agitated me it'd be a lie to say I disliked his attention. I was a simple female, and making him chase me like this so successfully was amusing, if not a little cruel.

"I have a gift for you," He informs in a sing-song tune.

"When do you not?" I say, placing my water down onto my nightstand and crawling into my large bed, Rhys had insisted on the size when we went furniture shopping so it could fit his wings, I had ignored his foolish assumption that he would ever sleep in my bed, but let him buy me the most expensive mattress anyway.

He reaches into a pocket dimension and removes a flat, rectangular, velvet box, one made for holding tiaras.

"I don't want your money Rhys," I sigh, watching as he situated himself on my bed, his long legs on either side of my hips, encasing me as I practically sit in his lap. "It's not money," He puts a hand up, waving me off. "I don't want your jewels or crowns either," I huff as he places the velvet box directly in front of me.

"It's not— just open it, will you?" His eyes plead with me more than his words. I stifle a curse and pick the ornate box up. It was heavier than I had been expecting, my brows crease as I slowly tilt the lid open, revealing what was inside. It wasn't money or gems, or even a fancy tiara, but a sleek dagger.

The hilt was solid obsidian, embellished with gold detailing, so well crafted it almost felt wrong to be in my hands. Deep red rubies adorned the top of the hilt in a teardrop shape, pointing up to the blade that's been polished to an impossibly sharp edge, Illyrian steel based upon the rich color of the metal. It was utterly elegant, in such a lethally arresting way.

I take the dagger from its confining box, my touch is delicate as I admire it from all angles, the blade moves so fluidly like the steel morphed into liquid when moving through the air. "You like it?" Rhys' voice breaks me from my trance and I grip the hilt a little tighter, looking up at him with an innocent gaze.

"It's unlike anything I've seen before," I murmur, still entranced by its beauty and the way it moved. He smiled at that, proud of himself for finding a way to impress me.

"It's an heirloom," He confesses and my expression drops, looking up at him.

"I can't take this," I immediately say, attempting to shove the dagger back into his hands.

"Sure you can," He sighs. "I have no use for it, and I heard you have a collection of pretty blades," He says, leaning back on his palms and ignoring the way I was haphazardly thrusting the dagger toward him.

"No, Rhys," I declare and his ears perk at the use of his nickname, he's been only Rhysand specifically for the last few months. "I can't, you're only doing all of this because we're supposed to be mates," I say. "I'm not worthy of your gifts, you're just blinded by the effects of the bond,” I say but my explanation must’ve failed to reach his ears because his smile simply remains.

"Darling, I'm a powerful male, if I didn't want the mating bond to affect me I wouldn't let it," He says cockily and I struggle to keep my eyes from rolling at his pride. "I'm doing this, because I want to, it's that simple," He places his large hands on mine, closing my fingers around the dagger. "But, if you don't want it then—" He starts and I shake my head hurriedly. "No, no I do want it," I grip his hands tighter and his brows raise a fraction. "Perfect," His smile returns, but his hands don't let go of mine and maybe for a moment I let myself indulge in his comforting touch.

"And you're telling me the two of you didn't fuck after that?" Mor questioned, an appalled look on her face as I ended my story about the High Lord.

"He gave me a blade, it wasn't exactly getting me hot and bothered," I scoff and she smirks.

"He could've given you another blade," She murmured under her breath but it wasn't quiet enough for me to miss. "Mor!" I look at her with wide eyes but she only snickers.

"Okay, I'm not totally convinced you dislike him, but tell me about Cass," She urges and I deadpan.

"Are you going to make sex jokes again?" I raise an assuming brow.

"No promises," She croons. "Now tell me about him."

Cassian loved to strut around half-naked. His shirt was often absent when I was around. It was an obvious ploy to swoop me off my feet, to get me drooling over his more than impressive abdomen and his arms that could crush my head in. And perhaps I did drool over him in the solitude of my bedroom, but I'd never let him know that.

I was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my dinner when I nearly choked on my bite of food as Cassian strolled in, clad in nothing but pants and glistening in sweat from training. His hair was tied up in a messy bun that sat at the back of his head, a sword half the size of me slung over his shoulder in a sheath. I swallow my food with effort, my eyes unable to avert from every expanse of skin starting below his neck.

"Hey sweetheart," He says, kicking the front door shut. I snapped my gaze to his but the smirk on his face made it evident that he caught me staring. "Did you make dinner?" He asked, propping his sword up against the side of the counter. I didn’t make dinner, he knew that, because if I had I would be retroactively accepting the mating bond, he just wanted to put the idea in my head.

"Az did," I say through bites, the shadow singer beside me, silently reading a book, successfully not paying Cassian any mind unlike me.

"Is it any good or do you miss my cooking?" He asks with an amused smile, earning him a glare from the spymaster.

"It's delicious," I say, taking another large bite. I hadn't meant to indirectly compliment Azriel but he slightly smiled at my insult on Cassian, then returning to his reading.

The other male grumbled beneath his breath like a toddler throwing a fit as he made himself a plate that seemed more like a feast fit for a starving man, walking to the table and sitting down directly in front of me.

"You're not going to change?" I ask and he raises a brow and looks down at himself.

"Do you, want me to?" He said, slightly confused.

"Well, what if I started showing up to dinner shirtless?" I cross my arms with a scowl, Cassian's eyes light with amusement and Azriel begins to choke on his own air, muffling his coughs as he stuffed his face into his arms.

"I don't think we'd mind," Cassian winked at me and I looked down at my plate, silently cursing myself for walking right into that one.

"I just think it's bad table manners, is all," I murmur, leaning onto my hand as I roll my food over with my fork, playing with it aimlessly.

"If it has that much of an effect on you, I'll go change," He begins to stand and I whip my gaze up, staring at him with creased brows, not wanting him to think I was entirely bothered by it.

"It doesn't have an effect on me," I blurt out and a smirk curves his lips.

"Then I won't change," He sits back down.

"Fine," I say.

"Fine," He agrees.

Dinner went on a regularity from there, that was until I was clearly done with my food and I hadn't retreated to my room like usual, instead, I was far too distracted analyzing all the scars on Cassian's tanned skin, the ones that had stories behind them that I'd most likely never hear, the ones I would've never seen if he hadn't come home without a shirt.

His chest was on full display, rippling in muscle, a tight abdomen that would have me lying if I said my mouth wasn't watering when I stared at it for a moment too long. And gods, his arms made my thoughts wander beyond just arousal, it was more than a craving. My hands were practically shaking in my lap and I was just grateful they were beneath the table.

My eyes snag on a particular scar cutting across his ribs and up to his sternum, it must've been a mess of blood and gore when he got it, only for it to heal over as a simple line slightly darker than his skin tone, beautiful.

"I got it in a duel," Cassian said and I whipped my head up, locking eyes with him.

"What?" I say, my back ramrod straight, visibly embarrassed by the fact that I was just caught for staring so unabashedly.

"My scar," He places a hand over it, tracing two fingers down the raised skin with a practiced, rehearsed movement like he's down it thousands of times before. "It was from an angry husband, his wife neglected to mention she was married and he took some offense towards our, familiarity." He explained. "Insisted on a duel," He shrugged, and I blinked in slight shock.

"You, lost a duel?" I said like the idea was obscene. "Aren't you considered one of the best swordsmen on the continent?" I raised a brow and he shrugged.

"Seemed like the right thing to do," He flashed a charming smile that's guaranteed to have dropped panties before. "You're ridiculous," I said, standing up and grabbing my plate, walking into the kitchen to place my dishes in the sink. The Illyrian followed after me with his own plate, reaching over me and placing it in the basin beside mine.

I whirl around, which turned out to be admittedly a mistake. His bare chest was so close to my face that it was an effort to crane my neck up, keeping eye contact and not letting myself crumble beneath his gaze. "What do you think?" He asks and my eyes regrettably flick down to the scar, and I can't help myself as I reach forward, my fingers brushing over the rough line of skin and I swear for a moment both of us stop breathing. I tentatively pull my hand away, looking up at him with a smirk.

"I think you have enough testosterone to fuel an army," I hum, patting his chest before pushing past him and removing myself from the kitchen, attempting to ignore the way my hand remembered the feel of his skin against it.

Cassian turned to Azriel as soon as I was out of earshot. "That's a good thing, right?" The male mutters with a line between his brows. Azriel's eyes flick up from his novel to look at his brother. "I don't think so, no." He shakes his head, then returns to his page while Cassian's shoulders slump in defeat and he retreats to his room to find a shirt.

"You're telling me, you had your hand on Cassian, the male pushing seven feet, skin to skin and you didn't immediately surrender?" Morrigan says, her brows creased as she grows increasingly worried about my well-being. "Are you sick or something?" She reaches over the table, pressing a hand to my forehead and I scoff, the annoyed sound turning into a laugh as I push her hand away.

"I'm not sick," I claim. "Just a female who has no interest in large, muscular, beautiful, tan males," I grumble, taking a sip from my glass, my voice trailing off as I go on about how truly magnificent they are.

"Right," She settles back into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, unconvinced. "So," She smirks. "I know you've been saving the best for last," She leans forward, her grin uncontrollable as she rests her elbows on the table while she insists, "Tell me about Azriel."

My experience in Velaris so far was enjoyable— despite the three winged males, the people were kind here, the men didn't stare, the children weren't sickly, and the women held more value than the curvature of their bodies. It was nice here, like some false paradise.

A small part of me would forever hate Rhys and all the others living in his secret city for blindly living their perfect lives, while innocent people dreaded waking up every morning— because the best time they spent was unconscious, in their horrid city just below the mountain, only a short trip away. Such a drastic shift of atmosphere.

Sometimes when my guilt of being happy began to grow too unbearable I found myself in the library. The first and only place so far I've felt entirely safe. It was quiet here, enough to clear my thoughts, but not enough for unwanted ones to creep in. Priestesses bustled around the building with carts and stacks of books, keeping the tenor lively and welcoming.

So it was a shock when my safe space was suddenly and harshly ripped away from me when I saw a familiar winged Illyrian sitting in the spot I always chose. It wasn't mine by any means, but the bastard must've known this was the alcove I selected every time I came here, there was no way he just so happened to favor this spot as well with the amount of floors alone this place had.

"Move," I was particularly upset this morning due to lack of sleep from incessant nightmares. He only smirks, his eyes slow as they left the book he was so engrossed with, and dragged up to my features. Hazel pools flickering with amusement as he meets my gaze.

"Oh? Is this your spot?" He tilts his head mockingly and I grip my book harder.

I disliked Rhys for how he acts in the Hewn City, and Cassian for his overtly boisterous and arrogant behavior, but Azriel— no one quite got under my skin like Azriel. I couldn't exactly pin down why he made me so frustrated, perhaps it was because he would be the easiest to like, or maybe it was because I always thought he was the prettiest whenever they'd make their annual appearance in my home court, something about that particular fact made me hot with both rage and excitation.

"Well, I haven't exactly seen you sitting here before," I argue, clutching my book to my chest with furrowed brows.

"Fair point," He hums while scooting over and offering me a few more inches of space. It wasn't exactly the largest amount of seating area but he was kind enough to move, and I was far too tired to continue arguing. So I settled in beside him.

The spot I favored over all the others was nestled in a carved-out alcove, hidden from any peering eyes, located between shelves full of various hardback spines. The only viewpoint was from the balcony upstairs, or straight ahead. It felt safe, and I've yet to find any other place I liked as much as this one, so I was open to sharing as long as he kept to his book and I kept to mine, silently.

But the olive green couch wasn't big enough for the both of us and I quietly cursed his insanely large wings for taking up the entire area, one of the dark limbs spread out behind me while the other hung off the edge of the couch, the one behind my back however forced me closer to him, my side pressed against his, and my legs that I had pressed to my chest leaning onto his lap, so much so that I might as well have just been sitting in it, we must've looked ridiculous.

Nevertheless, he opened his book back up and offered me the peaceful quiet I craved. I did the same, cracking my book and finding the page I was on.

It was nice for a moment, the awkward silence morphing into something more comfortable as it grew familiar between us. I had even gotten a few chapters in before I reached a much more, graphic, chapter. The descriptions were downright erotic, and suddenly everything the male did stopped mattering because I was now entirely consumed by the book I had randomly picked off the shelves this morning.

"What are you reading?" He was so very close to my ear that I felt his breath against it, and I snapped my book shut, the sound echoing off the shelves of the quiet library.

"None of your business," I retort, whipping my head to him with stern brows, he narrows his at me suspiciously. "What about you?" I jerk my head towards his closed book like it's been neglected for more than just a few seconds. "Is it a guide on how to kill your brothers? Because I might be interested in reading that one next," I say with a smirk and he mirrors it.

"I wish, Cass practically kicked me out this morning with his atrocious singing while he made himself lunch," He grumbled and my lip quivered upward, my amusement unmanageable at the scene he put in my head, and I cursed myself because, of course, he notices.

"Oh, you think I'm funny?" He says and he was so damned close that one inch closer would result in noses brushing.

"Shh." I press my pointer finger to his soft lips. "No talking in the library." I smirk at him teasingly, removing my touch from his sensuous lips, dragging the bottom one down only for it to spring back up when I let go in an oddly satisfying way.

"We don't have to talk," He suggests, catching my hand before it can fall to my lap. My cheeks grow hot as he interlaces our fingers, palms pressing together, soft skin against scars. He notices my blush and moves that lethal inch closer, the tip of his nose ghosting against mine. "You want to kiss me so badly," He continues his taunts and I scowl, but I don't dare move away.

"Shut up," I bite back.

"Are you going to make me?" He arches a perfect brow and I grit my teeth, deciding I won't play his stupid games. I detangle our hands and turn away from him, but I can still feel his eyes on me.

"You're just as bad as your brothers," I claim, opening my book again.

"You wound me," He gasps in faux pain and I roll my eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be the quiet one?" I huff, attempting to find the page I was on.

"Just because they're loud doesn't mean I don't speak too," He states, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Whatever," I grumble, and his wing curls around me a little tighter. He stayed silent for a moment, just a moment of relieving peace, but it was over as soon as it began and I was grateful for the second, but the opposite of gratitude came over me when he spoke again.

"This is filthy, love," He runs his finger down the edge of my book and I close the novel again, this time quietly so it doesn't reverberate throughout the library again.

"I'm not shaming you," His voice is deep and seductive as he speaks, so very close to my ear I swear with every word I could feel it vibrate down my spine. "Just wanted to let you know I'm open to recreating it," He suggested and I sighed, deciding I'd had enough of his banter, and stood up, clutching my book to my chest as I looked back to him.

"You're relentless," I say and he shrugs with a coy smile.

"No goodbye kiss?" He hums and I only shake my head and storm out of the alcove, leaving the library more frustrated than I was when I arrived.

"And?" Mor gestures her hands, demanding more.

"That was it," I shrug.

"You didn't go back and make out with him?" She creased her brows like I was insane.

"No, because I don't need a male to enjoy my life," I say. "You are one to understand that," I suggest with my brows raising and she simply rolls her eyes with dissatisfaction.

"Yeah, but— that doesn't mean you should strip yourself the pleasure of having all three of them," She wiggles her brows and my cheeks grow hot. "Or you could just pick one and miss out with the rest," She adds, before taking a sip from her glass, the liquid inside nearly gone.

I thought it might've been impossible to just pick one. They all had their own personalities and unique qualities, and what if I somehow chose wrong? What if my decision came between the three of them? Then again why can't I just have all three of them? They're all so kind to me, and they're funny, and so very gorgeous, and— "Oh gods, I'm in love," I gasp quietly, my hand cupping over my mouth at the devastating recognition.

Morrigan only nods with a wide grin, like she's been waiting for me to realize since we sat down in this booth. "What do I do?" Suddenly I don't know how to think, or how to act.

"Put them out of their misery and feed those poor bastards," She proposed and I groaned with defiance.

“I’ve been working so hard to ignore their pathetic acts for the last five months, I can’t just give in now.” I practically melt onto the table, my head falling into my arms dramatically.

“Hey, listen to me,” She grabs me by the face, smushing my cheeks as she emphasizes every word. “Do you want them to fuck you senseless?” She asks and I sigh, but inevitably nod with a pitying frown. “Then go." She releases my face and shoos me with her hands and I smile as I stand up. “You’re the best Morrigan,” I claim and she winks at me. “I know,” She shrugs and I blow her a kiss before winnowing to where the tether between the three men felt the strongest.

Which landed me in a cabin I'd never been in before, the sitting room warmed by the crackling fire in the hearth.

Whatever conversation the three males were having halted when I showed up. They all looked at me with analyzing eyes, raking up and down my figure, still in my party dress from Rita's, the material tight, hugging every curve and dip of my body and ending high on my thighs, showing off the entirety of my legs and an obscene amount of cleavage, which the males definitely didn't miss.

Cassian and Rhys were sat on a sofa in front of the fire, Azriel was situated in a large leather chair that he claimed like some sort of king, distanced from the fire I notice. All three of them had short crystal glasses, a matching decanter sat on the coffee table halfway filled with an amber liquid.

"Hey, sweetheart," Cassian was the first to speak. "What brings you here?" He hums and I clench my jaw. What was I doing here? Silently I whirl on my heel and walk towards the kitchen, finding a bowl of fruit situated on the counter. I grabbed an orange from the variety, taking my time to peel the rind off, the three of them staring at me curiously as I approached them again, splitting the pieces of the fruit into thirds, handing each of them a slice without a single word.

"Are oranges supposed to pair well with whiskey?" Rhys held the fruit up, staring at it confused as if the High Lord truly didn't understand what was going on. He wasn't seriously going to make me say it, was he?

"Eat," I demand but they only stare at me with blank eyes and I sigh, my shoulders sagging. "Whoever's orange is gone first I'll make out with," I say and within the blink of an eye all three of their slices of fruit were gone, but I caught Azriel swallowing first so I approach him and take the liberty of sliding over his lap.

He wastes no time before putting his hands on me and pulling me into him, his lips immediately finding mine.

I smile at the citrusy taste still ghosting his tongue as he pushes it into my mouth, tasting every inch he can find like a starved animal, craving more. My hand goes into his hair while his scarred ones slowly slip beneath my dress, gripping me tightly and pinning me down onto his hips, allowing me to feel just how hard he was beneath me.

Desperate, indeed.

"Az," I whine softly and he groans at the sound, his kisses turning sloppy as he loses himself entirely in the taste of me.

"Alright," Cassian's voice calls, familiar, large hands coming to my waist and pulling me off of Azriel's lap with ease, throwing me over a broad shoulder.

"Is this what it's going to be like mated to you three?" I say, still upside down as Cassian's hands roam the backs of my thighs, then higher. "Passed around between you three like some doll?" I say, secretly not minding the idea.

"If you don't want to be passed around," He tosses me down onto a large bed. "We can always share at once," He hums and I had an unshakable feeling that I would be split in half if I took all of them for the first time, at once.

"No, I like being passed around," I say with bright red cheeks and he smirks, guiding me up onto the bed, my head meeting the pillows.

"Then who do you want first?" He hums, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Rhys," I look to the high lord. "I want Rhys," I say and the violet-eyed male raised a brow, his smirk uncontrollable as he approached the bedside. Cassian moved off of me and Rhys took his place over me, his lips finding mine with ease.

He kisses softly at first but that only last so long before he's leaving my mouth and beginning to nip and suck on my neck, licking over it to soothe the marks. I writhe beneath him, my hands in his dark hair as I ache for more. I reach for his pants, unbuckling his belt with one hand before moving to the ties confining his hardened bulge.

"No darling, you're going to ride me," He says breathily into my neck and my hand halts on his pants. He smirked at my reaction and flipped us over so I was on top. He unzips the back of my dress with ease, helps me slip it off with gentle hands as I straddle over his hips, now completely bare for all three of them, but it was only Rhys' eyes I was focused on at the moment.

I rut my hips down over the imprint in his pants, releasing a soft sigh as the action puts friction on my clit. He smiled up at me and how needy I was for him already.

He takes his pants the rest of the way off, his boxers along with it and I can't help but smile at the sight of him, his tip pulsing and red, and the length of him was intimidating enough on its own. "You think you're ready for me?" He asks, ripping my panties off with an ease I marveled at, but before I could reply to his question he swiped his fingers through my folds and my breath hitched at the stimulation, my arousal soaking his fingers, he pulls them back for me to see and I flush in embarrassment at how wet I already was.

"Oh, darling I've barely touched you," he smirks and I look away from his eyes, attempting to get my blush under control. "There's no need to be shy," He guides my face back to look at him. "Be good and take all of me, yeah?" He arches a dark brow and I nod, placing my hands on his chest as I rise on my knees while he helps align himself with my entrance.

He looks at me pointedly and I nod, then sink myself down onto him, ever so slowly.

"That's it," He grunts out as my cunt swallows around the head of his cock. He throws his head back into the pillows as I sink deeper, reaching the halfway point and clenching around him hard.

My nails scratched down his chest as the unfamiliar stretched, his eyes gleaming with pure lust until eventually my hips pressed against his and I let out a sinful moan as he brushed up against that bundle of nerves deep inside of me, kissing it softly.

"Rhys," I sigh, my nails digging into his abdomen as my cunt twitched around him. His hands come to my hips, slowly guiding me back and forth, manually making me grind on him.

"Fuck, taking me so well," He grits between his teeth, already restraining himself.

My back involuntarily arches as he kisses up against that sensitive spot again, moans tumbling from my lips as I begin to bounce myself up and down on his cock. He smiles hazily, his hands leaving my waist in favor of cupping my breasts, rubbing his calloused thumbs over my peaked nipples. My breath hitched at the sensation, clenching around him tighter as he groped them, tweaking them between his fingers, making my release barrel closer.

"So good for me, getting yourself off on my cock," He admires and I nod, a whimper slipping from my lips as I pull myself out to his tip then let gravity slam me back down onto him, the head of his length pounding into my sacred spot, making me release a lewd moan, screaming out his name as I clamp around the width of him, a ring of white forming around the base of his cock.

"Feels so, so good darling," He says breathlessly. "Such a good girl," He murmurs and I throw my head back at the praise.

"I'm close— Rhys, I can't," I pant out, unable to catch my breath with the way he relentlessly pounded into my cunt. "Me too, fuck— keep doing that," He grunted. "Keep squeezing me so tight, just like that," He instructs and I nod, my pussy taking all of him as he twitches deep inside of me, signaling that he was close.

I go faster, my thighs burning with the movement but I ignore the pain, delighting in the pleasure he was giving me. He pounds into me relentlessly, both of us teetering along that edge, and the moment his hands find my nipples again I'm left helpless, and suddenly I rise to my climax, coming to a crescendo as I meet my peak of pleasure.

I gasp as his warm cum seeps into my cunt, spurting out of his cock with one last clench of my core and he released a thick white liquid. "Gods, such a good girl," He sighs out, his large hands groping my breasts one last time before they dip down to my waist, and help guide me off of his length, laying me back into the bed.

"Cass," I murmured, keeping my legs together in order to hold Rhys' release inside of me. "Cassian, I want you next," I pant out, still not entirely over the high that Rhys left me with but I already wanted more, and lucky for me the male was there quickly, switching with Rhys as he hovers over me, his pants already absent and his cock leaking a milky substance, the sight making my mouth water. He was noticeably wider than Rhys, and I debated whether or not he'd tear me in two.

"Flip around, wanna feel your pretty pussy from behind," He hums and I do as he says, turning onto my stomach and hiking up onto my knees. His calloused hands find my hips, helping me guide them up higher, my back forming a perfect crescent as I keep my face in the pillows and maximize my arch.

"You ready for more sweetheart?" He asks and I nod, tears welling in my eyes as his heavy cock slaps against my soaking folds, my arousal dripping onto him as Rhys' release cascaded down my thighs. He lathers himself in my liquids, his pre-cum adding to the mixture.

"Want you, Cass," I murmur. "Don't hold back," I add and I can practically feel the way he was smirking. His tip prodding against my pulsing entrance.

"Tell me if it's too much alright?" He kisses my shoulder softly, his rough voice gentle as it meets my ear. I nod, but before any more words are spoken he grips my hips tighter and thrusts inside of me.

I gasp, breath being lost on me as I fist the sheets beneath me. "Cass," I cry out, the width of him stretching against my walls, molding me to him.

"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," He sighs out and I gripe, writhing beneath him as he pushes deeper and deeper, forcing my legs wider so he could enter more comfortably.

My breathing is labored as his hips finally snap against my ass. He groans at the feeling of his cock entirely sheathed inside of my cunt, stretching me beyond capacity like a sleeve made just for him.

"Please, Cass," I whine and he leans over me, my back bowing against his chest, his lips coming beside my ear.

"We only just started, sweetheart," He taunted, nipping at my shoulder.

Ever so slowly he pulls out, removing himself only about halfway before slamming back into me with an outmatched force. I screamed at the switch of pace, his thrusts coming quickly, pushing me up the bed.

I reached forward, gripping the headboard to stop my body from unconsciously running away from him. He drove his hips forward harshly, his balls slapping against my folds. His hands left my hips in favor of my ass, handling me roughly as I arched beneath him, feeling his width deeper the lower into the pillows I went.

"Good girl.” He throws his head back, sweat glistening as it rolls down his chest, into the groves of his abdomen. I mewl loudly, incapable of forming words as he fucks me beyond sentences.

"Such pretty noises you're making for me," He hums, his lips ghosting against the shell of my ear. "Am I making you feel good?" He whispers and I swallow thickly, tears brimming my eyes as I nod helplessly, defenseless under him like this. He smirks at my unsolicited actions as I grip around his shaft tighter, delighting in how good it feels as he stretches me.

His hands returned to the curve of my ass, gripping the plush skin in his large hands, loving the way it left red imprints, marking me as his, as theirs.

"Pull my hair," I murmur.

"What was that, pretty girl?" He leans over me and I flush shyly, I knew he heard me the first time.

"Pull my hair," I repeat and he smiles.

"Yeah? You want that?" He wraps his hand around my locks, gripping the back of my skull before tugging on it and I moan, my release catching up to me as he manhandles me, just how I wanted. His grip tightens as I squeeze around his cock, his heavy balls continuing to clap against my neglected folds. "That's it, baby, just like that," He assures, watching as I lose myself in the heat, fire blooming over my skin as my release barrels closer and closer.

"Please," Tears slip down my cheeks. "Let me cum, I’m close," I mewl, gripping the headboard tighter, my nails denting the wood.

"Already?" He teased and I nod, pushing myself back onto his cock and he grunts, twitching inside of me and brushing against my elastic walls. "Go ahead, make a mess sweetheart," He allows and I immediately follow his order, my orgasm ripping through me for the second time tonight, his following soon after, shooting his load of cum into me, filling my every crevice and mixing with Rhysand's inside of me.

I grip at the sheets as he pumps into me one last time and I clamp down on him, milking his cock as he slowly removes himself from me and collapses down onto the bed beside me.

My legs ache as I sink back down into the mattress, my intense high slowly fading away as I flip over onto my back.

I jolt as a cold sensation runs up my thighs, skidding across my waist and meeting my breasts, shadows swirling around the peaks of my nipples, slowly tightening and beginning to tweak the hardened buds.

"Az," I sigh, shaking my head. "I can't," I murmur, far too overstimulated to even think about taking another round.

"You can." He comes between my legs, shadows forming at my thighs and prying them open, forcing them to stay even when I try to close them. I can make out the way Cassian's cum seeps out of my cunt and down my ass, the feeling making my mouth water for Azriel's cum too, wanted all of their release to mix in my womb.

"There's so many things I've wanted to do to you," He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my collarbone. "Things I've imagined doing to you," He confesses, beginning to place soft pecks up the side of my neck, to my jaw. "Which one of us do you think of when you touch yourself?" He asks, his lips ghosting over mine and my brows bunch because it'd be a lie if I said I ever thought about just one of them.

"I asked you a question," He purrs, his hands coming to my wrists, gathering them up above my head. "Be a good girl and answer it for me." The tip of his nose runs along the side of my neck before his lips make contact with the side of my throat, teeth grazing over the sensitive flesh.

"All of you," I confess, pulling slightly at my wrists as he lets go but shadows have them pinned down too.

"Yeah? Do you like to imagine all three of us ruining all your pretty, wet holes at once?" He croons, his mouth just beside my ear and I writhe, unable to even grind against my own thighs since his shadows were holding me open, leaving me desperate and vulnerable for his own pleasure.

"Az," I whine.

"Tell me," He demands. "Tell me what you think about when your fingers are stuffed in your needy cunt," He hums and my brows crease at how humiliating this all was.

"I think about all three of you, fucking all my pretty holes," I confess and he smiles proudly.

"Yeah? Does that get you off?" He hums and I nod with a whimper, murmuring a pathetic, "Mhm."

His fingers are barely there as he drags them up my figure, then back down to my hips, keeping me restrained as I clench around nothing.

"I need you inside of me, please," I beg and he manically grins, kissing along my jaw, nipping at it as I continue to pull against his shadows.

"Such a needy little thing aren't you?" He taunts and I nod, agreeing with whatever he wants me to as long as he pushes himself inside of me. "Yeah? Don't worry baby, I'm going to ruin you." He said, his grip tightening on my hips as he pressed his tip to my entrance, and without another warning, pushed inside of me.

I screamed his name loudly at the intense feeling, he didn't waste time and he most definitely wasn't gentle like Rhys, or kind like Cassian, he was fucking me like an animal, and I loved every second of it.

Maybe it was because I was overstimulated but he felt so fucking long inside of me, and when his length was fully sheathed in my cunt I swore he was up against my cervix.

Shadows released my thighs for only a moment so that he could adjust my legs, pulling them up to my sides and putting me into a mating press.

"Gods, you're taking me so well," He admires, staring down at me with low-lidded eyes as I let him withdraw everything he wants from me, his cock nestled deep inside of me as I take him deeper and deeper while he fucked me into the mattress, unrelenting and so very stimulating.

"That's it, so fucking good," He throws his head back at the feeling of my puffy cunt squeezing around him torturously tight. "Gods, I'm going to fuck this wet pussy until you beg me to stop," He groans and I moan at his lewd words, and the sounds of his hips slapping against the backs of my thighs, his full balls smacking into my ass as he continued his rough pace.

He looks down at me, sweat lining my forehead and a permanent blush over my cheeks, tears running down the sides of my face as he uses me.

"You look so pretty tied up like this," He smirks, analyzing my every breath, as if needing to remember this for later.

My mouth is open, moans escaping the base of my throat with each of his thrusts, the head of his long cock kissing my cervix and I scream, my nails digging into my palms as I fight off my orgasm, feeling my encroaching climax grow closer and closer.

"Az—" I start, barely able to get his name out before I'm cut off by another moan. "I have to—" I can't even say it, tears blurring my vision as he continues to pummel into me and I deflect my third release. "You already have to cum baby?" He smirks down at me and I nod, so grateful he understood but my gratitude dwindled away with his next words. "You wanna cum? You think you've earned it?"

I nod fervently, my body aching at the position he had me stuck in. I convulse around the base thick of his cock, the back of my head buried in the pillows as I plead for my climax but he wasn't allowing it until he came too.

I force my legs open wider and he hits into me deeper, earning a grunt of pleasure from him.

"I can't Az," I plead. "I promise, I'll be a good girl just, let me cum," I say and he groans at how I sounded begging for my own release, the sounds of my moans pushing him closer to that edge.

"Alright baby, go ahead, come all over my cock," He commands and I obey without another thought, my release slamming into me hard, resulting in me shaking beneath him, my legs jolting as he slowly unpins them and lets me wrap my legs around his torso, riding out my high as he presses into my cervix and with one last harsh thrust he grunts and releases his seed into my womb, mixing it with Rhysand's and Cassian's.

My cunt is left red and swollen as he removes himself from my entrance, I close my legs as soon as he was gone, not letting any of their releases escape me, keeping it tucked inside. The mating bond affected me so much that I wanted to feel this fucked out all the time, have them fill me at every moment, drunk on their cocks.

"You did so well for us," Azriel hums, sinking into the bed beside me, my ass up against him as I flip onto my side and face Cassian, his lips finding mine, biting at my lower one while Rhys' hands fondle my oversensitive breasts. "Poor baby, she thinks we're done," Azriel hums, his cock hardening again, pressing to my ass.

"Please," I whimper but none of them stop their movements.

"It's time to take us all at once, darling," Rhys said and I gasped as I felt his hand cup my heat.

"You ready, sweetheart?" Cass asks and I can only nod helplessly.

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m-rshy · 3 days

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the ways of love | azriel x reader

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: for an illyrian warrior with a knack for vengeance, there are a number of ways in which azriel loves.

word count: 912

a/n: short but sweet <3

warnings: a bit of smut

Azriel had always been full of love, but he simply had nowhere to put it. But when you finally waltzed into his life, with that hypnotic smile and contagious laugh, he finally knew what to do with it all.

—

He always woke up long before you did, and in those early hours of the morning, he would trace his fingers along the lines of your back. He'd lean forward and brush his lips against the shell of your ear, and whisper, "It's time to get up, sweetheart."

He'd laugh at your groans of protest, and he'd gently roll you over onto your back so he could dip down and capture your lips in a sweet kiss. As gorgeous as you were, and as much as he wanted to stay in with you for the remainder of the day, that wouldn't stop him from peeling the blankets off your body, and taking your hands in his to pull you up from the bed.

—

He sometimes left books in random areas of the house for you to find. Not because he was incapable of cleaning up after himself—of course not—but because he'd found a phrase in it that made him think of you, his mate.

Whether it was a line or passage that he thought you'd like, or something that reminded him of you, he'd dog-ear the page and leave it for you to read—something small he hoped would brighten your day, even just a little.

Occasionally, he'd find something a little spicier (courtesy of Nesta's recommendations), and he'd leave a note beside it saying, 'Something you and I could recreate tonight, perhaps,' and when he would see you that night, with a sultry look on your face, he'd know you received his message.

—

Azriel is typically rougher in the sheets, but whatever you ask of him, he'll give to you. If you wanted him to be gentle, he wouldn't be anything less. If you wanted him faster and harder, Mother above, he would hardly be able to contain himself.

He'd kiss his way down your body, making sure not to leave any part of you untouched—to him, you were a goddess who needed to be worshipped. He'd glance up from the space between your legs, giving you a smirk before teasingly licking up your slick folds. Your body would jolt from the sensation, and he'd push his tongue just a little deeper, savouring the way you felt on his mouth.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he'd whisper, and he'd drink up the sound of your moans, your breathless gasps and the way you said his name.

It wouldn't take him long to make his way back up your body, where he would grasp your hips and push himself inside you, watching how your face contorted in pleasure. You'd meet him with each thrust of his hips, and he'd lean down to whisper in your ear.

"You're doing wonderful, baby," he'd murmur. "Always taking me so well..."

He'd ride you through each and every orgasm, and Gods, was it hard not to let himself come before you did. At the end of it all, he'd wrap you in his arms and kiss you deeply before muttering, "You're beautiful."

—

Azriel had memorised every little thing about you. The inflection of your laugh, the register of your voice, the way your smile reached your eyes, the curves of your body that fit perfectly against his, and so much more.

He'd memorised certain things you'd said in passing, so much so that perhaps he knew you more than you knew yourself. He often caught you off guard with some of the things he'd say, and when you'd ask him, "How on Prythian did you know that?", he'd only press a kiss to your hair and say, "It's my job to know things, sweetheart."

—

After a long day of work, when all he wanted was to be in your company, the spymaster would take you for a stroll along the Sidra—just the two of you. On the colder nights, he'd tuck his wing around your body to shield you away from the cold, and also as an excuse to have you just a little closer to him (but he wouldn't admit that).

Your existing beauty would be highlighted in the glow of the moonlight, and he would wonder to himself how he ever managed to make you fall for him—the most ethereal female he'd ever laid eyes on.

He'd wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you even closer, because a part of him thinks that this all might be a dream. That if he doesn't hold onto you tight enough, you'll slip away from him as he slinks back into consciousness.

As if sensing his thoughts, you'd stop walking for a moment and place your hands on either side of his face, bringing him down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He'd blink, and you'd smile and continue walking as if you'd done nothing, and he'd laugh and think to himself, She's going to be the death of me.

—

Azriel loved you in ways that no one else could. He loved in a way that was so tender and moving—it was hard to believe that a warrior like him could be capable of something like that. But Azriel had always had the capacity to love, and with you now in his life, that capacity would only grow.

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar #azriel x you #azriel acotar #x reader #azriel fluff #azriel smut

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nebarious · 1 day

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Cassian: *sits next to rhys* What got you so gloomy?

Rhys: I've just been thinking

Cass: Thinking about what?

Rhys: No matter how likeable you think you are there still someone hating on you

Cass: Well, isn't that given? I think there's never someone who is like by all

Rhys: Yeah, that would be impossible

Azriel: *stops sharpening truth teller* Y/N

Rhys: What?

Azriel: She's someone who's like by all and hated by none

Cass: I'm not so sure about that

Azriel: *stands up* Names

Cass: What?

Azriel: Give me the names of those who hates her

Rhys: What are you going to do?

Azriel: I'm just going to tell them that there's nothing to dislike about her

Cass: If they still hate her after?

Azriel: *smiles* Then I'll let truth teller do the talking

#acotar incorrect quotes #incorrect acotar quotes #cassian acotar #rhysand acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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azsazz · 3 days

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Tethered

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Trying a little something different here...not sure how I'm going to explain it yet, but this fic is more of a fantasy aspect than my other fics.

Warnings: Mentions of burns and death.

Word Count: 3,569

_________________________________________

Pain.

The first thing you recognize when you come to is pain. That, and the darkness.

It consumes you from all angles, a darkness so deep and ancient it feels otherworldly. It coils around you like a frightened snake, smothering what little air you’re able to choke down. You blink once, twice, to attempt to clear your vision, but the black coating the space around you doesn’t so much as shift.

It’s how you know you’re in deep shit.

A sharp pounding pierces your skull, preventing you from shoving your shaky arms beneath your aching body and pushing to your feet. The feeling is worse than that of any wound bestowed upon you up until this point. Not even the King of Hel’s rigorous training or your mother’s disappearance had been so painful.

There’s a gnawing so deeply in your bones that you wonder if the feeling has always been with you, if you’ve somehow become accustomed to the feeling of your body screaming in agony.

Growing up in Hel, you should be used to such things.

Sunbursts spot your vision, the bleeding eclipses warring with the darkness. You hold your breath for a beat or two, trying to force your pulsing heart to calm. Exhaling slowly doesn’t help, only forces your breathing to become shakier.

It’s eerily silent, save for your panting breath. The screams of agony still ring in your ears, the King of Hel’s malicious laugh accompanying them as he splays himself across his throne, grinning at the two maidens sat in his lap.

As you scramble to gather your bearings, you wrack your muddled mind for where you might be and how you survived. You take inventory of as much as you’re able—the sharp flares of pain in your ribs, jagged and harsh with each inhale and exhale you take, and there’s a ringing in your ears that gives even the wailing spirits of Hel a run for their coin.

Hel. The last thing you remember was standing before your King, the sovereign of the underworld. He’d smirked down at you from his throne made of obsidian and bones, towering over not only you, but the entirety of Hel itself. The wicked curve of his lips and piercing dark eyes had only forced you down to your knees by looks alone.

You had not wanted to meet the gaze of your ruler, always hated his attention on you, but as one of his favored, you were often in his presence. Forced into doing his dirty work because of what you were born into, powers that were unlike anything in either Hel nor Haven, a one-of-a-kind ability he sought to take advantage of.

Your glittering quiver had been strapped across your back, and the image comes back to you vividly—clutching the grip of your bow as the King sealed your bargain with a red-hot hand to your skin and a wicked grin on his face.

A shuddering inhale makes your nose scrunch. You can still smell the remnants of your burning flesh beneath his palm.

You had nearly passed out from the pain. Maybe you did, because no matter how much you furrow your brows and wrack your brain, you can’t seem to figure out how you ended up where you are now, face down on the cold, hard ground.

Reaching out blindly for the bow that’s fallen from your fingers, you groan, the long sleeve of the silky white shirt you don beneath your armor brushes against the sensitive mark on your forearm. Your fingers creak as you uncurl them, rubble and debris scratching against your hand, burying deep beneath your nails as you search for your weapon.

The lightweight of your quiver is comfortable at your back. You choke down a shuddering groan as you lift your wings, biting your lip at the tenderness you feel at your back. They seem to be in one piece, as you twist them this way and that, only throbbing dully with bruises. Creatures of all sorts could be lining the darkness surrounding you, and you understand that you’re taking too long to rise, the shadows and nightmares of The Void keeping you off balance.

The King must have had one of his goons throw your hardly-conscious body into The Void after your bargain sealed. That’s how you ended up here. A spine cracking shudder makes bumps rise on your skin as your body stills.

Stories of The Void come rushing to you, and if you try hard enough, you can smell the lingering scents of the other worlds’—a smoldering smoke as black as The Void surrounds you, cloying your throat in thick waves as if trying to choke you, brand you with the reminder of where you are to return to. Cutting through the utter wickedness is the sharp perfume of something other, a fresh breeze lined with citrus that must be a figment of your imagination because there is no scent like that in Hel, nor breeze in The Void. It simply is.

It must be Haven, you decide. You only recognize the heavens from stories trickled down through the rift of worlds, from picturesque stories and secrets in shadow.

You haven’t known anything other than Hel. You cannot recall your father, hardly any of your mother, nor how you ended up in the King’s care. All you remember from your earliest memories are the soothing tones of your mother when you were young and scared, calming you in her arms before you ended up with the King, and the gleaming bow you never go without.

Forged by a millennia-old weapons-master, you’d been gifted the very weapon you seek now. No one knows how it had gotten to her—not even the King himself—only that the exquisite piece had come from the best battlement blacksmith Hel had to offer. You were no older than eight, eyes rounded with wonder at the sight of the gleaming gold bow settled on your bed, matching quiver and arrows accompanying it.

You shove the thoughts away. Your heart leaps into your throat the longer you search for your weapon. The pain zipping up your body help to focus you, and the strain threatens to give out as your fingers finally find the familiar metal grip of your bow. You hold on tightly and drag it to you, feeling the weapon for signs of damage.

Your bow soothes you as you trace your fingers across the solid gold riser. You know this weapon better than you know yourself. You could be blind and know the inside outs of your beloved weapon, like you are now, vision clouded with black as your fingers slide down the string, taut and flexible as ever.

Once you’re satisfied with the condition of your bow, you attempt to rise. The thick robes you’re clothed in had broken none of the fall. They’re heavy against your body as you struggle to gain your footing, stretching your wings wide to balance. The fabric brushes against your wound and you bite back a yelp at the pain that burns through you like a wildfire.

You had thought that without parents or a family to lose there would be nothing for the King to hold over your head, to force you into his tricks and deals, for him to rip away for his enjoyment, but the wretched ruler always found a way. You clenched your teeth so hard that you thought they would crack as you were forced to your knees before him, glaring daggers up at the beautiful ruler while he only grinned like a wolf, licking over those sharpened canines like he was out for your blood. Again.

He hadn’t let you agree to the terms of your bargain until you screamed.

Shoving to your feet, you splay your arms wide for balance. The harsh ground offered no grip beneath your boots and the blackness does little to help you stay stable. You try to keep your breathing calm when it sharpens as you look around. There’s nothing but the darkness and yourself, not a pinprick of light to guide you nor a sound to be heard. Not even your own thick-soled shoes make noise as you test a step forward.

The silence doesn’t break and the prowling creatures that reside in The Void don’t stir. Beings of nightmares, you’d been told when you were only a child and before your mother was taken from you. Your imagination couldn’t be sated when you were young, always begging for more and more stories of the world outside of Hel, questioning why you weren’t allowed to go anywhere else.

You hated the fires and heat of Hel, always burning a spot in your mind or your skin. You craved more, to see the open sky instead of storming clouds of thick smoke that perpetually covered Hel in charcoal waves. You yearned to see the stars and the moon and the heavens of Haven, with their buttery sunrises and dreamy dusks.

Your mother’s face is a long-forgotten memory, but the stories she told are not. Tales of animals and creatures so large, fit with razor-sharp teeth and glowing eyes stalking around The Void, monstrosities that not even the King of Hel could conjure.

Okay, you remind yourself, shaking the worry from your head. It’s time to make a move.

You’re sitting prey if you don’t. The feathers are a familiar comfort brushing your fingertips as you reach over your shoulder, sliding a singular arrow from the quiver with ease. The gold tipped point sings as it’s unsheathed from its home at your back and you notch it in the bowstring with controlled practice. It’s a motion that keeps your hands from shaking and soothes your breathing, a warrior at the ready, should any of the nightmare’s attack.

As you move, you realize that making your way through the darkness is no easy feat. Not a sound to guide your way nor a flicker of a torch to assess your surroundings. There is only darkness and silence and it beats at you with each tentative step you take. Slow progress is still progress, you try to remind yourself, but you can’t help but feel as if you’re talking in circles, the maze of shadows spinning your sense of direction, offering no reprieve.

Even the scents of Hel and Haven have faded, though you feel better about the former washing from your senses. If only the perfumed scent of Haven remained—you’d gladly follow the trail right up to the heavens, King of Hel be damned.

It had once been a dream to see Haven in all of its glory…before you realized that there was no escaping Hel, no escaping the King and his sinful grins and wicked games.

A sound forces her to still, limbs locking up before you force yourself to steady your stance and take aim, squinting through the black. Your pointed ears perk as you listen intently, not daring even a shallow breath. A soft noise sounds, like a cloth brushing across glass. It’s fleeting, morphing all too quickly into a screeching, grating noise that reverberates in your bones. Talons. They. Sound so similar to those of the King’s hounds giving chase down the long halls of his palace that there is no doubt in your mind the creature stalking you could shred you limb from limb.

The noise ricochets against the hard ground of The Void, echoing off of the nothingness that surrounds you. It makes your head spin, torso twisting to follow the movement as you search desperately. For the source.

Standing frozen, boy taut as you strain to glimpse any sign of where the lurking creature may be, a barely recognizable purr accompanies the grinding claws. With the darkness of The Void swallowing all movement, it feels as if the noises are consuming you, echoing in all directions and baffling your sense further.

Glowing, white eyes blink open, startling you. Your heart skips a beat in your chest as you jump, tightening your grip on your weapon and swinging it in the direction of the lurking beast, the tip of your arrow aimed right between those bright eyes.

You don’t dare more, though the smart thing to do would be to release the sharp-tipped arrow the beast’s way, but the creature doesn’t move. It blinks slowly, sleepily at you with its gleaming eyes, staring at you as if it’s curious instead of the horrifying nightmare the King and others had warned you about.

You curse silently as it stands. You’re pinned by those unnervingly bright. Eyes as it bounds closer. A reflection of what you’ve heard the moon looks like lies within its stare, though you don’t think the creature has seen the luminous beacon in the sky either. In the low light reflecting from its gaze, you catch sight of the sharp teeth as the nightmare licks its maw, and the pointed talons that clack against the stone ground as it closes in on you.

You could run. You can turn around and spring through the darkness for your life, pray to Haven that you don’t trip over a worse dark-dwelling beast, but with the deep ache in your bones you know that you won’t make it far fast enough.

The King of Hel hadn’t been lying when he taunted you with how terrifying these beasts could be.

You wonder for a fleeting moment if the ruler of Hel even expected you to make it out of The Void.

Heart racing in your chest, for the first time since you’ve mastered your bow, your fingers tremble around the taut string. You can let lose an arrow between its glowing hot eyes. There’s no falter in your aim, even with the miniscule shake. If you will it, your arrow will strike true.

The prowling beast halts only meters from you. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest and the beast must be able to hear it beating against your golden breastplate from the way that it cocks its head and blinks up at you. It nearly reaches your chest and you swallow harshly, knowing that one wrong move will have the beast snapping at you. You hardly breathe as lips curl away from blade-sharp teeth that glint in the glow of its blinding eyes.

There are only a handful of seconds to decide your next move—to bare your own teeth and show the creature what you’re made of, firing the gold-tipped arrow, or stand down and hope that the predator does the same.

One breath, two, and you watch the creature lower itself onto its haunches. Your hands fall to your side in relief. The arrow is a surety in your grasp as you slowly sheath it back in place at your back. A surety that if the beast attacks, you’d be even more of a fool than the King ever claimed.

Following your movements with bright eyes, the growling of the beast falters, then quiets. It straightens, sitting taller, more menacing, and nearly meets your gaze straight on. It stares at you until your empty hand is back at your side, bargain mark throbbing as it brushes against your cloak.

You’re just as confused as the creature across from you, staring at each other like two sides of the same coin. It’s like you know the beast, seen it in your dreams or heard tales about it from your mother, but your mind is muggy, and you can’t grasp where the familiar feeling is from. You see yourself in its eyes, lost in the darkness with no light to guide you out.

As if the creature understands this, it dips its chin to study you.

Its breath is balmy against your throat and it sends shivers up your spine. Your lip’s part to gasp at the same time the creatures open to taste your scent, deciding if you’re a threat or not. The heaving breaths against your skin tickle, but there’s nothing funny about the way the creature stills, as if the raging beast wants to slash through your delicate flesh, to feel your hot blood sticky beneath its paws.

“Help me,” you dare whisper. It’s spoken as quietly as your voice allows, but the sound carries into the void as if you screamed it.

A howl answers that makes you flinch and itch to press your palms against her ears. It hadn’t come from the beast before you, who snuffs in response, its full row of teeth reappearing as its eyes narrow, staying tightly locked on you.

“Help me,” you plead, desperation clinging to your words. You need to get out of here, need to breathe the night air and see the real moon and feel its silvery rays upon your skin just once, you need to find somewhere safe so you can begin working towards what you came here for, why the bargain mark burns with every movement. Your freedom. It’s all you want from the King, from Hel, to be able to roam as you please, leaving the underworld to find something greater.

You want to remember something other than the harrowing sights of Hel, than the King’s sharp smile mocking you every time you close your eyes. The things he’s made you do, the things you’ve made yourself do. This cannot be the end.

You won’t let it be.

“I’m trying to find Velaris,” you continue when another yip joins the first. A hunting party, likely moving this way. The sounds are closer this time, but the darkness doesn’t allow you to gauge just how far they roam or how many there are. Your gaze sweeps around as if the soft light emitting from the beast’s eyes will allow you to see the others. The blackness leers in response, no longer the sinister silence but instead filled with a terrifying array of noises that will only enhance the harrowing nightmares that plague you. “I need to find the city.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle of your bow but the action does nothing to ease the worry eating at you.

Maybe it’s the raw despair in your tone or the glistening look in your eyes or the thunderous beating of your heart that makes the beast take pity on you.

Blinking up at you, the creature slinks closer, damp snout pressing into your hand. You hold back the flinch at the coldness of it, and it gives you a gentle nudge as if to say, ‘Why didn’t you say so?’

Releasing a sigh of relief, the beast allows you to press your hand to the top of its furry head as it leads you towards further darkness. The creature’s mane is soft and thick between your uneasy hold, leaving you to wonder if this being isn’t a menacing creature bred to hunt within The Void, but one that had been just as scared as you.

The howls of creatures around them die down as you’re lead through black. You don’t know if you should be breathing easier or harder when the noises die out completely, leaving your breathing and the clacking of the beasts claws against the stony ground as the only sounds as you walk.

Blinking, you are convinced your mind is playing tricks on you at first, as you begin making out different shapes. Black turns to a deep navy, then lighter until you can see silhouettes of trees and mountains beyond. The hard stone turns to soft earth laden with thick grasses reaching nearly to your knees.

The air is sharp, crisp with the oncoming scent of a storm. Your head snaps towards the sky, searching for a star, the moon, anything you can to ensure you’ve ended up in the correct place, but thick, rumbling clouds cover every inch of the star-smattered sky.

Disappointment floods your veins with ice. You’d been wishing to see for yourself since you were a child and your mother had spoken so highly of the bright splotch in the sky, and it has gnawed at you as you grew into the female you are now, proud and strong.

With a disheartened sigh, you turn to face the creature who’d been leading you through the darkness, only to find it gone. You hadn’t felt the beast slip from your grasp, entranced on the opportunity to see the beautiful night sky. It had disappeared on those stealthy paws, dipping from your hold and back into the swallowing darkness of The Void.

It looms behind you, an open, cavernous mouth that seems to creep slowly, consuming the trees and stars and sky. You wonder if it had somehow consumed the moon, if The Void is a living being all its own—a trap waiting patiently to devour what wanders into its well laid snare.

A shudder works its way up your spine as you stare. You know well that you will be back, when it is time to return to Hel with the King’s prize, and then and only then, will you have your freedom.

The word burns your skin just thinking about it. A time where you will be able to roam freely from the nightmares of Hel, doing as you please without the King there to loom and rule over you. The taste of the salty night breeze is only a tease of what you will soon have.

#azriel au #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azsazz tethered

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prythianslibrary · 17 hours

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This is @prythianpages. You can find my writing here. I made this little slide blog for all the fics I read & love so I can go back to them ❤️ I do tag all my posts so if you're looking for something particular, click on the links below:

Azriel | fluff | angst | smut | personal favs

Cassian | fluff | angst | smut | personal favs

Rhysand | fluff | angst | smut | personal favs (forgot to tag them lol)

Eris | fluff | angst | smut | personal favs

Lucien | fluff | angst | smut | personal favs

warning: I do reblog things from other fandoms from time to time.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #eris x reader #lucien x reader

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tadpolesonalgae · 22 hours

Text

Silk Pyjamas[*]

Azriel x reader

a/n: I want to get a nice pair of silk pyjamas so badly but they’re so hot in the summer 😫

warnings: smut

word count: 1,232

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“Az…”

“Azriel…”

“Az…!”

You squirm under the hotness of his palms as they press their shape into your skin, squeezing at your hips, grazing your waist, cupping your breasts as he pulls your comparatively soft body flush to his front. Your hands press into the crook of his elbows, spine curving into him, head tilted to the side as his tongue licks over the smooth skin of your neck, nipping just shy of your ear, lost in the small noises you’re making, the short, hushed breaths exhaling from your inviting lips, the soft swell of your breasts against his chest as you curve beneath his touch.

“Az…come on, we have an early morning tomorrow…” you try, lips helplessly curving at their corners as he presses ticklish kisses into your skin, swiftly turning hot and feverish, wet and open-mouthed as he moves lower, forearm banding around the curve of your spine, his body arching over you as his hips press to yours.

You inhale sharply when his thumb slips beneath the blue silk band of your pyjamas, matching the pair you’d bought for him: a deep blue top with sleeves down to your wrists, his with slats carefully cut into the back panel, trousers for each of you that come to your ankles, cut in a way that Azriel has mentioned show your hind off. And now his hand slides from your hips to squeeze at the swell of your ass appreciatively, sucking small marks into your throat as he guides you back to the bed.

It’s then he pulls away, and any serious fight you had left in you liquefies at the softness and hunger of his hazel eyes—bedroom eyes, if you’ve ever seen them. “Do you want to stop?” He asks quietly, hands pausing their exploration to settle on your hips, his fingers just beneath the silk of your top, able to feel the soft heat of your naked waist beneath.

You make the mistake of glancing down to his mouth, your pupils dilating as heat softens your body in his arms, your hands slowly making the trail up over his arms, feeling the swell of muscle beneath your fingertips, tracing up over his biceps, up over his broad shoulders, settling at the nape of his neck. Fingertips threading through silky, dark hair.

“No…” you mumble, inclining your jaw, lips parting as he sighs with arousal, mouth slanting hotly against your own, tongue plying you further apart so he can get inside of you, soft, wet noises being exchanged between your mouths, the bed pressing into the backs of your thighs. Your teeth nip at his lower lip before pulling away in favour of crawling onto the bed, but his hands firmly grip your hips, lifting you up off the floor—a casual display of effortless strength that has heat melting between your thighs.

“Az…” you urge softly, settling on your hands and knees in the centre of your bed, feeling as he prowls up behind you, crowding your space as his long, deft fingers hook beneath the band of your blue, silk trousers, pulling the elasticated band down over the curve of your ass, stopping when you’re uncovered, the elastic squeezing at your mid-thighs, far enough down for him to be given an arousing view of between your legs.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, almost to himself, and you flush from the praise, lowering yourself into the duvet so as to keep his attention on your ass, stuck invitingly in the air. “So good,” he murmurs to himself, feeling how wet you are as his hand wraps around your upper thigh, thumb sliding with ease through your heat, prodding with interest at your entrance.

“Az, come on…stop teasing,” you moan sweetly, shifting your hips with impatience. “You started this…” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, and you tighten around nothing, as if trying to suction his thumb further inside, but he pulls away, if only to lower the waistband of his own pyjamas to free himself.

“Alright, no teasing,” he replies, mirth clear in his deep voice, pressing closer to your soft body. Your teeth drag over your lower lip as he pushes his tip to your entrance, gliding through the wetness effortlessly, coating himself in your slick, before pushing in. You moan into the duvet, fingers crumpling the previously crisp and smooth sheets, toes curling as his hot palms pull back on your hips, guiding you together.

“You can…please…” you pant softly, spine curving from the pleasure, breasts pressing into the plush mattress, and you tilt your head into his shadows as they brush against your cheek, stroking your hair. “Please move…”

Azriel groans quietly, breathlessly, but acquiesces, gently pulling his hips back only to push in again, softly pushing you deeper into the mattress with each roll of his hips. Moans swiftly start spilling from your lips as he repeats the movements, pace increasing ever so slightly to become more regular, more languid movements that have your arms shaking from holding yourself up.

You feel so at home between his arms, with him filling you up so completely you can’t take it, arms giving out as you collapse down into the bed, allowing him to fuck you sideways. You cry out softly as he noses at your throat again, shadows pulling your hair out of his way so he can pull your scent deep into his lungs, infuse you with his body, increasing the pace to something more regular and familiar, his cock touching a spot inside you that has your toes curling, nipples peaking beneath the dark blue silk of your pyjamas.

As usual, his shadows don’t miss a thing, squeezing and palming at your breasts as they slip beneath your top, pinching and lightly flicking at your nipples, playing with them sweetly as he pushes more and more pleasure into you.

“Az…!” You cry out, the moan flying from your lips as a sign you’re on the edge, unable to help it—you want to call out his name when you cum; you like having it shaping your lips, how it feels in your mouth. “Az, Az…! I…I’m—!”

“Go on,” he urges softly, kissing up your throat, settling on a spot halfway down your neck, below your ear to focus on. “You deserve this…take it…fuck, there you go.”

Your breath catches as he rolls you over the edge, pleasure tingling in every part of your body as it bubbles and simmers beneath your skin, like being warmed by the summer’s sun. “Azriel…” you moan, fluttering around him as you reach your high, the pleasure practically doubling as you feel him breathe a sigh of relief, allowing himself to find his own release inside of you.

The high takes a while to fade, slowly drifting back down to this plane, panting deeply, warmed beneath the reassuring weight of his body, wings shuddering lightly where they’re splayed out over the bed. He pants softly against your neck, and you squirm from the ticklish sensation, wanting to shift to look at him.

The two of you smile, before mouths are opening again, pressing together and your fingers drag through his hair, gently stroking to keep him from pulling away before you’re okay with it.

There’s no need for that, though.

He doesn’t want to leave any more than you do.

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general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya @starlitlakes

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader smut #azriel smut #azriel fics #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fics smut

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melancholiaincarnate · 2 days

Text

so far so good

warnings - none

authors note - hi :P this is my first published acotar fic :3 i mentioned in a post a couple of days ago i wanted to start a series with ficlets about mated azriel x reader who happen to adopt a shadowsinger child named piper. here's the first installment :) i plan on making more so if you have requests for them send em in :D

"okay piper," azriel stretches, an action that causes a swirl in your stomach as his shirt lifts up slightly, revealing the hair decorating his tummy. "ready?"

"i'm ready!" she bounces on her feet, excitement visible on her face. shadows zip quickly around her - faster than you can blink. her shadows are impatient and easily excited, unlike azriel's, who prefer to wait and watch.

"remember, we're practicing winnowing. can you do that?" azriel cracks his knuckles and his wings shudder, then he disappears. he shortly reappears behind piper, and she squeals with delight. "i can't winnow so my winnowing looks a little different than yours but i promise - it's practically the same thing."

"yes! yes! i know! you told me! i can do it, azzy, i swear!" she shouts back at him, shadows twirling at her feet, "it's my turn!"

"alright, alright. it's your turn, pip." he smiles softly at her, crouching down to whisper something in her ear before she shuts her eyes so hard her whole face squishes.

"remember to envision where you want to go." his voice is soft in the child's ear. you watch as he smoothes down her hair as he stands to observe.

piper's body begins to slowly disappear but when she murmurs a "i'm doing it!" her body comes back into focus.

"you have to stay focused, pip." he reminds, giving her a nod. "focus is key."

"focus is key." her small voice repeats, and then suddenly she's at your side.

"hi! wait - woah- hi- hi! i did it! look, i was over there and now i'm over here!" you're sure you've never seen such delight on a single person's face before. "i did it! i did it, azzy i did it! look!"

"good job, piper." his voice is as stoic as ever but pride swims in his veins. azriel assumes that this is why cassian and rhys want children. the pure joy that sits in his chest right now has no match for anything he's ever experienced.

and yet, there's a clawing deep in his mind. it's in his chest, his bones, in the scars on his hand. he feels an attachment to this child - this girl that he and you found in the woods alone. this is not his daughter.

as piper runs off with you in tow, screaming about telling cassia, azriel glances at the scars on his hands. azriel could never think about hurting piper. it'd taken half of the inner court to restrain him from going to hunt down piper's attackers.

piper was not his daughter but he was his fathers son. anger rises through him - how could his father look at his own child and do what he'd done, when azriel could not fathom doing it to a child he had no part in creating?

shadows swarm in his ear chanting incomprehensible words to him. the anger is white and hot and it's so consuming that it sends a throng down the bond towards you.

in return, he feels you tugging the bond, tugging towards you, tugging him towards the light again. he breathes - he is not in that basement. "come, az." you whisper softly down the bond, "please."

and who is he to deny you? he unclenches his fists, steadying his breathing once more before tucking his wings and strolling away from the room as if he hadn't nearly fallen into a pit with no way out.

#acotar azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar

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invisible-lint · 2 days

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Not Quite Soulmates

AzrielxReader

Summary: Azriel introduces you to his family when your mating bond snaps... Just not with him

Warnings: light angst?

Word Count: 1.1k

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, trying to decide if you liked this dress better than the last one. You had been seeing Azriel for the better part of six months, and tonight you were going to meet his family for the first time. You smile, thinking back to when you had first met the Shadowsinger.

You had been at work, shelving books on the top shelf, when suddenly the ladder you were standing on broke and you fell. You had expected to hit the ground, only to be caught by Azriels strong arms instead. Despite that being like something out of a romance book, it had taken Azriel some time to get you to go on a date with him. It wasn't that you hadn't been attracted to him, you absolutely were. But you had been unlucky in love, and convinced yourself you were destined to be alone.

He would come into the store and ask for recommendations and then come back to talk about the book with you before asking for another recommendation. This went on for months before eventually you had asked him out when one of your coworkers had said she would if you didn't.

And now, six months later, you were so glad that you had. You couldn't imagine your life without him in it.

You're drawn out of your thoughts by arms wrapping around your waist and a kiss pressed to your shoulder.

"You look beautiful."

"Yeah? I wasn't sure if I should wear this dress or the purple one." He presses more kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. You smile, tilting your head to the side as he does.

"Definitely this one. I have a... Very fond memory of this dress." You laugh, knowing exactly what very fond memory he was thinking of. You had worn this dress to dinner before taking him to your bed for the first time.

"Keep it in your pants Azzie. We'll have plenty of time for that later tonight, after dinner."

He takes a step back, sighing, holding his hand out for you. You take it with a smile, and he leads you out the door.

It's a nice late summer evening, so the two of you walk to the River House. He stops you just outside the door, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's not too late to back out, we can always head back home and I can come up with an excuse."

You shake your head, laughing. "You have been putting this off for far too long already. Either you're nervous, or you're trying to get me naked."

"A bit of both." He admits.

"Well too bad, because we're going in. And you're going to have to deal with all of your favorite people ganging up to tease you." He laughs, shaking his head and leads you inside. The two of you head for the sitting room where everyone is mingling before dinner.

Azriel leads you around the room, introducing you to everyone as he does. You make eye contact with the long haired Illyrian you assume is Cassian, the brother Azriel has told you so much about. Azriel starts to lead you over to him and you freeze, eyes widening. A mating bond has snapped into place, but not with your boyfriend. No, it snapped into place with his brother. And going off the look on his face, it snapped for him too. You both curse at the same time, drawing attention from the rest of the room. Azriel looks at you, his expression asking what's wrong. You have two options. You can tell them what just happened, or you can run. You choose the latter, running out of the sitting room and down the hall, out the front door. You follow the Sidra, paying no attention to where you’re going.

You run until you trip over a rock, tumbling to the soggy ground next to the river. You lay there, looking at the stars, slowly starting to dance across the sky. Perhaps you could move courts, because you certainly couldn't continue to date Azriel. Not without rejecting the mating bond. And you can't stand the idea of living so close to your mate and not being with him. Yes. You'll move courts. As you lay on the river bank, imagining which court you'll move to and your new life there, Azriel lands nearby, calling out your name. You sit up and look at him, biting your lip. “Azzie… I…”

“I know. Cassian told us everything.” He sits next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and you lean against him.

“I guess this means we have to break up…”

“Because you want to be with him?”

“Because I would have to reject the bond to be with you. And you could never look at me the same way again knowing I'm the reason he's in so much pain.”

“And you want to be with him.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Every single romance book you recommend was about mates. Even the ones that weren't romances, if they happened to have a relationship, they were mates. You want a mating bond.”

“I don't want to hurt you.”

“It will take some time, but I'll be okay.”

You lean away so you can look up at him, but his face is blank, unreadable. You frown, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You hate when he does this, shoves all signs of emotion away, leaving you unable to tell what he's feeling.

“I don't want to lose you.”

“I don't want to lose you either. I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. Take some time to wrap your head around it if you need to, but you should get to know him before you make a decision.”

You nod. “I suppose I won't run away to the Summer Court then.”

“What?”

“Before you got here I was debating leaving for another court. I was thinking about the Summer Court.”

Azriel shakes his head. “Rhys and I had to talk Cass out of running away to Windhaven. The two of you are ridiculous.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “I think it's a perfectly reasonable reaction to the situation.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, standing and helping you up. “I'm taking you back before you can convince yourself running away is the best option again.” He picks you up, holding you in tight as he takes off, flying back to the River House, back to your mate, breaking his own heart.

A/N: I have plans for what's essentially a happier part 2 with Cassian and also I'm sorry I love Azriel and I want him to be happy but I haven't written anything happy for him yet oops. Feel free to send in requests! I won't be posting this week, but I will still be writing!

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

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daydreaming-nerd · 12 hours

Text

I’ll Crawl Home To Her (Azriel x Reader)

AN: This was supposed to be based off But Daddy I Love Him but it morphed into something else but I'm kinda happy about it.

Summary: The story of how the princess of Velaris and the shadowsinger came to be.

Warnings: blood, injury, dickhead dads, bit of smut but it's not too descriptive (It's for the plot), angst, fluffy ending.

Word count: 8053

As a princess I was told that “hate” is a very strong word. Consequently, there weren’t a lot of things that I hated. For example, I greatly disliked when my tea came with too much milk, and I absolutely despised corsets. But if there was one thing I hated, and I mean truly hated, it was my father.

If it wasn’t for the way he treated my mother and older brother then it would be the way he treated me. How he kept me from my beloved, my brother's best friend, the shadowsinger, my Azriel.

Azriel had been mine long before my father ever knew about it. When I grew to be 207 my mother finally convinced my father to let me go to Windhaven with her to visit Rhys. I hadn’t seen my brother in years, as he had begun training with the Illyrians.

He wrote me letters of course, detailing friends and enemies he made along the way. Two of which stood out to me, Cassian and Azriel. However these letters never made up for him in the flesh, which is why during my first trip to Windhaven I had never been so excited. To this day I still remember it…

The winter wind stung my cheeks as snow clung to the furs of my cloak. It was as if no matter how many layers I wore the wind found its way to barrel through and nip at my skin.

I found myself walking along the edge of the camp, where the light of the fires couldn't reach me and only the moon gave me the ability to see. When my mother and I arrived at the little cabin Rhys was not there, after speaking to Devlon we found he was on assignment and would be home soon.

After a few hours in the cabin I began to feel claustrophobic, so I took a walk around the heavily wooded area. There was something magic about the first snow of the season. The way the snow covered the ground and crunched under my boots. White capped trees that looked like they were frosted by the gods, and the still silence that came from the insulation the blanket of white provided.

“It’s a little cold out don’t you-” a voice crooned behind me and stopped abruptly as I turned to face him.

Standing frozen just a few feet from me was an Illyrian male with his mouth agape at the sight of me. He was large, his wings the biggest I had ever seen. Inky black hair framed his carved face as his hazel eyes frozen in shock as if he had just seen a ghost.

“Forgive me,” he said, shaking his head a bit, as if to clear the fog from his mind. “It’s just that I don’t see many beautiful things up here, you startled me.”

My cheeks flush and I pray he thinks it's from the cold and not the butterflies in my stomach.

“I find that hard to believe when this is your view,” I smile, gesturing to the snow valley below us. “There’s nothing more beautiful than the first snowfall of the year.”

Footsteps crunch behind me as he comes up on my right, “Perhaps, but it pales in comparison to you,” he smirks and this time I know he can tell he’s the reason my cheeks are pink. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?”

I turn to meet his gaze once more but before I can answer back I hear a shout coming from far away.

“Y/N!” my brother shouts charging towards me.

“Rhys!” I call back running into his embrace.

He lets out a groan as I leap into his arms, a pile of furs and wool as I pull him into me. The scent of sea salt and citrus filling my nose, the warmth of him seeping through my clothes.

“Ahh little sister I’ve missed you,” Rhys says, setting me down to get a good look at me.

“Little sister?” called the male behind me, his snow crunching footsteps coming towards Rhysand and I’s side.

“It seems you’ve already met her, this is my little sister, y/n.”Rhys beams, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Y/n this is my very good friend, Azriel.”

“Azriel,” I blink, holding out my hand for the shadowsinger to shake. How had I not realized? Rhysand’s letters spoke of his shadowsinger friend, now that I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him, I could see the dark matter swirling around him.

“Princess,” he says, bowing his head and pressing a kiss to my hand. “It is an honor to meet you. You’ll have to forgive my previous informality, I didn’t know who you were.”

Rhysand let out a hearty laugh behind me, “Azriel my friend there is no need for such formalities, in fact my sister detests them.” he smiles.

“It’s true, you can just call me y/n, I’m sure that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come.” I smile hoping I was speaking the truth into existence.

“Come, mother has made dinner for all of us and you have yet to meet Cassian,” Rhys said enthusiastically, throwing an arm over my shoulder.

From that day forward I found myself spending more and more time at Windhaven, in hopes of seeing Azriel. Sometimes I would see him for only a minute or so, other times he would be able to stay and have dinner with my mother, myself and of course Rhys and Cass.

Those were always my favorite nights when he and I would share stolen glances across the table. Sometimes we might brush hands reaching for the carafe of wine, other times I would feel his boot brush my ankle under the table. Both of us danced around the other like flickering flames.

It wasn’t until a few years later when all three of them conquered the blood rite that Azriel and I were finally able to admit our feelings for one another…

We stood behind one of the many rows of cabins, the sound of laughing warriors celebrating their victories or mourning their losses ran through the camp. Before he even spoke I knew why he asked me to meet him back here, I could feel the tension between us both.

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care about you. I’m tired of saying “nothing” whenever Rhys and Cassian ask me what’s on my mind. I’m tired of trying to hide that everytime I come back to camp that I’m looking for you and hoping I can see you for just one second. I’m tired of pretending I don’t love you,” Azriel confesses, caging me against the back wall of a cabin.

“Azriel I-” I begin but he cuts me off.

“When we were on the mountain, there was a moment where there was a dagger to my throat and I thought I was going to die. I thought I would leave this world without telling you how much I loved you. If it wasn’t for Cassian that would’ve been the case. I won’t make the same mistakes twice,” he finished.

“Azriel, I love you too,” I shuddered a sigh, aware of how close he was to me.

The second the words left my mouth he was on me, large hands encircling my waist as I felt every inch of his body pressed against mine. His breath was hot on my face, contrasting the bitter cold of the night air.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed, lips mere inches from mine.

“Please,” I begged, but once again the word hung in the air for mere seconds before his mouth was on mine.

Every part of it felt so right. His hands on my waist, my fingers in his hair, his lips on mine claiming me in a way that made my head spin. My arms pulled him as close as possible, needing to feel him, smell that scent of rain, leather and whatever intoxicating cologne he was wearing. I was so drunk on him that I was shaken when I heard a hearty laugh ring out through the camp.

I pulled back immediately realizing what was happening, “Oh my gods, we can’t do this here, my brother he-”

“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “I talked to Rhys about it, I have his blessing to court you. He took it rather well, he actually seemed excited.” Azriel laughed, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he held me closer, his body blocking the wind from seeping into my clothes.

“Oh Azriel,” I smile, kissing him hard as I feel him lifting me into the air, my head spinning just as fast as he spun me.

We spent the rest of that night lying on a blanket in a field away from the world. The sound of distant celebrations making us laugh every now and then. At some point I could’ve sworn I heard Cassian singing a tale of an old drunk warrior.

I had tried to tell Azriel that he should join his brothers in their celebration but he insisted that he would much rather spend his few moments of peace with me. It was one of the best nights of my life.

Our relationship was kept secret from everyone but Rhys and Cassian. Even my mother, who always accompanied me to Windhaven, was kept in the dark. No one with close ties to my father could know. That being said, it was hard for Azriel and I to find quiet moments together.

Most of the time we met in the woods behind camp. Azriel would go away and bring me little trinkets, pretty rocks and feathers he found while in the mountains. In the spring he always came with a freshly picked bouquet of wildflowers. We always ended up making out and getting carried away, on more than one occasion I tried to take things further but he never let me.

“I won’t have the first time I bed you in the woods. You’re a princess, you deserve a soft bed to be worshiped on.”

Was what he always said to me. While I appreciated the sentiment, I couldn’t help but wish for more.

It wasn’t until a few months later that I finally saw an opening. Father and mother were going to be at a meeting in the Winter Court, leaving Velaris in the care of Rhys. More importantly the cabin at Windhaven would be empty. That night was truly the best night of my life.

My back hits the warm sheets below me as Azriel looks at my bare body with hungry eyes. I had never been with a male before, my father and mother dead set on having me intact for whatever husband they shackled me to. But Azriel would be my husband, even if he wasn’t noble or the son of a High Lord he was mine, and I was his. I didn’t care how many rules I had to break to have him.

“My beautiful, beautiful princess,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to my neck.

His hands wander the expanse of my bare skin, both warming and leaving goosebumps wherever they trail. I arch my back into him, needing more, needing the very essence of him branded into me.

“Azriel I need more,” I breathe tugging on the ends of his hair.

He had already stripped me bare and kissed every square inch of me before falling to his knees and feasting on me like I was his last meal. I had read about such sinful touches before, dreamt about experiencing those sensations with him at night. None of it compared to the real thing.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks me once more, brushing the hair from my face.

“I’m sure, I want it to be you,” I nod running my hands through his hair again.

The wild twinkle in his eyes was enough to make my toes curl as he smiled at me, “I promise to be gentle, to make you feel good,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my lips.

“I trust you Az,” I nod and his lips kick up again at his nickname.

I feel him nudge and my entrance and my breath hitches as he inches himself inside. The stretch was painful, but the sting faded as he peppered kisses all over my face, whispering sweet nothings to me.

“Shh you’re doing so well princess…”

“You’re so beautiful…”

“Can you feel me? Can you feel us?”

“I love you…”

I must’ve seen stars a million times that night. His gentle nature only made me fall deeper in love with him. It wasn’t the brutal fucking I had heard about in taverns and from drunk men at balls. He had taken his time, and been even more gentle than he had promised me.

We made love a dozen times that night. Kissed and touched and worshiped until I fell asleep, bathed and warm in his arms.

The next morning was hard to face. Knowing we had to leave the cabin and act as if we didn’t spend the entire night exchanging souls, and tangled in eachothers arms.

Az especially was on edge, so much so that when a younger male offered to tie my boot for me Azriel marched over and pushed him into the mud before pulling my foot onto his bent knee and tying it himself.

Of course I yelled at him for being an Illyrian baby while Rhys and Cassian laughed and poked fun at their friend. Azriel just huffed and shot a warning glance at the poor male who had tried to tie my boot.

From there on out we spent every possible moment together. I would tell my father that I was visiting friends in other courts just so I could see Azriel, which wasn’t often. As the war between humans and fae grew more iminanent I saw less and less of the shadowsinger. Our meetings became more fervent, and well…passionate. We became careless and it’s what ended up tearing him away from me for good.

My back was pressed against the cabin wall, my hands pinned by my head as Azriel’s lips consumed mine. We had no longer than an hour together before he would be set back to scout for Hybern’s troops, but we intended to make the most of it.

“I missed you,” he breathed into my neck.

“I missed you too, two weeks is too long,” I murmured, breathing in his scent. He always left me one of his many shirts to sleep in but it never did compare to the real thing.

“I don’t have much time, they’re sending me to the border to scout for Hybern’s troops,” he says in between kisses.

Scarred hands drift over my waist and graze my bum as I feel him collecting fist fulls of my skirt. Before my dress can be pushed up much further than my knees the door to the cabin barges open, startling both of us. Azriel placed his hand on one of the daggers strapped to his side, but not even he could defend me from who stepped through the threshold.

“What the hells is going on here?” My father’s voice boomed from the doorway, the cold air from outside seeping into the place that was once our own.

I peek out from behind Azriel’s shoulder to find not only my father but Lord Devlon standing before us. My fathers eyes locked on mine, and white hot fear seared my nerves.

“What are you doing with my daughter?!” My father roared, his power slamming Azriel aside.

“Father no!” I scream, clinging to his arm to interrupt his antics.

Devlon screamed for backup to come as Azriel’s feet hit the floor again. The commotion outside beginning to stir.

“My lord, I-” Azriel starts to explain but my father cuts him off.

“You will not speak unless spoken to, you bastard born brute!” my father screams as Devlon’s men come to detain the Shadowsinger.

“Father stop it! He didn’t take advantage of me, we’ve been seeing each other.” I plead with my father as tears start to well up in my eyes.

“What?!” he scoffed, looking at me like I was a common whore. “You are promised to one of the sons of Spring and yet you soil yourself with filth of his kind?”

“He’s not filth. He’s Rhys’ friend, and he’s good, brave and kind.” I beseech him as I hear Azriel struggle against the men who have him bound.

My father takes a deep breath and turns his gaze from me. The sound of his boots crossing the wooden floors to stand before Azriel are the loudest most impending sound I had ever heard. He stands before my shadowsinger before raising his hand and letting his fist collide with that beautiful face I had spent so long kissing.

My gasp reverberates through the room but Azriel doesn’t make a sound, as if he’s challenging my father, or proving his worth.

“What should we do with him?” my father asks, not taking his eyes off Az.

“The boy has completed the rite, we can send him to one of the battalions on the border. Perhaps the trash will take itself out,” Devlon laughs. I had known that the Lord had a chip on his shoulder for my brother and his friends. But sending him to the slaughter?

“Father please I love him!” I cry falling to my knees before my father, grasping his hand. I would never beg my father for anything, never fall to my knees for anyone. But for this I would… for Azriel, I would die on my knees.

Despite my pleading my fathers gaze never falters from where it is fixed on Azriel. As if he’s trying to decide if he should slit his throat now or let him die on a battlefield. Azriel’s face remains steadfast and strong, showing no signs of weakness, like he will accept whatever punishment befalls him with the grace of a warrior.

“Send him,” he says resolutely before turning away.

“NO PLEASE!” I beseech as my father hauls me to my feets again, but my knees are giving out under me.

“It is done,” his gruff voice says in my ear as I watch them haul Azriel to his feet. “One day you’ll thank me.”

I watch as they pull Azriel toward the door. Dragging him unnecessarily letting his wings drape across the ground. It was all happening so fast and could be the last time I ever saw his face.

“Let me say goodbye! Please let me say goodbye!” I shouted thrashing in my fathers grasp. Needing to touch Az one last time, needing one more moment with him.

Azriel’s eyes were frantic as he heard my screams, as he watched my father use his strength to detain me.

“Listen! Listen!” he called trying to get me to stop my frantic blubbering, the guards pulling him out the door. “You have to be strong princess. I love you , and I will find you again, if not in this life than in the next!” he shouts as he is hauled past the threshold of the cabin.

“Azriel!” I scream, my voice cracking under the weight of my tears.

“I love you!” he shouts again from the outside of the cabin.

“I love you!” I call back to him, not knowing if I’ll ever get another chance to say it.

That was six months ago...

Since then the war had gotten more and more bloody, and unavoidable. As far as I knew Azriel was still alive. I hadn’t seen him since the night he was ripped from my arms, a night I often had nightmares about. I sent him letters whenever possible and every so often I would get one back.

I could tell he had tried to send more, as every date on the ones that did make it through were skewed. The most recent one, dated two months ago, burned a hole in the pocket of my dress. The folds were so worn from reading that I feared they may fall apart the next time I opened it.

My love,

I am alive and well, though my battalion has suffered great losses. More and more Illyrians are sent to the frontlines every day to take the place of the dead. There are times I wonder if a wide eyed recruit will ever take my place…

At night I lie in bed and dream of you lying next to me, your warmth. Or the way your hair looks sprawled in swirling over the green grass when you’re under me. The sound of your voice calling my attention. The softness of your hands. The night you came undone for me in the cabin.

My only consolation is that when I look up at the night sky. I know you are looking at those same stars. And if what I’m doing is keeping you safe. Keeping you fed and swathed in those blue silks that drive me crazy. Then I will sleep in this tent and fight alongside my peers happily. My love is safe and warm because of me.

I love you, and I will return to you.

Yours eternally,

Azriel

I fold the tattered parchment with gloved hands and tuck it securely into the pocket of my dress. The shouts of men and the clash of swords outside my tent drown out the peace I had struggled to preserve.

Hybern’s army had marched on Velaris and while the border hadn’t been breached, my father decided it was unsafe to leave my mother and I there. My mother was sent to a camp with my father where he would watch over her, I was sent to Rhys’ camp.

The flap of the tent is thrown open, my brother charges in wearing his leathers, his hair disheveled and a letter in hand.

“What is it?” I stand upon seeing the worry gracing his face.

Armies had been marching upon another camp a few miles away. If they had breached the encampment that would mean they were coming for us next. We would have just minutes to evacuate and find a safe place.

“The men were able to hold the front lines,” he says, setting down his swords with a sigh that told me that there was still news to be revealed.

“Then what is it?” I asked quietly, unsure of whether or not I wanted to know the truth he had to say.

Violet eyes met my own, in them, a sorrow and worry I had not yet seen from my brother, “It’s Azriel.” he said.

My heart stopped and my world quieted as I perched myself on a nearby chair, not trusting my legs to keep me upright. Not when my heart lay in the balance, the very reason I was alive.

“He was injured, severely. He may be dying y/n.” he said sadly, coming to stand before me.

May be dying. Which meant he was alive, which meant there was still a chance.

My head snaps up to him, a new fire in my gaze that no one had seen in six months.

“Take me to him,” I ordered my brother as I stood to collect my cloak.

“You’re asking me to take you, my sister, to the front lines. I won’t do it.” Rhys shakes his head.

“I am going with or without you Rhys,” I say firmly, wrapping my cloak around my shoulders.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before picking his swords up again and strapping them to his sides. With my hood over my head and my brother's hand at my back we made our way out into the night. Once we reached the wards at the edge of the camp we winnowed to the encampment near the frontlines.

Immediately as we walked through the rows of tents and campfires I could tell that these males had seen hell. All of them looked significantly worse than the males at the camp we had just come from. Most of them were caked in mud and blood, some were drunk on whatever filled their cups. All of them were loud and rowdy and most likely celebrating their last nights in this life.

Rhys led me through the camp, until we arrived at a lonely tent in the center. It was large and from the outside I could practically smell Azriel. I bolted for the entrance and threw open the flaps, my heart racing, unsure if I would find him alive or dead.

But there he was, breathing. Leaning against the back of his bed with a large bandage over his left thigh. He was awake and refreshingly himself, as if nothing was truly wrong and most importantly he was alive.

I run to him throwing my arms around his neck, “Oh Azriel,” I coo breathing him in.

“Y/n?” he says, his mind clearly still foggy.

I pull back to cup his face, whoever had healed him has cleaned him up, the small cut above his eyebrow already starting to heal, “Az,” I breathe.

His hand comes to cup my face, “How are you here? This can’t be real,” his eyes search my face as if to try and wake up from a dream.

I place a kiss on his lips, “I’m real, I’m here,” I assure him as tears spill from my eyes. “They told me you were dying.”

“I am well, it was a deep cut but the healers say I’ll be okay,” he assures me as his eyes continue to take me in.

I let my eyes do the same, taking in every cut and bruise on him, even the patched holes in his wings no doubt from arrows piercing the beautiful, leathery flesh.

“Faebane?” Rhys’ voice croons from the entrance of the tent as he watches us, it seemed that his nerves were also settled upon seeing Azriel well.

“Yep,” Azriel said nonchalantly, but his eyes told the truth of how happy he was to see my brother, or maybe how relieved.

“Hurts like a bitch doesn’t it?” Rhys chuckles stepping into the tent and closing the flap.

My eyes widened at his causal tone, “How can you both be so docile about this? He could’ve died.” I exclaim, looking Azriel over once more in case I missed any lingering wounds.

Azriel's chest rumbles with a chuckle, “Shhh my love. Everything will be alright.” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But what are you doing here? It isn’t safe.”

“The border of Velaris is almost breached,” Rhys started from behind me. “We couldn’t leave her and my mother there, it wasn’t safe.”

“Mother is with father and I’m with Rhys. We found out you were injured and just a camp away and I asked him to take me to you.” I continue Rhys’ explanation.

Azriel cuts Rhys a somewhat harsh look as if to say ‘why the hell would you take her somewhere so dangerous?’

“You needed to see each other,” Rhys explains further. “If anything were to happen to you and I didn’t let you two say goodbye, I would never forgive myself.”

Azriel’s shoulders softened in understanding before turning to me once more, “You have to go princess,” he said, eyes full of sorrow.

My breath hitches as I stumble back a little from where I sit next to him, “What? No, I won’t leave you,” I say resolutely.

He cups the side of my face, “Please it’s not safe here,” he eyes pleading as his voice falters.

I go to argue but Rhys speaks up behind me, “He’s right y/n, It’s the most vulnerable camp we have.” my brother says, his words solemn.

“I don’t care!” I exclaim turning back to brush Azriel’s hair from his face. “I’m not leaving him Rhys, we will be okay.”

Azriel’s eyes flare, “Look at me!” he shouts gesturing to his leg. “I can’t protect you here,” his voice is laced with frustration, not at my unwillingness to leave, but his inability to do the one thing he swore to always do, protect me.

“Then I’ll die here with you!” I proclaim, fiercely. “If you cannot protect me, then you cannot protect yourself. Please Azriel, please don’t make me leave.” I cry lying down on his chest, gripping the leathers there, as if it might keep my brother from ripping me away.

“I can’t,” I sob as my words get caught in my throat. “I can’t lose you again I-”

“Shhh,” Azriel coos, his hand stroking my hair as he pulls me into his chest. “You’ll stay here in my arms.” he assures me and I’m finally able to relax into his touch.

“Y/n, I can’t stay here. I need to go back to my own troops and prepare them for tomorrow,” my brother said softly, not trying to persuade me to return, but to inform me of the increasing danger.

“I understand,” I say standing to say goodbye.

“I’ll come back for you tomorrow morning, before the troops march,” he said, his words tinged with sorrow.

I take in the sight of my brother looking defeated, a look I so rarely saw on him. It broke me to realize I might never see him after this. If the enemy marched on this camp there would be no one to keep Azriel and I from the slaughter given his injury.

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I threw myself onto my beloved brother.

Rhys said his goodbyes to Azriel, both of them not wanting to get too deep, say too much, for fear of manifesting defeat on both sides. When my brother exited the tent I took my spot next to Azriel on his large cot and waited for either death or the sunrise.

Later in the night, the raucous from outside got louder and louder disturbing my sleep. When I raised my head from Azriel’s chest I found that his eyes remained open and fixed on the tent entrance, like he was ready to challenge anyone who dared to walk through despite his inability to walk.

“Hey,” I smiled weakly, my voice shaky from sleep.

“Hey,” he smiled back, pushing a hair from my face.

I moved back the blanket to check the gash in his thigh. Lifting the white bandage, I could see that it was almost completely soaked through, if I left it that way he would never get better.

I throw my legs over the edge of the cot and search for my discarded cloak, “You need fresh bandages or you’ll get an infection. I’m going to go get you some.”

“Y/n don’t you dare leave this tent. There are war bound men out there looking for one last lay before they leave this world,” he pleads, reaching for my hand that’s just out of reach.

“I’ll only be a moment Az,” I assure him before raising my hood and slipping out of the tent.

I can hear him shouting my name as I exit, but his protests are quickly drowned out by the sound of drunken men. Azriel was right, these men were drunk and not in their right mind. But if that wound got infected and he died I would never forgive myself. So I kept my head down walking towards the medic tent I passed on my way in, ignoring rambunctious cheers and stumbling men.

The light of the medic tent comes into view and relief washes over me swiftly before the rug is pulled out from under me and I run smack into a broad chest.

“Well what do we have here?” laughs a drunken male. I can smell the sweat and alcohol on him.

“Looks like we have a little birdy who lost her way,” laughs a male from my right.

My feet take two steps back before bumping into another mountain of a male. His hand comes up to rip the hood off my head, if all three of them recognized me as their princess they didn’t show it. My pulse began to race as I frantically looked for a way out of this hell.

“What’s a beauty like you doing out here?” crooned the male behind me.

I put on a stoic face, “I’m leaving if you’ll excuse me,” I state, but before I can even take my first step I feel large hands grasping my shoulders holding me in place.

“Whoever bought you for the night must’ve paid a pretty penny,” jested the man to my right.

“What do ya say darlin? Are you gonna give these brave men a proper send off?” the man behind me says low into my ear as he grabs me around the middle, plucking me off the ground.

I start kicking trying to break free, my screamed muffled by his hand over my mouth. All the trashing in the world wasn’t enough to break their hold as the other two males descended upon me, as if they were willing to take me right there in the middle of camp.

“I’ll thank you to take your hands off my princess,” drawled a voice from behind me.

The eyes of the three men surrounding me went wide at whatever figure stood behind us, all three of them scurrying off to gods knew where. I turn slowly to face whoever my rescuer was, and I’m met with a mountain of sheer muscle and bright red siphons.

“Cassian!” I cried running to throw my arms around the burly warrior, I hadn’t seen him in over a year.

He hugs me tighter, the kind of bear hug only he could provide. It was clear to me that he missed me just as much as I had missed him. When he releases me he bends down to cup my face, and wipe away the tears I didn’t know had fallen.

“Princess, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“Rhys brought me here but he’s gone now, he’s gone back to his own camp but he’ll be back tomorrow,” I say as Cassian continues to wipe away the fresh tears, this time tears of happiness and not fear.

Cassain stands up as if to assess for danger before tossing an arm around me, “Stay with me, I’ll keep you safe. Where is Azriel? I was told he was injured,” he asks, remaining vigilant.

“He’s okay, I was just getting him fresh bandages,” I report, pointing Cassian towards the medic tent.

“He let you leave his tent?!” he balks corralling me inside the tent.

“Uh, no. Not really,” I laugh nervously.

He rolls his eyes and grabs a few armfuls of bandages before shoving them into my arms. We weave through drunken men who do a good job of staying at least three feet away from me, no doubt seeing The Lord of Bloodshed trailing me.

I throw open the flap of Azriel’s tent, running to his side at once.

“Oh thank the mother,” he sighs in relief upon seeing me.

I laugh at his fussing and begin dressing his wound, “Look who I found,” I say nodding my head to where Cassian stands behind me.

“I believe I found you,” Cassian corrects me, sheer amusement in his voice.

“Cass!” Azriel beams as his brother gives him an affectionate smack on the shoulder.

“Brother you look a little worse for wear,” Cassian chuckles looking at the wound I was currently cleaning.

“I’ve been better,” Azriel winces as I wrap the wound in a clean bandage.

“I heard what happened and came as soon as I could. Ran right into your princess here, causing trouble as usual,” the warrior chortles beside me making me roll my eyes.

“What?” Azriel asked, more alert than he previously was.

“You were right, the men out there are assholes,” I scoff, tying off the fresh bandage.

“Did they touch you?” he inquired, his eyes ablaze.

“Az it’s fine Cass was there,” I assure him placing a hand on his shoulder feeling the palpable tension there, like he was ready to pounce.

“Y/n did they put their hands on you?” he asks again, this time more unyielding than before.

“Yes but look at me, I'm fine!” I say with an exasperated sigh.

Azriel’s eyes flit to Cassian as he extends his hand to his brother, like he needs support.

“Cassian help me up,” he orders, already scooting to the edge of the cot.

“Azriel don’t you dare!” I shout smacking his chest. “Enough with the territorial, Illyrian nonsense! You’re injured, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

The shadowsingers body slumps back into bed in defeat with a huff, clearly upset he couldn’t pummel the shit out of a couple of lowly males who weren’t worth it in the first place.

Cassian’s chuckle reverberated through the tent, “Good to see you two picking up right where you left off,” he joked, remembering all the times we had similar quarrels.

It was the early hours of morning, and while the sun was still hiding behind the mountains, it would be rearing its ugly head soon enough. The partying and cheering from outside the tent had died down. Men either passing out drunk or choosing sleep over thoughts of what might happen tomorrow.

Cassian snored softly in the corner of the tent in the chair he took up. He had elected to stay behind and watch over us at Azriel’s request and I was smart enough to not argue with two Illyrians.

I layed on Azriel’s chest, waiting for sleep to claim me but it never came. Sleep didn’t find Azriel as well, his hand twirling through the strands of my unbound hair as we sat in silence.

“You know what kept me alive out there on that battlefield after I was injured?” Azriel whispered into the night.

“A healer that I’ll be paying a very handsome bonus to?” I laugh squeezing my arms around him a bit.

“No, you” he said seriously rubbing my shoulder

“Me?” I gawk, sitting up so I could look him in the eye.

“Yes, you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “When I was downed they thought I was dead. Horses and men clamored over me. It was all so loud, such a blur but then I closed my eyes and there you were.” he said looking at the canopy of the tent, as if remembering the event.

“It was a memory from the first time I saw you, before I even knew who you were. You were standing in the snow waiting for Rhys and your mother and there was snow all over your hair. It was the first snow of the year and you were entranced just like you always are.” He chuckles, pulling me closer. “But I knew then and there that I had to open my eyes. Had to get up. Even if it was just to see your face one more time, kiss your lips, tell you I love you. I woke up in this tent reeling from it. I could’ve sworn you were here, in the vision I felt your touch. And then hours later you storm in here with your fussing and worrying.” he says.

I feel a tear roll down my face as I cup his face, pulling his gaze from the canopy to me. I pulled his letter out of my dress pocket, the paper flopping about from how many times it had been folded and unfolded.

“I kept this letter with me every single day. I must’ve read it a hundred times, hells I might even have it memorized.” I laugh, shaking the paper in my hands. “I never once gave up hope that I would see you again. No matter what happens after tonight I still won’t give up hope. I know I’ll find you again.”

Azriel chuckles, pressing his forehead to mine, “I’d crawl home to you if I had to princess,” he says resolutely.

I wake the next morning to the sound of men moving about outside the tent and an empty cot. The covers before me are still disheveled from where Azriel slipped out from under me. I threw the blankets off the bed and pulled my cloak from where I set it last night, fastening it to my shoulders.

When I toss open the flaps of the tent I’m momentarily blinded by the bright sun before the sight of men collecting their weapons and armor come into focus. My eyes darted frantically for a trace of Azriel, surely he couldn’t have gone far, surely he wasn’t going to fight today.

“Azriel!” I call out roaming around looking for a flash of a blue siphon.

Heavy footsteps come up behind me grabbing my arm and I turn around to be met with Cassian. I looked back to the tent and realized he had been keeping watch outside.

“Cass, where is he?” I ask him, but all I’m met with is a heavy gaze from Cassian.

“Y/n?” calls a voice from behind me and I turn to see my father, mother and brother walking towards us.

My mother runs over to me taking me into her arms and holding me close. It was clear to me that they had found Rhys and instantly questioned why I wasn’t under his care.

“Thank the gods,” my mother breathed taking in my unharmed appearance.

“You smell like that Illyrian brute,” my father sneered and I knew right away he ment Azriel.

“He could have been dying,” I reply with equal venom, my gaze narrowing at the man who went through such great lengths to keep us apart.

“Of course, why do you think I sent him to the frontlines again today?” he scoffed, already turning his attention to the hordes of men preparing for battle.

My blood turned to ice in my veins and my heart plummeted.

“What?” I cried looking at Rhys who wore a solemn look on his face. “Rhys, you knew?”

My brother lets out a shaky breath, “I knew before we even arrived last night. When he tried to get you to leave I used daemati to tell him he was being sent to the front lines. He knew it would be the last time he ever saw you.” he confessed.

He knew.

Haste clouds my mind and I turn to run in the same direction with the rest of the men, my father and brother joining their ranks without another word. My mother catches me around the shoulders and pulls me into her embrace as my knees hit the muddy ground beneath us.

“No, no, no, no no!” I scream trying to run to the front, as if I could keep Azriel from death myself.

“The battle is not yet over sweetheart, he may still live,” My mother coos stroking my hair.

“He was injured mother,” my words come out as sobs as I cling to her cloak.

“Have faith,” she pleads, kneeling on the ground with me, trying to calm me as best she can.

“Azriel,” I cry. “My Azriel.”

I give into my mothers embrace and after a while she ushers me toward a tent. She wipes my face with a cool towel trying to calm my swollen eyes, but it’s no use. Every war cry, and ear rupturing blast feels like the one that takes Azriel’s life. Each one sends me back into a mess of shallow breaths and tears.

Only when the battle cries fade, and the blasts of siphons and raw power cease do my tears stop. Soldiers and Illyrains come filtering back to the camp, some whole, some being carried by their peers. My brother and Cassain are the first to find us. Rhys was unharmed, but Cassian was wheeled to a healer immediately. Thankfully, she claimed he would be alright.

I took to the masses, weaving through men making their way back occasionally running into some as my eyes were focused on the skies. Searching amongst the hordes of Illyrians flying in. If Azriel was anywhere it would be there.

“Azriel!” I shouted, my voice going hoarse from the screaming I had been doing.

More and more Illyrians fly overhead, not one of them resembling my Azriel. If he was amongst them he would see me standing out like a sore thumb amongst the rabble, going against the grain of everyone before me.

“AZRIEL!” I call out even louder, cupping my hands around my mouth as if it will help.

“Y/N!”

I hear my voice being called, not from the skies, but from the ground. My eyes snap to the crowds before me before I see a pair of wings over the top of a million heads.

“AZRIEL?!” I call out moving in the direction of the voice that called to me.

Then I see him, my Azriel. The wound on his leg is split open and his wings are pierced with a dozen arrows which explains his inability to fly. But he’s there, and he’s whole, and alive.

“Y/n!” he calls out to me again.

I pick up the skirts of my dress running to him, my shoulders bumping into all the men I weave around. I jump into his arms feeling him pick me up, pulling me impossibly close.

“Oh Az,” I breathe running a hand through his hair as my feet hit the ground again, his eyes assessing me for any injury. “My love, I thought I would never see you again,” I cried.

His thumbs wipe away my tears as he cups my face, “Death, nor a thousand evil men could keep me from you,” he smiled before pulling me into his chest.

As we hold each other, the chaos around us fades into the background. For a moment, time stands still, and all that matters is that we are together. He was here, in my arms and he was alive. Both of us were, and there were many more years ahead of us. Many, many more years.

Epilogue: third person pov

Rhysand and Feyre stood in the living room of the townhouse. The world outside was near silent as Velaris slept, having spent the day celebrating solstice. Even the faelights in the home seemed to have dimmed. Members of the Inner Circle worked to clean the dessert plates off the table where they had their magnificent feast.

“And that’s their story,” Rhys finished saying to his mate, rubbing her shoulder as they continued to admire the scene before them.

On the large couch before them y/n was asleep on top of an even sleepier Azriel, his arms, legs and wings all but draping off the edges just to keep her comfortable.

When Feyre stumbled into the adorable scene it had occurred to her that she had never heard the story of how the two came to be. Rhysand was more than happy to tell her the tale of forbidden love and near death experiences.

“They’ve been through so much,” Feyre said, leaning into Rhysand’s touch.

“They truly have,” Rhys nods, pressing a kiss to his mate's temple. “But now they get to eat too much turkey every solstice and skip out on dish duty so I think it worked out okay.” he chuckles.

Feyre slaps him on the chest playfully but laughs right along with them watching as the pair lounges on the couch, mouths open and completely and utterly relaxed. The High Lord and Lady turn from the living room to rejoin the rest of their family in the kitchen. There would be time to make fun of the princess and the shadowsinger tomorrow.

They had all the time in the world.

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readychilledwine · 10 hours

Text

Threesome

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth ✨️

Threesomes fall into a few different play types: domination, voyeurism and exhibitionist, and Zelophilia *jealousy play/competition play* and there is a ton of psychologically behind why couples or even singles looking for new fun may partake in one. Threesomes are so desired in the kink community for a few reasons. Here's a few of the most common:

Polyamory - Some people genuinely do enjoy sexual and non sexual connections with multiple partners, so threesomes are a natural outcome of that mindset and lifestyle. It isn't for everyone, but for those who enjoy having multiple partners, there is nothing more satisfying than getting to express the love and joy you all share in one mess of flesh and sweat.

Sexuality exploration (especially among the bisexual community) - it helps allow you to explore questioning sexuality or known sexuality with multiple genders, two people of the same gender, gender fluid people. It can also help if you have a bisexual partner who misses the touch and feel of the sex they are not currently with.

And rekindling - a threesome is an exciting new experience a lot of people do not commonly get to try due to insecurity, jealousy, lack of foundation and trust in the relationship, but when/if you are lucky enough to get to have one, it's. So. Thrilling. It is a new person you get to show off for, a new performance, a new stimulant. It can help rekindle passion, bring new spark, and in some cases teach new methods and positions you haven't tried before.

Threesomes are not something to just casually throw into your love life, though. Threesomes can destroy a relationship as quickly as they can add to it. You have to make sure you and your partner agree on your third that boundaries are set and understood and that you both feel secure. Otherwise, like we talked about with cucking, this can destroy a relationship fast.

Also, before the ask even comes in. Yes. The answer to your question is yes, because at least one of you is going to secretly wonder and possibly send the anon.

💕Peep the Kink Bingo Masterlist Here💕

✨️ As always, NSFW below cut ✨️

Lucien x Reader x Azriel

Warnings - dom!Lucien, sub!reader, switch!Azriel, oral (m and f), competitiveness, mentions of Tamlain (which has potential as a ship 🤔), technically dp, praise kink, ps this dynamic was hard to write, so I went with my heart, hopefully it isn't disappointing.

“She doesn't even want you!” You sighed, swirling the wine you had been nursing for the past 30 minutes as Lucien and Azriel fought.

It was no wonder Elain had run and fallen straight into Tamlin's arms. The two males before you were constantly at odds with each other, constantly stroking their own egos, fighting like children trying to claim the last piece of candy, and quite frankly, they were irritating.

You sighed as your mate's winged flared in anger at that statement, "And what? Do you think she wants YOU? That's comical, Vanserra. Really." You had thanked the Mother and Cauldron for Azriel daily, you truly had, but something about Lucien had captured your mind, and the male, still upset about his own bond failing due to your mate, had taken advantage of that. That didn't stop you from loving Azriel, though. From wanting him. From wanting both of them.

You two had not planned on falling in love with both, but here you were, married to Lucien due to a drunken night in Adriata and mated to Azriel.

You didn't understand why Elain felt the need to choose and to chase. You could have them both if you wanted, and just to prove that point, you untied the satin robe you were wearing, revealing the lack of clothing underneath. Lucien was the first to notice as Azriel continued ranting. His hand had gone to your thigh instantly, eyes locked on your own as he devoured the sight before him. You reached for his shirt, pulling you to him and settling him on top of you. “You sure?” It took Lucien's husky voice dripping in desire for Azriel's shadows to curl his ears, whispering that you were staring at him, waiting.

“I want you both. Please.” Lucien was more than happy to oblige, placing soft kisses down your body, relishing in every noise as Azriel stared, eyes wide in lust and shock.

Lucien wasted no time, going to where you wanted him most and nipping at your inner thigh as he placed them over his shoulders. Lucien looked up at you, eyes locking on yours as he took his first lick at your core. He smirked with pride as your head fell back, a mix of a moan and sigh leaving your throat. You reached on hand to Azriel, the other tangling into Lucien's hair. Azriel moved to you, breath slightly hitched. He squatted down by you, grabbing your throat gently right as Lucien locked your bundle of nerves between his lips, licking and sucking on it.

Azriel held you in place for him, a smirk growing on his face. “Look so pretty like this, baby,” his free hand moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples and groaning as he watched you try to squirm only to be held in place by Lucien. Azriel tutted you softly, “Be good for Lucien, sweetness. Gotta listen and stay where he wants you, or I'll just play with him while you watch.”

Lucien groaned against you, fingers squeezing your thighs as if he enjoyed the thought of that. He looked up at you, one eye whirling to search for any sign of discomfort, the other blown out with lust and need.

Lucien didn't eat you out like a male starved. No, every lick and suck was methodically planned. It served a purpose to send wave after wave of pleasure down nerves begging for more and more. You heard Azriel's clothing coming off, and you felt the room shift as you got closer. “Hurry up and finish her off, Lucien. The quicker we get her onto the bed, the sooner you find out what a gift her mouth is.” You whimpered, drooling at the thought of choking on Lucien. "You want that, don't you, y/n?"

Azriel forced you to nod, laughing at your big eyes and quick submission. Azriel pushed Lucien's head further into your cunt, watching with heated eyes as your head went back further into the pillows, breathing becoming more shallow and rushed. "Gods, she's fucking close. Look at you, Lucien, making our girl so happy. Do you want her to cum for you?” Lucien grabbed your thighs higher, pulling you into him more and moaning at Azriel's hand, tugging and tangling in his red locks. "How lucky am I? Two beautiful submissive little creatures both so eager to please.”

You felt Lucien's smirk, knowing he had just as much of a dominant streak in him. You were just happy to be there. To play the part of this needy creature, especially if it meant drowning in pleasure. Lucien pushed a finger into you, curling it and chuckling as you gasped his name, toes curling. He focused on you and you alone, not even watching as Azriel went down to you whispering in your ear as his scarred hands tweaked and played with your nipples.

You were a mess for them already. Core drenched and begging, clenching around Lucien's single finger tighter and tighter as your moans and cries began louder. Falling over the edge with Lucien was always easy. He didn't make you see stars. He made you see worlds. He made you cry and beg. It was no different with an audience. Lucien forced you over that edge, hands tangling into his hair, screaming his name, and coaxing little noise after noise of over stimulation from you once your high ended. And then jealousy flooded that bond you shared with Azriel.

Azriel lifted you from the couch as Lucien watched, taking you over to your bed and tossing you down with effort. Lucien seemed surprised by the smile that appeared in your face as you got onto your knees, hands roaming Azriel's chest as the male pulled your hair back and forced you into a rough kiss.

You held a hand out to Lucien as he did, a quiet invitation to join you two instead of just watching. Perhaps it was selfish, but you wanted his hands on you, wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel both of them. Lucien came to the bed and started kissing down your neck, warm hands resting on your hips. “So fucking beautiful, baby,” his voice caressed your ear, sending shivers up and down your body.

Azriel pulled apart, hazel eyes filled with lust. His hand went to Lucien's face, and his thumb traced his plush lips. “I believe she thinks the same thing about you.” Azriel ran his hand down to Lucien's throat, squeezing it softly, “Are you going to be a good boy and listen?”

It was then that you giggled, and Lucien smirked, “Are you?” The question sent electricity through the air. It bought a new challenge, a new competition between the two males. You scooted away as Azriel studied Lucien, watching and waiting. “I promise you this is a game I will win,” Lucien raised a brow to Azriel. “Can you handle that?”

For the first time in the many years of friendship you and Azriel shared, you saw him blush, “I-”

“Let us take care of you, Azriel,” the domination in Lucien's tone was so gentle. “When's the last time someone took care of you?” Lucien stood and moved Azriel to sit on the bed. With a quiet authority, he used two fingers to beacon you over to him. “Lovely, I want you to undress him for us.”

“Yes sir,” Your hands went to the clasps around Azriel's wings, undoing them while you kissed the side of his neck. Once the back was able to free his wings, you moved in front of him, hands running over the smooth fabric before pulling the shirt off.

You had to resist the urge to lick every dark bargain tattoo to trace each swirl like you knew Azriel loved. Lucien had given you a task. One you had to focus on. Your hands went to his pants, and he stood to allow you to slide them and his underwear down. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. It was hard, leaking, ready. Lucien grabbed you by the back of your neck, stopping you from what you desperately wanted to do. “Hands and knees on the bed. You have to be good to earn his cock.”

Azriel watched you obey in silence. Lucien wasn't forcing. He wasn't rough, and he didn't have you screaming and drooling. He just commanded and used gentle touches, and you obeyed. “Do you want to get her ready, or do you want me to?”

“I will,” Azriel ran a hand over your ass and Lucien stopped him before he could spank you.

“Be gentle with our girl. She's been such a good listener. She deserves soft tonight.” Azriel could hardly understand what that meant, what being soft in bed meant. “Submission is a gift. Look at how easily she handed us that present. Doesn't she deserve to be treated well for being such a good girl?”

Azriel felt a wave of something setting in. If he was good, would he get a reward? Would he get to be loved this gently? He ran a finger through your core, making you cry out, and slowly, he pushed it in. You felt your eyes roll as he did, feeling yourself stretching around just his finger.

You had always told Azriel how much you loved his scars, and it took him fingering you 3 times for him to find out why. He began to open you slowly, pressing each movement in the area he knew you loved the most. Lucien leaned down and captured Azriel's mouth in a long overdue kiss.

This is what they needed the whole time. And outlet to their mutual attraction. A place they could safely explore each other. Lucien began to stroke Azriel's cock as Azriel added another finger inside of you. Your moans and cried were background music to them as Lucien pulled his mouth away. “Do you want her pussy or her mouth? I'm more than happy to just watch you fuck her while she sucks me off.”

Azriel hummed, “She's more than capable of handling-”

“She wants one of us in her mouth. We've had enough sex at this point while you've been enjoying the pleasure houses that I know her. If she was in the mood for anal, she'd be very vocal about it.”

Azriel's fingers pressed hard into your gspot, making you scream his name. “Please. I need more. I need-”

“Don't beg,” Azriel growled at you. Lucien glared as you whimpered in submission. “I also know her. Look at how wet and ready she is. She could handle it.”

“It's not a question of can or can't, Az. It's if she wants to. Y/n, what do you want?”

Azriel felt your core Tighten around him, pleased Lucien cared about your wants and needs. “Not anal,” Lucien motioned towards you after your answer.

“If you let me pick, I'm taking her mouth,” Lucien said plainly.

Azriel huffed and nodded, “I've never been this gentle with her.”

“Clearly. She loves it. Look at her.” It was true you did. You were relaxed in a state of complete bliss, moaning as Azriel's fingers touched all the best places. Azriel was memorized by the sight. By you not bending and breaking to his will as a dom, but flowing and thriving under another male's. You listened without question, didn't mouth off to Lucien. This side of you, this pretty girl, he liked her almost as much as he loved his little brat.

He loved the part of you that sassed him, that pushed him, but this, this beautiful offering of whatever they wanted as long as you wanted it as well, it made his heart flutter. Azriel moved behind you as Lucien moved in front of you. Your hand was instantly on the Day Court heir’s cock, stroking him in time with Azriel's fingers. “Whenever you're ready, Az,” Lucien was staring into your eyes as he spoke. “She's ready.”

Azriel took his fingers out, coating himself in your essence before lining up with you. Taking Azriel was always a stretch, and Lucien praised you both all the way through it, “Look at how good you two are. Perfect little pets for me, aren't you?”

Azriel groaned at his words as he began a gentle but deep pace. He hit every spot so perfectly filling you like your body had been made for him. You focused then on Lucien's aching cock, moaning as you licked your way up and took the head into your mouth. Lucien relaxed on his knees, wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he guided you in time with Azriel.

It did not take long for the pace to get frenzied, for the two males to be focused in bringing you to completion again in order to allow them to chase their own highs.

Each moan around Lucien had his head falling back, and each twitch of your core had Azriel cursing. You could feel heat rising and building. You could feel core lower stomach getting tight in need.

Azriel looked to Lucien and the male smirked and nodded. You screamed as Azriel began pounding into you. His thrusts became rough and deep. He arched your back more allowing him to hit your gspot over and over as he pushed you further onto Lucien's cock.

Lucien smirked down at you, “This is when you look prettiest, you know that? Choking on a cock, stuffed full. You look so pretty when your eyes glaze over and you get desperate. You want to cum, don't you angel?” You could only moan around him in response as Azriel grabbed your arms, leaving you fully at their mercy and forcing your muscles to strain.

The heat in the room grew to a roaring fire as the noise of slick and skin meeting skin rang in the air. You could feel that boil threatening to burst, feel it aching as you were used by the two males you love. This was heaven. It was safety. It was burning passion. A shadow moved to your clit and you lost it. Moan became whines and whimpers.

You could tell Lucien was close. His eyes were screwed shut. His pace in your mouth was sloppy. Between your tongue, the vibrations of your pleasure, and newness of the 3 of you together, you could feel him twitching, feel him ready to release.

He held you to him as he came, and Azriel continued pounding. You swallowed every drop of him greedily and whined as he pulled out. “She's so close,” Lucien forced you to look at Azriel.

Your mate smirked before planting one foot on the bed and his pace became impossibly faster. Both males laughed as your eyes rolled in pleasure and your jaw fell open. Azriel groaned loudly as you tightened around him, “That's our good girl. Cum for us. Finish on my cock.”

With a flick of a shadow and one well aimed thrust you fell apart, screaming as you tumbled from that edge. Azriel immediately lost himself in the feel of you pulsing around him and found his release moments later, listening as Lucien praised you and talked you through your high, guiding you back to them.

You collapsed into Lucien's lap and Azriel into your back. The room was filled with the sounds of labored breathing. Azriel gently pulled out of you and Lucien took the towel the house summoned to clean you all off.

You had never been more thankful for a large bed in your life as the three of you laid there processing what had happened. “This is happening again,” you declared firmly. Lucien just nodded, and Azriel agreed softly.

"I've never handed over control," Azriel confessed softly. "I've never done that."

Lucien just smirked at his accomplishment, "Then, with me is a safe place to learn."

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daycourtofficial · 22 hours

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Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - part 14.1

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.5k | previous part | masterlist

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: okay babes I’m desperate to get this out bc this part is going to be so fucking long I had to break it up into parts

“Rhys, stop!”

Feyre’s shriek of annoyance draws your attention to the front, your eyes watching Feyre chastise Rhysand for driving almost 30 miles per hour over the speed limit. You and Azriel were in the backseat of Rhys’s car (“It’s a Tesla,” Rhys would correct), Feyre in the front seat making several comments about the way Rhys drives as if he is attempting to murder all of you.

Mor and Cassian drove separately in Cassian’s truck - you and Azriel snickered at their less than covert attempts to be alone in the apartment. The six of you had been about to hit the road when Cassian had ‘forgotten his driving sunglasses’ and Mor had immediately offered to help. Rhys had rolled his eyes, telling Cassian the four of you were going to head off instead of waiting for them.

Rhys’s lake house was about an hour and a half away, so you and Azriel had spent that time in the back mindlessly chatting, showing each other silly videos of mostly cats. Feyre sat in the passenger seat, deeming herself in charge of the music, the three of you not caring what she put on.

Whenever Rhys and Feyre were too preoccupied in their own conversation to notice the two of you, you would slip your hand into one of Azriel’s, playing with his fingers or just squeezing lightly before pulling away.

“When do we think Cassian will show up?” You ask, making eye contact with Rhys in the rearview mirror. He scoffs, turning his eyes back to the road, “no telling. He’ll get hungry eventually, so he’ll probably show up around dinner.”

The six of you met up around two, you and Azriel almost arriving late because of your lunch date taking too long. Neither of you wanted to pretend there wasn’t something between you two, but both of you wanted to wait a bit before telling everyone, causing the two of you to linger in the parking lot for far too long, neither of you wanting to keep up the charade.

The impending deadline didn’t stop him from kissing you as if he were going off to war in the parking lot of the cafe you two went to, though. You could still taste the coffee he had on your tongue.

Feyre sighed, looking out the window, “maybe I shouldn’t have put my bag in his truck.”

You laughed, partly at her melodramatics, partly at how foolish she was to leave her bag in Cassian’s truck, “I don’t think you’re seeing that bag for a while, Fey.”

She turns her head to look at you, a scowl on her face, “you make it sound like this is my fault.”

“Well, we did put Cassian and Mor in a car together, so maybe the group is at fault. Just be thankful they didn’t pull over and have sex on top of your bag.”

Her scowl deepened, a look of disgust on her features, “my poor bag would never be the same. I would never be the same.”

“You’d have Cassian butt sweat on it.”

“Ewww, stop.”

“Or worse, his butt hair.”

You laugh as Feyre whips her head to scowl at Rhys, “and how do you know about his hairy butt?”

“Cassian spent our teenage years with a new approach to life - he was determined to be naked at any and every opportunity.” You giggle at Azriel’s words, his ears reddening a bit at the attention you were giving him.

“My mother considered kicking him out because he kept walking around naked and standing in the windows.”

You and Feyre giggled at the image, but Rhys continued. “Our neighbors kept calling and complaining. I’m actually not sure how she got him to stop.”

“She probably bribed him. It’s the only way with him.” You quirk an eyebrow at Azriel before he continues, “nothing ever got to him as a kid - yelling, getting in trouble, praising him. But bribery always worked on him.”

You turn to Azriel, pointing your head in the direction of the front seat, “what was Rhys like as a kid.”

Az huffs, “same as now. Spoiled and annoying.”

Rhys glares at him through the rearview mirror, but Az continues. “He was a bit pompous, always talking about how rich his family was.”

You watch Az try to keep from smiling as Feyre laughs, before reaching a hand out to pinch Rhys’s cheek. The movement pings something in your mind, telling you to ask about it later.

“I did not.”

“You once came to school in a helicopter.”

Rhys sinks a bit in his seat, but you file this whole conversation away in a folder of your brain titled ‘ask again later’. You had a vague sense of things you had picked up over time - Rhys’ parents were technically married, but his dad would travel a lot. Rhys’ mother and sister died at some point. Somehow Azriel and Cassian came into the picture.

It was a bit fuzzy, and you never found out why Cassian lived on his own away from Rhys and Az. You had little pieces, but you needed some way to connect the. You filed it away, just allowing yourself to enjoy the car ride.

The ride eventually reached a lull where the two of you sat in the backseat texting each other while Feyre and Rhys talked mindlessly about goats, maybe. You really weren’t sure what was going on up there.

Azriel: did you know all the guys in this town are riddled with disease

Azriel: so you shouldn’t get anywhere near them

Azriel: just to be safe

You: I like disease-riddled men

Azriel: is now a good time to tell you I had chicken pox as a kid

You: oh really?

You: Mmm itchy men

Azriel: I regret this

You: do you have any scars from it?

Azriel: that’s classified

You: I’ll just have to go around searching for them from other men

Azriel: wait no

Azriel: no no no no no

Azriel: this is a joke right

His eyes snap up to you after you refuse to respond to him, and you have to stifle a giggle at the way he’s looking at you.

You: I’m a changed woman. I prefer disease free men now

Azriel: thank god you’ll stay away from Cassian now

You look up at him with wide eyes before you type back furiously.

You: Azriel we share an apartment what do you mean

You: I let him drink my coffee the other day

You: Azzy please tell me you’re joking

You huff as each of your texts is met back with the three dots indicating he was typing. You looked over at him to find him typing random letters before backspacing to allow the dots to stay up.

You: meanie head

Azriel: you’re the one who said you preferred disease riddled men

You: they wouldn’t treat me like this

You: I would be a queen to them

You: me and my disease riddled king

Azriel: that implies you are their diseased queen

The two of you continue trying to stifle giggles as Rhys drives, Az’s hand moving to squeeze your thigh. You’re so distracted by texting him and his hand on your thigh you don’t notice where you are until the car is pulling into a neighborhood of massive houses that could likely fit multiple families with room to spare. You sit up straighter, looking out the window at these multi-dollar houses and wonder if this was a vacation home, what did Rhys’ house look like growing up?

You knew Rhys’s dad’s lake house was going to be a ridiculously large house. You knew that before, you knew that as the car drove through the neighborhood, but pulling up into the driveway it was as if you had completely forgotten. The house was massive - it had to be at least three floors above ground, and the property it was on was large too.

Rhys’ car slows across the long driveway, no other cars around. You have to strain your neck to look at the house in its entirety - it was beautiful - three or four floors, large windows showing off spacious areas on the second and third floors. It was a mix of the classic lakehouse look, but with slightly modern twists to it. All you could think about while looking at it was how long it would take to clean it. Most of your squabbles with Cassian were over whose turn it was to do dishes, and you knew this place would really test your friendship with him if you lived here.

Or maybe he’d just be able to better hide his messes in this house.

“How long would this take to clean?”

Your voice comes out a bit squeaky before you clear your throat, looking over at Az.

“You think Rhys’s dad does his own cleaning?”

Rhys parks his car in the garage, the four of you getting out. Rhys opens the trunk, and you reach out to grab your bags but Azriel beats you to it, slinging your duffle bag over his shoulder. He crinkles his nose at your pout, sticking his tongue out as he walks into the house. You follow after him, taking in how nice his back looked through his shirt.

Azriel heads to the stairs, taking Feyre to her room, but you fall back to take in the living room. You could host a house party in this living room and fit a hundred people easily. You siddle next to Rhys, watching him play with the lid of his coffee in one hand, his phone lit up in the other.

“Are you worried at all about your dad showing up?”

Rhys sips his coffee before answering, “I’d be more shocked than anyone if he showed up here. Az, Cass, and I once spent an entire summer camped out here. Didn’t even catch a glimpse of him.” He shrugs, his face looking indifferent as his phone screen displays the ‘find my friends’ app, and he looks quizzically at the screen, trying to figure out where Cassian was, you presume.

He blows out a breath, “I’m gonna call him.”

You walk away, opting to look at the photos that decorated the walls. The living room is covered in them, all shapes and sizes of frames littered the yellow wall. You see photos of younger versions of Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys, photos from when they were about ten or so until pretty recently, if you had to guess. You can watch them grow, the three of them looking so unsure of themselves at various stages.

The young photos of Azriel are littered with an air of sadness to them, his eyes not quite as bright as they are now, bandages still lingering on his hands for a long time. Azriel’s the smallest in what you think is the first photo, not much more than skin and bones, his now tan skin had a sickly pale hue to it. A woman and a young girl are in the photos with them, the five of them all looking remarkably similar - it’d be very easy to convince others that the two boys were Rhys’s brothers. The photos are all tan skin, dark curls limp in some photos from the ocean water. They are scattered across the wall, no chronological order to them, but if you lined them up you could watch the three of them grow.

The photos made you feel a well of emotion - how someone could be so cruel to someone so small, so defenseless. But as the photos continued and Azriel blended in more with this family, it made you feel so proud of him for opening himself up like that, when all he knew was pain.

He hadn’t told you the extent of his childhood - just that his family was awful, he hadn't seen or spoken to them in a decade, and his step brothers burned his hands. But the pictures of this small, helpless boy looking so lost at the lake spoke volumes for him.

Rhys put the phone down from his ear as he hung up. “They’ll meet us at the restaurant for dinner. He muttered something about a pit stop before hanging up on me.”

He gazes at the photos as he stands next to you, his eyes landing on the one you’ve been staring at. It involved a very young Azriel, fresh bandages adorning his hands. The striking woman was holding him so delicately, as if her arms squeezed him too hard he’d burst in her hold.

“That’s my mom.”

His voice catches you off guard, not expecting much of anything from him. He points at the photo, his finger tapping slightly on the glass.

“She’s beautiful.”

He hums in agreement, “she loved Az. She fought so hard for him. First person to fight for him, really. Spent a shit ton of money getting custody of him.”

That surprises you, but you leave it there for now, keeping your eyes on her smiling face. His gaze lingers on her soft smile, “she loved all of us, but boy did she love Az.”

You watch his mind go somewhere, not wanting to intrude, about to step away when he speaks up again. “That’s my sister. Kaylah.”

His finger moves to a photo nearby, landing on the young girl that Cassian had hoisted on his shoulders.

“She’s cute.”

“She loved bothering Cassian. The two of them butted heads more than any of us combined.” His voice was full of love and nostalgia. “She once got so mad at him she pulled her shoe off and threw it at his head. He was so chuffed he didn’t notice her throw the other, both of them hitting his eyes. He had a black eye for weeks.”

You laugh, “oh my gods, what happened?”

“What happened?” He turned to you, a wide grin on his face, “we got kicked out of the restaurant we were in, and she had the audacity to ask for her shoes back because they landed at another table.” He laughs, a twinkle in his eye you had never seen before. “Oh, Kaylah was something. She always made us laugh.”

“What happened to her?”

Rhys looks down, the twinkle immediately leaving his eye, “she and my mom were hit by a drunk driver when we started school. We- it was a hard time.”

You look over at him, tentatively moving your arms around his waist and hugging him to you.

“I’m sorry.”

He squeezes you back, his citrusy scent filling your nose. “Me too.”

The two of you gaze at the photos, at a time long gone, standing in silence as if an embrace could change the ending for the subjects of the photos.

The moment’s broken by Feyre’s voice, “what’s going on here?”

You turn your face to look at her, head still against Rhys’s chest, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. We’re in love. He’s having my baby.”

She gasps overdramatically, clutching her chest as she puts on a ridiculous voice, “oh my stars! The scandal!”

You giggle as Rhys unwraps himself from you, “we were going to tell everyone while we were here, but it’s true. We’re naming the baby Cassian Junior.”

Feyre breaks her resolve, giggling, “how is it Cassian Junior?”

“Cassian’s adopting him, of course.”

Feyre giggles before coming to the wall of photos, looking too. “Wow, you guys were so little!”

You laugh, “yeah now we have proof Cassian wasn’t born with a six pack.”

“A six pack of beer, maybe.”

Azriel’s voice startled you. How a man so large was so adept at sneaking up on you unaware was impressive. He stopped behind you, but you could feel his warmth through your back.

“That would explain a lot,” Rhys mutters, turning away from the photos and sitting onto the couch. He stretched out his long legs, propping them on the ottoman before him. “That drive took a lot out of me.”

“It was two hours,” you scoff, sitting on a nearby chair. Azriel followed you, sitting in the chair next to you.

“Two hours is a long time.”

“Maybe for a baby,” Feyre coos, sitting next to Rhysand, pinching his cheeks. His hands swat at hers, pushing her away with very little effort. The four of you mindlessly chatter away, Feyre telling you all about something one of her sisters recently did, until Rhys’s phone buzzed again, Mor texting him that they were half an hour away.

The four of you jump back into Rhys’ Tesla, and he rolls down the windows as he drives you all to some restaurant called ‘Mama’s’.

“But ‘Mama’s’ what?” You had asked, to which Rhys and Az shrugged.

“Just ‘Mama’s’.”

You had huffed, accepting the nonanswer for the time being. The windows give you a glimpse of the tax brackets you drove through - starting the journey in multi-million dollar homes occupied during the warm months, the landscape quickly changes to lower and middle class homes for the people who live here year round.

Rhys pulls the car into a small restaurant, fitted with outdoor lighting and seating. It was so homey - a dozen or so people stood around outside, playing some variety of games like checkers and cornhole. A couple dozen more sat at tables, eating what smelled to be the most enticing food ever created. Your stomach rumbles at the smell, and Feyre laughs at you before you poke her in the stomach with an elbow.

You spot Cassian leaning against his car, Mor standing next to him on her phone. He stretches his arms out, huffing, “finally, we’ve been waiting for you!”

Rhys promptly pushes him as he walks past, and Mor giggles as he falters a bit and she falls in line with you and Feyre and you gag at her. “You smell like sex.”

She gasps, “no I do not,” before discreetly smelling her shirt.

“No, you don’t. Made you sniff.”

She rolls her eyes, copying your words in an exaggerated voice.

The six of you find a table, and you’re seated in the middle of the booth with Feyre and Rhys next to you. Azriel sits on the end of the other booth, and you make brief eye contact across the table, sending him a soft smile.

The waitress comes up to your table, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, her black clothes making her eyes pop, her name tag reading ‘Steph’. She looked at all of you, but her eyes stopped on Azriel, her smile growing wider at the sight of him.

“Hi everybody, what can I get you all to drink?”

She takes your drinks orders, rubbing Azriel’s shoulder as she walks away. Cassian laughs at Azriel’s grimace, “I think she likes you, Azzy.”

“Shut up, Cass.”

Azriel looked to you as your friends kept talking, and you offered him a smile back. His face was hard to read, but his eyes looked so sad. You cock your head to the side, trying to figure out what the problem was, but he turned his head away.

Dinner goes by in a blur, the food was delicious, the six of you spent the evening joking around, except for Azriel, who spent most of the meal quiet. The waitress came by to check on you all several times, and her blatant efforts at flirting would have been amusing if it wasn’t completely obvious how uncomfortable it made Azriel. Each time she returned to your table, you would watch him tense up as she approached, her hands always finding their way to his shoulders. On her third stop at your table, she began calling him Muffin.

Rhys paid the check, handing over the receipt to Azriel.

“For you, Muffin.”

Azriel takes it, and from next to him you can see the phone number written beneath the total. His hands crumple it, discarding it before you all made it to the parking lot. He opens your door before heading to the other side of the car after you slide into your seat. You immediately pull out your phone, your texts with Azriel lighting up the backseat.

You: hi Muffin

Azriel: I’m so sorry

You: why? Did you do something?

Azriel: for the waitress?

You: did you do something with the waitress?

You: I did go to the bathroom, maybe you slipped out and made out with her?

You can hear Azriel furiously typing on his phone.

Azriel: no no no no

Azriel: I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t do that. I’m sorry she was hitting on me.

Azriel: I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t want to tell her I had a girlfriend

You: you have a girlfriend?

You: and you’ve been making out with me?

You: you dog

You peak over at him and his face is a deep red. You want to laugh but you feel a little bad about your teasing once you see his fingers shaking, having to backspace several times over misspelled words.

Azriel: I think so

Azriel: I didn’t mean to imply anything

You: so, you don’t have a girlfriend?

Azriel: I don’t know

Azriel: maybe?

You: do you want one?

You: a girlfriend, that is

Azriel: god yes

Azriel: but it has to be a specific girl

You: anyone in mind?

Azriel: I have my eye on someone

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pit-and-the-pen · 1 day

Note

69 and 98 of the prompt list for Azriel 🙇 you just write him so well, no worries if not!! 🧡🧡

This was not supposed to be this long but I was listening to sleep token while writing this, I was also already planning out a fic that these prompts fit into perfectly.

warnings: Smut (18+), oral (M/F receiving), Bondage, knife mention (only to cut rope), mid-sized reader (could be read as plus sized too), unprotected sex, praise, degradation.

WC: 4.7k

You were just putting the back of your earring in when you met hazel eyes in the mirror. A smile danced its way across your face when you saw the way his eyes were trailing ever so slowly down your figure, lingering on your waist. Or more so the way the dress you were currently wearing was cutting into it, accentuating your already plush thighs.

“So pretty.” He whispered into the air as he walked closer to you. His hand gently swiped your hair to one side of your hair and he placed a kiss on your bare shoulder.

“My pretty girl.” The reverence in his tone made you giggle. His teeth gave you a soft nip at the sound. “I mean it. All of this for me? Gods, how’d I get so lucky?” He speaks into your skin. You shift under his praise, his breath on your shoulder making a small shutter ripple through you.

“I wonder what you would do if you saw what was underneath?” Another laugh bubbled out as his eyes snapped to yours. His hands were already snaking along your waist, twisting to find the hem of your dress. He let out a downright sinful moan when he was greeted with the baby pink thong you were wearing. Cut high on your hips, elastic ever so slightly pushing in the flesh. The matching garter belt sitting above it, hugging your thighs like it was his hands wrapped around them. He ran his hands softly over the globes of your ass, squeezing in the perfect way. You found yourself arching back into his touch, leaning into him. His hands fanned out to your thighs, just resting his hands on the widest part. His eyes met yours in the mirror and he tugged you further against him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes dipped lower for a fraction of a second as your chest bobbed ever so slightly at the action. Your hand went to rest lightly on the mirror for balance and you were just about to reach back for him when Azriel cleared his throat.

“Just for me right?” Azriel said as he flipped the edge of your dress back down. You turned around in his grasp and grabbed his hand.

“Of course.” You raised onto your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. “Only for you.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush to him. You could feel every inch of his muscled body against yours and had to bite back a groan when you felt his arousal already straining against his dress pants. You bit your lip and he pushed a leg between yours. He pulled your lips towards his hungrily, hands instantly twining into your hair. The kiss was all teeth and tongue. Both of your chests are heaving. When your hand started to drift down to his belt, he grabbed your wrist to stop it’s descent. The action caused a whimper to leave your mouth that he just swallowed down. He pulled his lips away from yours, leaning his forehead against yours. You sucked down greedy lungfuls of air as you willed your heart rate to calm.

“If your hand goes any lower, we’re not making it to this dinner.” He rasps. Your gaze lifts to his, eyes wide and innocent as you trail your hand lower once again. Your fingers just barely brush past the straining fabric before your hand is pinned against your side.

“Oh sweetheart.” He tisked. His eyes darkened slightly as they swept over you. “You seemed to think that was a request.” His thumb started to rub small circles over your wrist that was straining against his hold. “You’re lucky this dinner is important to Rhys or else you would not be able to walk in the morning.”

“Do you really think you could do that?” You were only causing more problems for yourself at this point but you were desperately hoping he would just break and give you what you wanted right now. As soon as the words left your mouth, your back was pressed against the wall, a scarred hand wrapped tightly around your throat. Not enough to cut off the blood flow but just enough for you to feel the weight of it there. An invitation for you to keep running your mouth.

“Do you wanna repeat that, princess?” Fuck it.

“I don’ think you could fuck me hard enough for me to not be able to walk. That’s all.” You smiled as his fingers twitched slightly. HIs shoulders moved up as he sucked in a deep breath.

“We’ll see about that won’t we.” His hand left your neck and trailed up your jaw. You gasped as his hand pinned your head back to the wall by the roots of your hair. His hold forces you to look him in the eyes. “I’m going to give you one last chance to say sorry, bunny.” You opened your mouth slightly before closing it. Making it look like you were really considering your words.

The smile didn’t leave your face as you uttered out a sickly sweet. “Make me.” His hands only gripped your hair tighter, making tears prickle in the corner of your eyes.

“You could have been my good girl tonight.” His hand let your hair and he backed up a few paces. “But if that’s how you want to be. Fine.” He reached down to adjust himself. “‘Finish getting ready, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” Your lips parted to argue, but he only reached out a hand to shut your mouth. “This is not a discussion. I’ll be downstairs and don’t even think of touching yourself.” He pulled his touch away and you felt cold despite the fire roaring through your veins. That was all he said before he walked out of the bedroom. Leaving you to wonder what exactly you had gotten yourself into.

You were all but running down the stairs to reach the bottom before your time was up.

“That was fifteen.” His voice was cold, a smirk plastered onto his face. Shadows wrapped around your waist the moment your feet were on flat ground again. “You’re only making this worse for yourself. But what did I expect?” It sounded like he was talking to himself and you felt your cheeks heat up as he talked about you like you weren’t standing right in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, not as much as you will be later. Come on.” He reached out a hand for you to take. You didn’t hesitate to thread your fingers through his. He pulled you close to his side as he winnowed you outside of the restaurant Feyre had been raving about for the last year and a half.

His arm was slung casually over yours, fingers dancing along the skin he had bitten earlier. He didn’t leave a mark but you swore you could still feel his teeth. You shifted your weight and he gave a small laugh. “Behave.” Was the only reminder you were given before you walked into the restaurant.

Your friends were already waiting for you. Five pairs of eyes flickering up to greet you. Feyre rose to her feet to give you a crushing hug when Azriel sent the first image down the bond. It was from last week, you on your knees. His head was thrown back as he gritted out your name, the moment right before he spilled down your thro- and then it was gone. You pulled away from Feyre and ignored the confused look she gave you. The others all gave their greeting before Azriel was pulling out your chair for you, hands not leaving the back until you were seated. He gave you a quick peck on the crown of your head before he took his own seat. His stance was a little wider than normal, one hand already resting on your knee. Tracing absentminded circles onto your overheated skin. His thumb lightly scratched behind his touch. The waiter brought out a few bottles of wine and you didn’t hesitate to pour yourself a slightly-too-large glass. You took a few heavy gulps before you put the glass down. A gentle wave came from the other side of the bond, soothing in a way that had you squirming despite yourself. Gentle like a hunter stalking their prey. The conversation flowed between all of you. Catching up since you all saw a lot less of each other these days. While Feyre was talking about how Nyx was doing in school, you tried not to notice the way that she was only drinking water. No one else seemed to clock it either. You’d have to pry later in the night. But just as soon as the thought crossed your mind, Azriel sent you another image. He had your legs pressed together, slung over one of his shoulders. Gripping so hard that your hips were leaving the mattress altogether. Soft cries of his name were pulled from your bruised lips over and over again. Azriel’s pleasure rose with every lethal snap of his hips. Rising rising until he- . Gone again. Your head snapped in his direction, eyes wide at the image he had sent you.You couldn’t stop the slight pout that rested on your face.

Dinner passed by slowly. Between Azriel’s hands slowly creeping higher on your thigh and the debauched thoughts he was sending down the bond, you were already a wreck. Your thighs hurt with how tightly they were squeezed shut. Your mate's heavy hand trying to sooth away some of the tension. Azriel sent you a warm feeling down the bond that had you relaxing ever so slightly. Nothing but pure love. The glow that he felt while watching you take all of this without so much of a blush on your cheeks. Pure male pride.

After the main course, you were damn near in his lap. Chair scooted slightly in his direction, legs pressed against each other. Cries of dessert were being thrown around and you felt like you were going to cry with frustration before you heard Azriel laughing, shaking his head slightly.

“She wasn’t feeling too good earlier but she didn’t want to miss this. But I can tell she’s getting tired. We should probably go home, shouldn’t we be my love?” He lied seamlessly. His fingers drumming a beat on your thigh. You nodded along, clearing your throat before you spoke.

“Yeah. I’ve had this weird stomach ache all day. But I was just so excited to see you all.”

“Oh, that’s perfectly fine. Feyre fully understands upset stomach as of late.” Rhys answered and he grunted as Feyre’s elbow found a soft spot between his ribs. Feyre rolled her eyes before she shot you a wink, holding up her glass of ice water like she had known you were eyeing it earlier. A silent confirmation that had another round of chatter starting. Eventually, you and Azriel were able to shake off all the goodbyes. Hugs and kisses on cheeks and promises of getting together sooner rather than later were exchanged.

Azriel placed a hand on the small of your back as you weaved your way out of the now crowded restaurant. His hand didn't move until he pulled you in his arms to winnow you two home.

The front door of your apartment was in view and Azriel only gestured to you to open the door. Timidly you fished out your key from the small clutch you were carrying and opened the door to your home. Fae lights flickering on as you step in. YOu could feel Azriel’s presence behind you. Could feel his shadows slinking across the ground, muffling your footsteps. Could feel the way his wings had flared out ever so slightly, becoming even more intimidating and impressive. Both of your wants seemed to charge the air with a delicious electric tension. This was one of your favorite parts of the night. To see who would crack first. You paused by the front door only enough to kick off your heels before you continued up the stairs to your bedroom. Azriel was close behind you. Not close enough that he was touching you but close enough for you to feel his body heat. He might as well have been touching every inch of you for how much you could sense his presence.

The fae lights flickered on in your room and you turned around to face your mate. He paused, eyes full of a predatory hunger. That look was almost enough to send you to your knees right then and there but you didn’t move a muscle before he told you too. You were already in enough trouble. So you stood stock still as he closed the distance between the two of you. HIs hand trailed from the edge of your jaw to the dip of your waist, feather light touches that had you leaning into his touch. He lightly grabbed your wrist and with a tug turned you around to face the other wall. His hand traveled all the way up your arm, over your shoulder and to the nape of your neck to start sliding down the zipper of your dress. The straps fell down as the fabric was pulled apart. You didn’t try to grab it as you shrugged them off, letting the fabric pool at your bare feet. The action left you clad in only the tiny thong and the matching lace bra. You were already shaking in anticipation. A gentle vibration that swept over your whole body. He held out a hand for you to take, and guided you to step out of your dress. Once you had, he dropped your hand. Touch hovering over your skin, drawing goosebumps like it might allow his skin to make contact with yours. A small step backwards towards him brought his hand up on the small of your back to stop your movement. His free hand twisted your hair into his fist. He pulled your head back to look up at the ceiling.

“Now, what should I do with you?” His lips ghosted over your neck. YOu let out a pathetic whimper, craving his touch more and more every second.

“Az..” You started but a harsh yank on your hair pulled a yelp out of you instead.

“You don’t get to speak. Not unless I tell you to.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “Not a single sound. Since I apparently can’t fuck you hard enough. It shouldn’t be a problem to keep quiet.” It wasn’t a question, merely him musing. So you kept your eyes on the ceiling. Not moving a muscle.

You felt the absence of his presence but didn’t take your eyes off the ceiling, squirming with anticipation. His shadows were lightly trailing over your skin, you bit your lip to keep your moans at bay. The soft thud that filled the room let you know he had pulled something out the drawer of your nightstand. Your head slowly lowered and you were greeted with the sight of Azriel stalking towards you, a bundle of rope in his hands. He queried an eyebrow up, a silent question. You nodded. You could feel the way your chest was rapidly rising and falling, the slight shake in your knees as you thought of what was to come. His nostrils flared slightly as you sent your want down the bond. He made a content noise in the back of his throat before he walked behind you.

With nibble fingers, he wrapped the rope around your shoulders first, forcing your shoulders back ever so slightly. You felt the way your it pushed your chest up. He slipped a finger between the rope and skin to make sure it wasn’t too tight as he tied off the first knot. He then grabbed your wrists and placed them right at the small of your back and looped the rope around them three times. He took his time with the process. Relishing in the calming actions of tying you up like his own personal present. He tied off the last knot and gave your arms a slight tug.

“How is that? You can speak.” He whispered into your neck, trailing kisses where your neck met your shoulders. YOu gave a strong yank on your ties, testing them. As usual, they were flawless. Not giving an inch. Not too tight but just enough to bite into your skin. Azriel was always good about that. You never worried about if it would hurt you or not.

“Perfect.” You said when you were confident they weren’t going anywhere. Your words were rewarded with a mean swipe of his tongue over your neck, followed by a sharp bite. You mewled at the touch and he only bit harder.

“Already making such pretty sounds. But I told you to be quiet sweetheart.” He rumbled against your skin. You nodded, acknowledging his words.

He hooked his hand into the middle of the harness he tied and lead you over to the bed. With a gentle possession, he guided you down until your chest was pressed against the mattress. Ass up in the air at his disposal. His leg nudged between your thighs, parting them widely for him. A small gasp left your lips at the feeling of the cold air on your soaked folds. You could already feel your arousal coating your thighs.

“Gods, look at how wet my pretty girl is.” He pressed up against you, hands kneading at your hips. Then his touch was gone and you wiggled your hips slightly at the loss of contact. That was when you felt his hands gripping your ass, and a delicious swipe of his tongue up your glistening folds. You buried your face in the mattress to stop the moans that were building in your throat. Fingers flexing around the ties keeping your arms pinned to your back. He wasted no time, no warm up as he dove in. Tongue entering your hole causing you to clench down at the pressure. Too much and not enough all at once. Your hips tilted ever so slightly and his hand twisted to your front to hold your hips still. You hoped he couldn’t make out the string of curses that left your lips when that hand drifted down lower and started swirling tight, fast circles on your clit. Your hips moved in time with his fingers. Rocking like those fingers were controlling. Between his skill fingers and his tongue lavishing between his legs, you were so close to your orgasm. You were about to open your mouth to let him know before you felt him pull away from you. Before you could even protest, he grabbed your arms and flipped you onto your back. The air left your lungs with a tiny grunt as you took in him hovering over you, arms caged above your head.

He trailed a finger down from your cheek all the way to your stomach, tracing over your arms, your shoulder, collar bone until he reached the apex of your thighs.

“Eyes on me.” He growled as he sunk two thick fingers inside your fluttering hole. You tasted blood as your teeth dug into the side of your cheek, desperate to scream his name. Youpulled at your binds. Wanting to reach out and touch the membrane on his wings. Anything that would break the calm, controlled male in front of you. As much as you loved his fingers you wanted him inside you. You let your eyes close and he growled. He curled his fingers against the spot that had your eyes snapping open and a high pitch version of his name pushed through your locked lips. He didn’t acknowledge it, just sped up his fingers. The sounds of the digits sinking into you over and again filled the room. No sounds of your cries to drown them out. The sound alone could have made you cum. Proof of how much he affected you. Your legs were moving, clenching together as you tried to fight off your inevitable orgasm until he gave you the word. He shook his head lightly, before pushing his elbow in between your legs, then sliding onto his stomach. His shoulders crushed any hope of you closing your legs, so you let them splay out to the side. No longer caring if you had permission to cum. He didn’t slow down his fingers and you started to shake ever so slightly. Small jerks in time with his fingers as you were tipping over the edge. Head thrown back. And then his fingers were gone. A cry of protest left your mouth and you tilted your head back down to see him. A shit eating grin plastered across his face. He ignored the look of outrage and stood up, his figure looming over you.

“You look so beautiful tied up like that.” Azriel ran two fingers down from the top of your hand all the way to your collarbone. A deep shudder ran through your whole body, goosebumps erupting below his feather light touch.

“Az, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please let me come, please.” Not caring that you weren’t supposed to be making any noise. The words spilled out of your mouth, pleading for that sweet release that he had ripped away from you again.

“I know you are.” His hand trailed over your cheek, smearing your arousal in his wake. “But I don't care how sorry you are.” He flipped you over onto your stomach and hiked your hips into the air. Landing a smack over your ass for good measure. The yelp you let out morphed into a high pitched wail as he sunk into the hilt in one push. You close your eyes as you swore you could feel the way his cock pushed your walls apart. Hitting that special spot perfectly without trying. He gave you a single breath to adjust before one of his hands snuck up to gather your hair, the other keeping a tight grip on your hip. Your hands were still bound against your back so you could do nothing but lay there as he ground his hips into you. Working deep and fast strokes. You might have been screaming but you didn’t care. You could only think of how closer you were to coming all over his beautiful cock. Unable to find the words to let him know, you just tried to keep the feeling at bay. Panting a broken version of his name which each filthy thrust. The sound of your bodies hitting filled the room over your cries. His own groans and curses flowy freely from his mouth as he tugged you against his chest.

“Not so big and bold when I’m fucking you dumb are you?” Each word was punctuated with a deep thrust. You shook your head. Hands trying to claw at the ties on your wrist. You could reach out and touch his stomach with how tightly you were pulled against him. A single finger stroked at his abs and he was tugging your hair back harder, forcing you to look at the ceiling. “Gods you’re such a fucking brat. But mother above do I love it. I fucking love you so muh princess. You take my cock so well. Like you were made just for this.” He kept rambling. Words bubbling over his lips and you could do nothing but take and feel and scream his name.

“Gonna…please. I need to cum.” You panted out, head slumping just slightly under his hold. He licked a long stripe up your neck before he let go of your hair, arm wrapping around your waist. You actually cried out as he pulled out. You bound hand clutching around the air, begging him to come back.

“No.No.. Please. I’m sorry. I’ll do anything. I just. Pretty please. I want to come so badly.”

“Shh.” He whispered into your ear. “I’m gonna lay down and I want you to be a good girl and ride my face until you come. Can you do that?” The idea of not being able to cum around his pretty cock had you whimpering. You felt a shadow wrap around your shoulder, tempting you to move higher on the bed.

“The only way you’re going to cum tonight sweetheart is on my tongue. So either I can shove my cock down your throat and you don’t get anything but my cum painting that wicked mouth. or you can put that pretty cunt on my face and finally get what you want so badly.” You whined again at his words. Whined at the way they sent another wave of pure want through you.

“But what if-”

“You won’t. And even if you did, which again you won’t, I couldn’t think of a better way to go then with my tongue buried inside of you.” He was already leaning back against the headboard, waiting for you to make your move. You saw how hard he was and thought maybe having your mouth wrapped around him wasn’t so bad. The thought must have been plastered across your face because he flexed his hips and you didn’t hesitate before you bent over his lap. It was hard without the use of your hands but once he figured out what you were going for, he took your hair in his hand and helped guide you to his throbbing length.

“Such a cock slut that you couldn’t say no to it could you.” He teased and you could only shake your head as meat as you could. Already touching his stomach with the tip of your nose. The stretch in your throat burned just a little. Tears twinging the corners of your eyes. But you absorbed the feeling. He was warm and heavy against your tongue. The skin so pretty and smooth. You could feel the way he was already twitching in your mouth.

“So good. Doing so well for me baby. My fucking good girl.” His teeth were clenched tightly. Barley gritting out the words as he started to thrust his hips in time with your mouth. You moan around his length and you pull you off of him. He yanked you up by your hair until your lips were pressed against his. His tongue pushed into your mouth so possessively that you melted against him.

“Fuck it.” He twisted you so you were straddling him. His hand reached out towards the nightstand and grabbed a small dagger that you kept by whenever the rope was out. The blade cut through the ties like butter and your hands were instantly on his shoulders. He reached down a hand and helped you guide him into you and you both were moaning as you sunk down all the way. A few timid pulls up and down had his head thrown back, moans and groans sliding through his plush lips. You leaned down and started sucking bruises on his neck at the same time your hips increased in pace. You rode him only searching for your pleasure. Pressing up against your g-spot again and again until you were seeing stars.

“I can feel you squeezing around me. Cum for me, pretty girl.” And that was all you needed to explode around him. His hand on your hip rolled your hips as your orgasm left you twitching above him. He wasn’t far behind you and a few more strokes was all it took for him to spill himself inside of you. Burying himself deep against your cervix as he grip your hip hard enough to bruise. He rolled you both over and pulled you tight against his chest. His hand massaging the tender flesh on your wrists, slowly bringing the muscles back to life. Rubbing the stiffness out of your shoulders. You melted further into him.

“I am sorry. For all that I said.” You whispered against his chest.

“No you aren’t.” He joked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And I love you for it.”

“I love you too.” You said as you connected your lips to his and relished in the afterglow.

Tagging the mutuals: @sarawritestories @milswrites @ninthcircleofprythian @daycourtofficial @nocasdatsgay

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #acosf #acomaf #azriel x reader #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel smut #smut #acotar smut #acotar x reader

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utterlyotterlyx · 1 day

Text

The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Twelve

Summary - The High Lord's meeting takes place which provides the perfect opportunity to set you free.

Warnings - Get ready besties! Angst, trauma, ptsd, fluff, mentions of death, depression, weight loss, mentions of scarring

Word Count - 8.5k

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Time had ticked by tantalizingly slow, hours felt like days, and days felt like weeks. The rawness of your throat made every cough and splutter tease the death that was lurking around your small form, the same body that was shaking from the chill in the air and bones protruding from your skin from the lack of nourishment you had been given.

It was as though you had been forgotten.

The taunts had stopped, the other prisoners noticing how dire the situation had become, and they instead sought to comfort the imprisoned princess holding onto life by a single tensed golden thread. It had become clear that you weren't much different from them, plagued by the need to create a better life no matter the consequence. No matter the cost.

Visits from your fractured family had dwindled, only Feyre could enter the hell you found yourself in unnoticed, though, she carried the intriguing scent of cedar on her clothes but she didn't speak of him, she knew that above all, the betrayal of Azriel had cut you the deepest. It was Feyre who reminded you of the light beyond the confined walls, she carried messages from Cassian and Mor, and Amren, she carried whatever hope she could to you.

They were all desperate to convince you to just hold on for a little longer. Just another day.

Though, what you couldn't understand was how the queen dwelling deep inside of you could leave so abruptly. Perhaps it was the thick onyx stone embedded into the walls, maybe it made her cower back into her cage leaving the weakest part of you in the dim faelight.

Shuddering, you wrapped your arms around yourself, curling into a ball atop the stone altar that had been calling to you for Mother knows how long, so long that you had succumb to it and used it as a place to rest your dreary head. The matted hair attached to your scalp swept across the stone, gathering the last remnants of blood and dirt from the surface, the rest had seeped into your bones long ago.

The air had shifted somewhat, like the shifting sands of a land far away, telling you that beyond the walls that worked tirelessly to contain you, something was happening.

Thunder rumbled in the grey skies, you could hear the lightening barrel into the tower where your cell lay, cracking rock in its wake, as though nature itself was growing restless. There were little tears left to cry even when the shackles binding your limbs broke through your once glowing skin, it didn't hurt anymore, nothing did.

You were empty.

Is this what death felt like? To feel so stiff and empty, numb to the point where the screams within the prison no longer made your toes curl or heart clench?

If it were to be your end, then you would accept it. A part of you welcomed the idea, to be free of it all, to go to a place where you could find peace.

Eris.

It was the only name that could make you ache.

You had made peace with the fact that you may never see them again, that you’d never get to feel the touch of Eris' lips on yours, or Lucien's arms wrapped around you, Elain's kind words or Nesta's friendship. They would be better off without the danger your existence brought to their lives, not even from Rhys, but from whatever evil dwelt within you.

Running your tongue over your bottom lip, you hissed slightly, the skin broken and sore from the gnawing of your teeth; the same sensation grappled at your fingertips, your nailbeds raised and angry and nails split and jagged. When you ran your fingers down the front of your body, all that met your touch was the boned outline of your ribs that you could count one by one, and the sharpness of your collarbone and shoulders.

If Eris saw you, he would burn the world to ash. You were sure of it.

Had he met with Helion and Tamlin? Had he forged a path to free you? Had Rhys ended him before he could rise?

"Your thoughts are too loud, Princess," the taut voice of your neighbour called through the darkness, the thunder acting as the sonnet to his ire as it clapped somewhere overhead, rumbling the skies and shaking the ground beneath the altar where your body lay.

Jovian was one of the very few prisoners who hadn't taunted you after your rather unfortunate arrival within their home. What he did to land himself in such a place you never wished to know, but he had become an important crutch in your dwindling existence. The smallest surviving part of your imagination wanted you to believe that he was a handsome male, such notions derived from his voice being as warm as summer rain and as rich as chocolate.

Being neighbourly wasn't something you'd find within your personal hell, but you had learned that life had been made to surprise you in the most strangest of manners.

A strained hum sounded against your wilting lips, plastered downward as though they didn't know joy anymore, "Sorry," your voice broke with the rawness of your throat, the dryness that settled so deep within your oesophagus that you were convinced it would never leave even if you did by some miracle become free.

Jovian was daemati, just like Rhys, although, he couldn't control it very well at all, he was never trained with the gift after being locked away at such a young age. Thoughts seemed to scream at him, like a carriage racketing through a tunnel, loud and grating. He had been nice enough to you though, using gentle words and a soft voice to make you feel seen and heard, to make you feel like you were still important to someone despite being locked away and the key dropped into the Sidra.

A faint shuffle moved through the air, a sign that Jovian was moving closer to the bars of his cell, and he sighed, the warmth of his breath stretching to kiss your ice cold skin, "It's alright," his voice spoke, you could almost picture the male with his back pressed against the bars, his fingers reaching outward to where they could graze against yours if you would only move to accept it.

Thunder screamed beyond the walls, lightening and rain battering against the foundations, wearing away the stone bit by bit so that it may be able to reach you. "Can you feel it? The world tilting?"

Jovian hummed low, "I can. We all can."

It wasn’t a lie. The residents of the Prison had become restless, their maniacal laughter howling into the night, and part of you had wished to join them.

Using whatever little strength you had left, you pushed yourself upward and swung your legs over the side of the altar, the flashes of the same moment in another time splintering their way into your consciousness; your bare and bruised feet padded against the damp floor, a slight limp possessed your step from the countless times your ankle had twisted from not being able to hold your own weight.

Matching Jovian, you pressed your back against the onyx bars of your cell, crawling your fingers through them to brush lightly against the tips of his own, "What does your name mean?"

It was something you had thought of since the moment he told you it, it was such a unique name, much different from the names you knew. Jovian's index finger curled around your own, "Father of the sky. My mother enjoyed astrology and the study of planets, she said that it fit me perfectly." A beat of silence passed, "What does yours mean?"

Furrowing your brow, you couldn't seem to remember it, "I- I don't know."

A contemplative sound came from his lips, "I think it means warrior, it takes great strength to survive and hang onto your light in the face of great darkness."

A humourless laugh passed through you, "I'm no warrior."

"You're still here, aren't you? You could have given up long ago, but you didn't. What keeps you here?" Here as in Prythian, here as in the world, here as within life.

Flashes of laughter and love caressed against your soul, of warm Autumn evenings with your legs propped up on a lap and a furry head resting on your thighs, "Someone that I love, very much."

Reuniting with Eris was something you had forbidden yourself to dream of, it was futile given your condition, and maybe he would take one look at your ruined form and decide that he was better off. Eris would never do such a thing, but it helped you to believe that there was better things in the world awaiting him. Though, when those dreams did grace you, you had always awoken feeling full with your soul glowing gold. Multiple scenarios of it had poured through you, running through the forest at the edge of the estate into his open arms, on the beaches of the Day Court in the instance that Helion would break through the rock and pluck you from your cell, in Velaris when you would overthrow Rhys and bring peace to the Night Court.

Every scenario was beautiful and perfect, but they were just dreams, and dreams didn't tend to come true for you.

Jovian's finger traced the hem of the cuff secured against your wrist, cringing at the marred flesh thriving beneath it, "To love is a beautiful thing," his was was toned with longing, of a desire he would never get to experience for he too was subject to the knowledge that he would never leave.

"Yes," you cleared your throat, "It is."

"Whoever owns your heart is the luckiest male in the universe, y/n. Fighting is worth it when you have someone waiting for you."

Laying your cheek against the bars and staring onward like the stones may part and reveal you to one another, you asked, "Do you have someone waiting for you?"

Jovian pondered the question, sadness settling into his chest as he thought of how long he had been locked away, at how he had slowly aged over the time where everyone he once held dear had perished, "I may have once, not anymore though."

"If I ever get out of this place, I'll come back for you. I swear it."

For awhile after your voices died against the roaring skies, you sat with your backs pressed against your respective bars, fingers entwined, and for just a moment, you both didn't feel alone.

The Day Court was just as stunning as Eris had remembered it to be, tall marble pillars and ethereal artworks encapsulated the ceilings, and he wondered how he hadn't spent longer admiring it all the last time he had been within Day. Then he remembered that the last time he had been in the Day Court was when you had asked him to take you away, you had stolen his attention that night, and you had each day after.

All of the High Lords of Prythian had answered the call, even Rhys, and the day had come where the world would get to know what he had done to you.

Tension had been rife within the family you had brought together, Nesta was on edge about seeing Cassian and Feyre, Elain was on edge about seeing Azriel, Lucien was ripping at the seams at the thought of being around Rhys, and Eris was on edge about everything. One wrong move and Rhys could easily send the order to have your existence wiped from the world.

It was silly to assume that Rhys would bring you despite the demand for it, though Eris couldn't help but hope to see your glossy hair sauntering through the halls or the hem of your dress sweeping against the stone as you turned a corner.

The Day Court had always been your favourite place, you had often spoke of how you adored the sun seeping into your pores, how you'd never felt more complete and peaceful when walking along the sandbank with the water rushing up to greet you. Eris pictured you leaning against every wall he passed, a soft smile on your lips and skin glowing with love and health, hair bundled over your shoulders that he could twirl a finger in if he so wished, eyes burning so brightly that it made his stomach flip.

Helion had studied the texts as he had promised to do, and he was confident in his approach to rid the demon queen from your body thanks to the talents nestled within his court. Eris had been warned that it would be painful for you to endure and him to watch, but that it would put an end to the evil entwined within you.

The chamber chosen for the meeting was regal in its own right, high ceilings with coving made of solid gold, larger than life chairs arranged in a perfect circle around a pond of seawater that scattered its waves across the ceiling, large open arched windows with thin drapes that danced in the ocean breeze.

Kissing the horizon, the low sun signalled that it was time.

Eris sat across from the chairs assigned to the Night Court, Nesta to his left and Lucien to his right, both of whose orbs were trained on the empty seats awaiting the presence of the High Lord and Lady of night, if the latter would even show her face that is. Helion sat to the right hand curve of the sphere before the largest of the windows with the sun dipping just below the arch of his seat, fingers tapping against the table becoming annoyed with the lateness; Tamlin sat to the left curve, eyes darting to the High Lords and nose occasionally sniffing to catch a speckle of your scent.

All the other High Lords knew was that a crime had been committed, and that such a crime required a hearing of sorts, an attempt of resolution before the land was consumed by war on four fronts. Day. Night. Spring. Autumn.

It was clear that Rhys had spouted lies to the Winter Court, such was clear by the stone-faced glare being sent Eris' way by Kallias, and Eris could only imagine what vile words had been spoken between the two of them. Kallias had no doubt been told that Eris was a kidnapper, a manipulator and liar that had weaved his way into the mind of his dearest sister and turned her against her home and family.

The doors to the chamber opened once more, to announce the presence of the final bodies they were awaiting. Rhys appeared as stoic as ever, dressed in his finest onyx tunic, his crown dipping low on his brow and violet eyes swimming with poised anger; beside him was Feyre, eyes weary and stressed, dressed in her usual blue-grey ensemble. Then the Inner Circle appeared, all varying in their levels of ire and discomfort, Cassian whispered Nesta's name as soon as he saw her and she froze in response, noting how his wings had drooped slightly and skin tinged with illness. Mor hadn't looked much better, the shine to her hair had disappeared, her nail polish was chipped and her dress seemed a bit loose on her frame.

Counting them all one by one, it soon became glaringly obvious that a certain Shadowsinger had refrained from attending the meeting.

Rhys all but glided to his seat, giving Feyre a stern look as they both sat, their Inner Circle following suit to either side of them and bringing their night-kissed dread to a once warm room.

From their pallid complexions Nesta knew what they had seen, she knew that they too now knew the truth, and it gave her some form of hope to know that maybe you had some people looking out for you. Nesta's eyes connected with those of her mate, and she felt the air rush from her lungs at the pleading she found within them and the gentle tugging on the bond that she opened willingly, feeling his guilt and reassurance soaring across it.

"I appreciate you all for coming on such short notice," Helion spoke after a beat, allowing the tension to fester upon Rhys' entrance, his power causing the room to swelter.

It was taking all of his control to not lunge across the serene pool that separated them, Eris would give anything to be able to wipe that smug grin off of his face. The day would come when he could do such a thing, but that day wouldn't be the one where your life and sanity loomed over his pretty red head.

From the way Helion's eyes drifted to Rhys, with fire coursing through the speckles of his irises, did the other High Lords realise what had called them to the Day Court Palace, or rather, who.

"Rhysand," Helion drawled his name, a smirk tugging on his lips, "You are here to answer to a court of your peers, to the High Lords who wish to rule this world harmoniously, for the crimes you have committed against your own court, and your own flesh and blood." Helion moved his gaze to Kallias, then to Thesan and Tarquin, then to Tamlin who shuffled in his seat, and then to Eris who he gave a short, curt nod.

"For those of you who don't know of Rhys' treachery, allow me to fill you in," Helion waved his hand and sank back into the comfort of his seat, "For the last fleeting eon, Rhys has held his own sister captive within his court for fearing that her power could overthrow him. Upon realising the betrayal of her own brother, y/n approached Eris and asked him to free her of the confinements of the prison that she called home and found herself thriving within the Autumn Court."

Not expecting the words but also not wanting to go head-to-head with Helion, all Rhys could do was sit and listen, and Eris caught the poorly hidden smirk itching its way onto Feyre's mouth.

"Rhys threatened her, manipulated her into believing that she belonged to the Night Court and that if she didn't return then he would kill the family she had made with Eris," Helion's stare bore into Rhys, his orbs glowering with intensity and anguish over what he had done to his friend, "Rhys placed collars of onyx stone on her to make her void of power, and has psychologically tortured her to the point where she no longer resembles the female she used to be, and," Helion turned his head slightly to Eris in silent permission, not once tearing his eyes from the seething High Lord in his eyeline. Eris nodded once and felt the fate of the world move at it, "Rhys removed the memories of Eris and y/n from one another. They are Carranam, and they were very much in love. It threatened his power and position, so he stole their memories and locked her away so that she would never learn of what he did, and instead spread vile lies and vicious rumours so that no one would ever think to look for her or wonder about her."

Feyre soundlessly uttered the word, Carranam, her lips moving perfectly with the roll of her tongue, and her eyes widened. Feyre turned to her husband and mate with horror laced within her orbs but said nothing, instead her gaze flickered to Cassian, and then to Mor, before settling on Amren whose fists were clenched and nostrils flared.

"Where is she?" Tamlin asked, voice low and dangerous, "You were ordered to bring her."

Rhys ticked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, seemingly unphased by the stare of betrayal from his mate and the mother of his child, "My sister is elsewhere. To move her for a meeting so futile would cause her a great deal of pain."

"Where is she?" Eris hissed, his fingers creating scratches in the arms of his chair. Rhys was too smug, the lazy grin on his lips made Eris' blood boil so much so that ash pooled beneath his palms.

Finally, Rhys looked to Eris, he cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips, "The location of my sister is none of your concern," Rhys relaxed into his chair, unphased and unbothered, which only irked Eris more, "As Night Court tradition stipulates, an unmated female is the property of her family until she finds her mate or a suitable arrangement is made. My sister is unmated, and therefore, she's mine."

"That thought would hold if it were true," Nesta smirked, peering at Rhys through her lashes, her fingers drifting over the hilt of Ataraxia.

His eyes narrowed, and more a moment, Nesta could have sworn that she had saw a flash of fear within them, "It is true."

Eris hummed, "No, it's not actually," he allowed his glamour to fall, and the scent of your bond flooded the room, pine and spiced orange mixed with jasmine and salted air, "Y/N is my mate, she is my Carranam," Eris rose to his feet, "She is to be my wife, my High Lady, and the mother of my children. But before all of that, she is going to be free."

No one had been expecting so much information when they had arrived within the Day Court that afternoon, the collective mind of Prythian was reeling.

"Tell me where my mate is, Rhysand. We won't ask again," the red of his waistcoat strained against his chest and he inhaled deeply, partly relishing in the surprise in Rhys' eyes as he attempted to hold onto some reason why he could continue entrapping you.

Then, a sweet voice spoke, one raw from holding back tears of fury, "She's in the prison. Rotting away on his orders," Rhys' widened gaze moved to the owner of the voice, finding Feyre unwilling to look at him after confessing his darkest act.

A low growl emitted from Eris and he felt Nesta rise to her feet beside him, "We've been helping her the best we can, but she doesn't have much longer left," Cassian added, flinching when Rhys' head snapped to face him, but his eyes didn't move from Nesta, and she felt his sincerity flow down the bond and settle within her heart.

Cassian had become your ally, he was on your side trying to help you, but there was little he could do against Rhys' power, no matter how determined he was.

Realising that his own Inner Circle, his own family, had betrayed him, Rhys' eyes darkened and the ground began to rumble beneath their feet. Then it stopped. Rhys shivered. Rolling his neck at the sensation peeling down his spine, Rhys snarled, and peered back to the door as though he was expecting someone to enter. His ears twitched and his eyes narrowed, then he froze, it dawning on him what exactly he was feeling.

"What have you done?" Rhys turned his head to Feyre sadistically slow with a voice dangerously calm, but Feyre didn't back down, no, she rose to her feet and stared down at her mate with every ounce of disdain in her body.

"We," Feyre motioned between herself, Cassian, Mor, and Amren, "Have done what is right."

It dawned then on your found family that all this time, when they had believed that they were all against you, it was actually the opposite. They had been working tirelessly to find a way out for you, had been orchestrating their own movements to get to that moment, to get Rhys far away from the Night Court for long enough to give you a fighting chance.

And on knowing what was happening, Rhys blew through the wards around the Palace like it was nothing, shattering the shields into oblivion with his fury, and winnowed from sight.

The stiffness in your legs warned you what was coming.

There was no energy or fight left within you to do anything about it as you retreated to the far corner of your cell and draped the thin blanket over your tattered dress.

Wind slammed against the side of the tower, roaring into the night, desperately attempting to break through the stone as strong as iron. The skies cried with it, unable to idly stand by and watch you succumb to the thing that terrified you.

Death.

It had always been a concept you had been scared of, you loved life too much, and all of the possibilities that could have been yours if you were brave enough to just take the chances when they were in front of you.

One more dream, you could allow yourself that.

Your eyes drifted closed and you drowned out the words of Jovian who felt so close yet so far away, focusing solely on the male who owned your heart in every single way that mattered, on the male who had never been afraid of you.

In that moment, you imagined laying in your bed at Fir Manor, his ear pressed to your swelled stomach and lips stretched into a wonderous smile as he tried his hardest to listen to the heartbeat of the babe growing inside of you. His babe. You imagined running your fingers through his hair, wondering if your children would be blessed with hair the shade of glowing embers or hair as dark as the night. Eris would press his lips against your skin, whispering sweet promises to your growing babe that he would be nothing like his father, that he would protect your little family with every fibre of his being.

It was a sweet dream, a glimpse into the future, so sweet and perfect and impossible that you felt a single tear slip down your ashen cheeks.

One day you'd see him again. One day you'd be reunited in the stars and the heavens would sing their adoration. And you'd wait, and you'd watch him go through life, and you'd guide him to the next day, and protect him with your light until he would one day join you.

It would be a beautiful day.

Though, apparently someone was eager to pause that day from occurring as the bars of your cell splintered, the door itself twisting from the hinges with a sickening groan and and an array of cool kisses pecking at your calves.

Hazel eyes hovered before your own, marred fingers grazed your hallowed cheeks, "You don't get to die on me, Princess," he looked about the room, tucking the thin blanket around your body to keep you as warm as he possibly could, "It's time to go home."

A pained cry sounded from your lips and Azriel internally cringed at it, knowing that even cradling you in his arms was bringing you untold amounts of pain, "I know it hurts. I'm sorry, y/n. We don't have much time, I need to get you out of here."

Azriel rose to his feet and curled his wings around you, trying to will some warmth into your trembling form as he stepped into the hallway and kept walking without looking back, paying no mind to the teary eyes of Jovian who was pressed against the bars to his own cell, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes open and full of fight, fingers outstretched and trying to brush against your light for one last time.

As soon as he exited the Prison, Azriel halted, feeling your fingers curl around the skin of his armour. Looking down, he noted the tears in your eyes as you stared up at the calming skies, the clouds splitting to reveal the brightest stars you had ever seen glimmering overhead, "I didn't think I'd ever see them again," your raw voice spoke, and if he looked hard enough, he swore he could see your heart pulsing in your chest.

"You're going to be seeing a lot more beautiful things than this sky," Azriel promised you, holding you a little tighter in his arms, knowing that it was probably going to be the last time he ever could. "I'm going to have to winnow us, okay? It's the only way to create enough distance between us and Rhys."

Nestling further into his arms, you nodded stiffly against his chest, your cheekbone rubbing against his leathers, so sharp that it threatened to split the intricate fabric. Curling his wings tighter around you, Azriel inhaled deeply, and then disappeared from sight, the only sign of his presence being the tint of cedar laced into the air.

Within a few minutes, the winnowing had halted, and your once screwed closed eyes softened as the scent of fresh foliage blossomed within your gut, gently caressing you and whispering to you that you were safe, that home was so close, mere metres away.

Azriel gently placed you on the ground, the grass soft beneath your feet, but he kept his hands on your waist to steady you, to catch you if your knees gave out.

The air felt lighter, teeming with life and the chirps of small creatures, glancing about, you spotted a manor in the distance, shrouded with fresh flowers and vine. "Are we in Spring?"

The Shadowsinger hummed softly in agreement, "Autumn is just over there," he motioned to where a shield of glamour rippled, a sign of the wards of Autumn ready to part and welcome you back, "Can you make it?"

"Yes," you answered instantly, energy flowing to your limbs and loosening the muscles within them. You peered up at Azriel, "Rhys-"

"Had to believe that I was on his side, had to trust me enough to loosen the leash," his brutally marred finger brushed a stray hair behind your ear, "I promised to never hurt you, I intend to keep that promise. I'm sorry for everything that I've done, for letting you believe that I betrayed you. I'm sorry. Rhys had to believe that he was winning, but I should have never allowed it to go this far. I should have protected you, got you out at the first chance I had."

Azriel stumbled back a step as your body collided with his own, winding your arms around his neck and doing your best to contain your wobbling bottom lip, "I forgive you," at the sound of your broken whisper Azriel curled his arms around your frame, allowing his shadows to pepper their love over your shoulders and spine.

It was a tender moment, one full of the unspoken love that had once flowed between you, a love that was still the centre of his universe but that had been replaced in yours. Azriel pulled back, his fingers lingering over the bargain tattoo that wrapped around your bicep, and smiled sadly, "You have to go. Rhys would have been alerted by now, he'll be looking for us."

"He'll kill you."

"Maybe," Azriel shrugged, "But if my death means that you make it out of this alive then it's worth it," the sky rumbled and you felt Rhys' power draw closer, "Go. I'll hold him off. Cross the boarder, go home," Azriel pressed his lips to your forehead and closed his eyes, drinking in everything he could about you before he stepped back and nudged you toward the rippling wards that were already parting for you, almost reaching out to envelope you in their protection.

You couldn't waste a moment, so you turned toward the boarder and willed yourself to not look back as that power rumbling in the skies slammed into the ground behind you. Ignoring the screaming ache in your limbs, you propelled yourself forward, feeling the wind rip through your hair and your skirt glide against your thighs.

A roar sounded behind you, a clash of swords, sinful words and the sickening crunch of bones as bodies smashed into the ground. The wards of Autumn reached for you, wrapping behind your body and urging you forward, and you leapt over the boarder, feeling Autumn welcome you back like a lost lover and solidify the shields around the court.

You spared a glance backward, witnessing Rhys looming over Azriel who was grounded and spitting blood, Truthteller curled in his grip and ready to dispose of the Shadowsinger. A scream ripped through your throat, loud and shrill enough to pull Rhys' attention from Azriel for a singular moment; his gaze shot up to find you, knowing that cry from anywhere, and he rose, going to take another step just as red siphons entered your vision and propelled Rhys through the air.

Cassian moved to Azriel, steadying his brother and muttering something to him, and then you saw Mor, and then Amren, and finally Feyre winnowing onto the field of Spring, all dressed in their leathers and the latter of which turned her head to you and as clear as day, you saw her lips telling you to go.

Stumbling backward, you turned again, moving through the forest and paying little mind to the blood seeping from the bottoms of your feet. A gentle galloping drew near, growing louder with each passing second until his black coat shone in the light and his large eyes found you, approaching you with urgency and softly whimpering as his head nuzzled into your shoulder.

"Hello Axos," your fingers raked through his mane and he lowered himself to the ground, bending at the knee and waiting for you to clamber onto his back, you hitched the hem of your tattered dress around your thighs and swung your leg over his back, leaning your chest against it as he rose from the ground and cantered onward.

Arched branches brushed against your back as though in greeting, small animals peaked up from their stones and hearths to watch you pass by, and the darkening sky sparkled as the last touch of sun vanished from sight. Weakness settled into your bones, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving you exhausted and wincing at every movement Axos made as he carried you through the forest.

The stallion came to a slow stop, craning his neck to tell you that you were safe. Sitting upright, a sob escaped you as you laid eyes on Fir Manor, and you rubbed your eyes to make sure that it was real and not some sort of wicked dream. Sliding from Axos' back, cool cobbled stone greeted you, the warm Autumn wind flowed through your hair and filled you with energy.

You ran down the path, dress billowing behind you, and flew through the oaken door. Part of you had expected to see them all in the seating area, a fire roaring, Nesta curled up reading one of her smutty books, Elain and Lucien cuddling in the corner and comparing the sizes of their hands, and Eris sat reading reports with Willow resting in his lap.

But the manor was cold and dark, the usual fire that roared in the hearth was nothing but ash, the only light that existed was birthed from the moonlight pouring between the curtains. Tugging at the skin around your fingernails, you moved through the house, calling out for Eris and Nesta whilst following the soft tug deep within your soul; you made your way up the stairs and winced at every step, the twisted muscles in your leg causing you more pain than you'd like to admit. You padded down the halls, peeking into each room and feeling warmth pool in your heart, the neatly made beds and the cascade of trinkets that told you which room belonged to each member of your found family causing a faint smile to pull at your lips.

Continuing your search, you used the walls as a crutch, having to pause every few metres to take a deep breath to control the contorting pain in your leg and shoulders. The grating of your chains filled the silence, that, and the sound of your breathless straining as you meandered through the space. You stumbled forward, reaching for a familiar set of doors that upon looking to them caused memories to swirl in the forefront of your mind, memories of opening that same door on a light morning, a certain shirt drowning your figure and whiskey amber orbs trailing up your thighs. Hesitantly, you reach for the handle, taking it between your fingers and pushing the door open to find the same darkness that lingered across the estate, but also a pair of furry ears that had perked up the moment your head curled around the door.

Your shoulders fell lax and you let out a sigh, "Hello Willow," the pup cried and unfurled herself from the ball atop the cream comforter, tail wagging and softly slapping against the sheets, relieved whimpers flowing from her lungs. The hound gingerly nuzzled her snout into your open palm, resting her chin atop it and giving small licks to your wrists, "Have you been looking after him for me, hm?" As if she understood you, she cried once more and saddled up to the edge of the bed, leaning her body into yours and shivering as your hands rubbed small circles into her fur.

It hadn't changed, the room, all that was different was the aroma that clung to the air, of spiced oranges and pine, a tell-tale sign that Eris had tortured himself just to be able the breathe your scent to sleep. His clothes were strewn about the room, lazily draped across the back of the armchair and his riding coat hung on the corner of the mirror where your dress had once swayed. Open books were played over the coffee table, and upon further inspection, you recognised them to be the books that you had read once upon a time when you had been wedged beside him and dousing in his fire.

The windows were wide and welcoming, and you allowed yourself a moment of serenity. You approached the glass panes, fingers running down the lapels of Eris' riding coat before you wrapped your arms around yourself as your eyes scanned the estate, from the quaint ponds to the right to the small garden Elain had erected to the left, and sighed.

As if it were a dream, you heard voices darting about by the treeline, and your weak vision pinpointed the location exactly just as a speckle of red stepped onto the cobbled path. His eyes were frantic and wild, and he inhaled deeply, the scent of you threatening to cripple him to his knees.

Within moments his eyes were darting through the windows, working their way upward until he froze. Eris' eyes faltered, blinking furiously, and he took a single step forward, and that action was enough to make you turn on the balls of your feet and hurtle through the manor, ignoring the screaming in your body as you flew down the stairs and through the halls and seating area until you were flinging the door open and stepping into the moonlight.

Eris stood frozen at the end of the cobbled path, staring straight ahead at you, loosening a breath and eyes watering as you wobbled down the steps, "Eris? Are you listening? She wasn't there, she has to be in the forest somewhere," Nesta appeared at his side, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him lightly, trying to pour some sense into him to get him to turn around. Frustration built within her gut as he continued to stand there, cemented to the ground and staring ahead with features teeming with disbelief, "Eris, what are you-"

Nesta followed his line of sight, her words catching in her throat as her eyes landed on you; Nesta's hand dropped from his arm and she turned slightly, to Lucien and Elain who had also just stepped forward from the treeline.

It was then that Eris realised that it wasn't a dream, that Rhys hadn't somehow infiltrated his mind and filled it with torturous hope. The air was brimming with jasmine and sea salt, though it was laced with pain, of despair so heavy that he was wondering how you were still standing.

The cobbled stones shifted beneath his feet, each step absentmindedly quickening until he was running up the path. The closer he got, the clearer he could see the bags under your eyes that were illuminated by the pale moonlight, the thin arms and tattered skirt, the knotted hair and pallid skin, and the bands of onyx stone wound around your neck and ankles as well as the shackles tying your limbs together.

Before he had even reached you, your face contorted, arms stretching out to meet him as he collided with you, his arms wound around your broken and trembling body, lifting you into the air and burying his nose into the curve of your shoulder.

A sob ripped through you and your body shook, the weight of all that had happened crashing down on you causing a sorrowful scream to split past your lips. Eris sank to the ground with you, his arms not once moving from your body, they ran from your sides to your shoulders, and one hand curled around your head, tugging you into his chest, and Eris rested his chin atop of it, pressed his lips into your hair.

It was meant to be a beautiful moment, but the reality of it was far from beautiful. All you felt was pain, from the shackles digging into your skin to the onyx collar drinking your light, none of your thoughts were making any sense, and all you wanted was to have them off.

"Take them off," your broken voice pleaded, tears falling from your chin and sizzling against the searing skin that was peeling and marred, "Please. Please take them off."

"It's alright," Eris kept on repeating, his tone straining with each time it fell from his lips as you continued to plead, your gut wrenching sobs infecting his bones. Eris took one look into your eyes, and tears that streaked down your cheeks, and curled his fingers around the cuffs, willing them into molten pools of metal atop the cobbles and running his thumbs along the rings around your skin left in their wake.

Eris watched your eyes dart about, as though you were trying to figure out if it was all a hallucination or some cruel nightmare, like you'd blink and you'd be chained back inside the Prison. Eris cupped your face in his hands, his fingers cringing under the roughness of it, and will you to look at him, "You're safe. You're home and you're safe. We all are."

"I'm home?" The voice that asked him was so quiet, so full of doubt and disbelief that it made his features crumble, his bottom lip wobbling.

"You're home, my sweet fawn."

Stones skidded to your side, and gentle fingers rested against your elbow. Nesta smiled sadly at you, equally as horrified as relieved; she shuffled closer, the black velvet of her skirt cushioning her knees, and her fingers grazed over your protruding cheekbones, and you could tell that she was trying not to cringe at the touch, that she was trying not to hurt you.

"Nes," you travelled from Eris' embrace into her arms, resting your head against her sternum and allowing your eyes to drift closed.

Nesta nuzzled her cheek atop your head and locked her arms around you, rubbing soft circles into your spine, "Let's get you inside. How does a bath sound?"

The sound of a lavender soak kissing your muscles and sores made you moan, you nodded gently against her chest and groaned as she moved, securing her hands under your shoulders and lifting you to your feet. Nesta waited there for a moment, head low and eyes pleading you to tell her to stop if it was too much, after a few moments you nodded and leaned into her warmth and strength to lead you back inside.

Eris watched Nesta handle you with care, he too had rose to his feet and trailed behind your form, counting each knot of your spine that peaked out from the ripped dress on your body; but he stopped at the steps, waiting until you had disappeared into the house before turning to Lucien and Elain.

"Elain, would you-" Eris' voice trailed off, his eyes drifting to the ajar door to the manor before moving back to her. Elain, not needing him to finish, squeezed his forearm and lifted the hem of her dress to follow after you, leaving Lucien and Eris in the moonlight.

The two brothers shared a look, one of concern. Helion was right, Rhys had diminished you to an entirely different being, starkly different to the female who had left the Autumn Court late in the night.

"All that matters is that she's back, and that Rhys is far away suffering the same torture he imposed onto her," Lucien was trying to be positive despite the doubt in his mind that you would never be the same, "She'll need time to adjust."

Eris turned to his brother, to the one who had brought some semblance of light to his days without you, "She can have whatever she needs," he told Lucien sternly, doing his best to keep himself from losing his mind and tearing the Night Court to shreds, from decimating the Prison that would haunt your life for eternity.

A faint smile worked its way onto Lucien's lips, and he rested a firm hand on Eris' shoulder, "She's home, Eris."

Humming, Eris exhaled, "Yeah, she is."

The two Vanserra's entered the manor, sealing it shut and working quickly to warm the room, lighting the fire and preparing an array of teas and warming delicacies for you to graze on if you could stomach it. Eris fluffed the pillows and gathered your favourite blankets that he had stuffed away into a cupboard, and he had propped a stack of books on the tabletop, each one whimpering for your touch.

Elsewhere in the manor, you sat in silence, curled with your knees to your chest in the deep set tub of your, or Eris', bedroom. A thick shirt covered your figure, you didn't want anyone to see the body beneath it, but the water and soaps still worked tirelessly to wash away the pain etched onto your skin. Nesta was perched behind you, gingerly conditioning your hair and brushing the concoction through, untangling every knot with her nimble fingers whilst Elain applied healing creams to the brutalised flesh left behind from the shackles that had limited your every movement and thought.

Once they were done and your skin was clear of dirt, ash, and blood, the two Archeron sisters lifted you from the tub and settled you on the edge, drying you off and wrapping bandages around the bridges of your feet, and making sure the most comfortable of Nesta's loungewear drowned your frame.

The soft fabric felt like a luxury as it coiled around you, it glided against your skin and the painless friction made you shudder, like you had just then realised that nothing could hurt you ever again as long as you were in Autumn surrounded by those who adored you.

Nesta fitted the robe around your body, making sure that it fell down your legs and was long enough for you to tuck your feet into once you were sat down.

Before she left, Elain pressed her lips to your cheek, smiling softly against your skin at the colour that had returned there. It was wonderous what a bath could do to a person. Blissfully promising to see you in a few minutes, she slipped from the room and didn't linger.

Moving your gaze from the door to Nesta who was rising from the ground after applying the last of the healing cream to your ankles, you spoke, "He's my mate. Isn't he?"

Nesta shot upright, the small jar of cream tumbling to the ground, "You know?"

"I felt it," your fingers drifted over the spot in your chest that you had forced yourself to ignore for so long, now knowing what it was, "The moment he started running," your brow furrowed and Nesta took a step closer, noticing the wandering thoughtful glint in your darkened eyes, "I think- I think I always knew. When I was there, I felt this tugging, and I tried my best to ignore it but it didn't want to leave," your gaze shifted to her, "It was him, wasn't it?"

Nesta thinned her lips to stop them from quaking and nodded, "Yes. It was," you trailed small swirls atop the fabric of the robe, a soft smile turning the corners of your lips upward, "I think you should speak to Cassian. I know that you left him, that you chose me, but," you picked at your fingernails but she gently took your hands in hers, halting the faint self mutilation in its tracks, "I just think that you should speak to him."

"Alright," a flash of knowing sparked in her eyes and it had you wondering what she had seen, what she knew, but that was a conversation for a different day. Nesta turned her head slightly, grinning at the conversation and warmth floating up through the manor, "Let's go. They're waiting for us."

The manor felt starkly different to how it had when you had first arrived back within it. Warmth coated the walls that were illuminated by golden faelight, soft chatter drifted up the stairs as well as the aroma of herbs and faintly-sweetened citrus, so delicate that it make your stomach grumble in desire. Though, the food wasn't what you were craving.

The weightless padding of your feet down the stairs drew the attention of the room, and Eris was relieved to see you clean and skin nearly glowing despite the rings of onyx that Nesta had done her best to mask, more for you than anyone else. He didn't know how he was going to rid you of them, but he was determined to find a way, so that you didn't have to live with them constantly reminding you of what you had endured. Gaze flickering across the room, you noted the spread of Autumn delicacies and pastries, and your focus faltered when you spied the lemon cake resting in the centre of the table surrounded by an array of steaming teapots.

A gentle brush against your calves pulled your eyes away, and you peered down to see Willow at your side, nose nudging you onward, and it would have been rude to deny her.

The space beside Eris was waiting for you, his arm was slung over the edge of the deep cushioned seat, blankets positioned in such a way that all you would need to do was grab an edge and pull it over your frame. Without thinking, you moved across the room and crawled along the cushions to nestle yourself under his arm, wrapping your arm over his torso and resting your head against his chest to feel his heartbeat against your skin.

Eris sank a little deeper into the cushions, pulling you closer to him and reaching over to drape a blanket over your legs, a thick red wine piece that you had often bundled yourself up in, and smirking when Willow hopped up onto the surface to prop her chin on your thigh.

Eyes drifting open, you caught Lucien in the chair opposite you, he offered you a small smile, one full of promise that everything was going to be alright.

And for the first time, you felt as though it would be.

You returned the sentiment, matching his smile in silent thanks for keeping Eris going for the duration you had been gone, and Lucien caught it, nodding in response.

The tugging in your chest had returned, a gentle knocking on your soul no doubt spurred on by Eris' nose in your hair, his lips pressing into the crown of your head. Closing your eyes, you opened the door and allowed the bond to complete itself and drown you in all of his love and pain and peace, and you caressed his emotions, balling them up in your essence and soothing them.

At the feeling, Eris gasped, his fingers clenching around your waist and the hand that had been resting on the arm moved to lay on the side of your face.

You know.

Eris' voice sauntered into your mind. The Carranam status of your bond ran deeper than the layers of the world, than the very foundations of life, and the mutter of his voice in your consciousness brought a level of serenity to your soul that you thought you'd never get to feel again.

I know.

To anyone else, the sight before them would be a tender moment between two lost souls, but to you, everything you had ever dreamed of was happening right before your very eyes and within your soul. A mate. A home. A family. A chance of life.

Not needing to say anything else, Eris pressed his lips to your forehead, his fingers caressing your skin and running through your still slightly damp hair, "Would you like some lemon cake? It's your favourite," he told you with a slight tone of teasing, eyes faintly mischievous.

Humming, you glanced to the side to see Elain already sliding a piece of it onto a small plate, the icing shining in the light, and she rose to place it within reach, "Do you even have to ask?"

Author's Note

FINALLY 🥺🥺

Hope this was worth the wait x

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